Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy, but if I did it would be boring because they'd all be better adjusted and actually wear what Seattlites wear- like Northern Face wind breakers/polar fleece .
Title: Punch buggy emo
Rating: T
Summary: Set sometime after " Kung Fu Fighting". Callie and Mark go out for lunch in Capitol Hill and Mark initiates a spin off on an old favorite.
Notes: I know it'll probably never happen and the only reason I think McSteamy was sympathetic to Callie was for us to know how awesome he's supposed to be- I just thought this could be cute, and that two such volitile characters would eventually a good couple make...if Mark was not so blatantly old.
-o-
"Punch buggy led-rimmed glasses!" Callie almost fell sideways off of her stool at Toshi's Teriyaki, bracing her hands on the counter that faced the window over looking a busy street on Capitol hill. Her Chicken and Gyoza combo almost compromised. Carefully spitting out the masticated bit of chicken breast glazed in a mix of Shoyu and Mirin, into a white paper napkin, Callie turned her big eyes on Mark.
" What the hell was that about?" she demanded. Mark looked like he always did- defending himself without any defensiveness because in his heart of hearts- was right all the time and every time, so his reply was more a drawn out declaration of his omnipotence - rather than a sheepish explanation.
" What? Seeing these boys waste their lives buying jeans for eight year old girls, and wearing Buddy Holly glasses doesn't evoke a physical reaction from you? Think about it," he said. Callie almost flinched from the casual bark of an order, her right eyebrow shot up as she began to gesture forcefully with her last gyoza via disposable chopsticks- but of course Mark had not actually wanted her to think about , he had wanted a pause in between his next paragraph. Callie put the Gyoza in her mouth as she listened with little patience.
" These boys- adults who should be acting like men- spend their time intellectualizing and rating themselves on what kind of striped hoodie or crappy Enka-esque music they listen to and get caught up in this new culture of validating their worth by whatever appeals to their feelings, and they get so wrapped up in themselves that whatever feels good becomes good and they waste their life and the lives of people around them buddying up with other narcissistic kids who are constantly unhappy because they are so screwed up that they don't know the difference between feeling good for a minute and the satisfaction of doing the right thing. They could be wasting their lives in ways WAY more beneficial to society, or even slightly beneficial in some small and probably equally superficial and meaningless niche, but at least they'd be doing something to help other people!" he finished his rant by throwing his arms up and slumping back against his stool.
Callie watched him wind down, mulling over his attempt at solidarity that had it's own convoluted way of making her feel better, to see that her excruciating process of letting go was not going by unrecognized. She wanted to cry and be back in her office, the old wounds being rehashed, but as she looked at Mark she realized that she was getting help from a professional. She also realized he must not have a lot of opportunities to talk to many other people aside from Derek- and what another ray of sunshine. ' He must have a thing for hanging out with depressed people,' she thought bemusedly.
" Yeah," she said, bobbing her head in a nod and she freed some rice from it's sculpted almond type shape on her big white and blue plate, " even if they didn't apply themselves too much at all- they could always go into plastic surgery," she said with a smile, putting a healthy sized clump of white rice in her mouth.
Mark scoffed at her and Callie's shoulders shook with laughter. He shook his head and started to polish off his side salad, next to his mostly untouched Beef and Chicken Teriyaki combo, fumbling with his chopsticks. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the disenfranchised youth of Capitol Hill strut, slump, and shuffle past.
A young man in low-slung distressed jeans walked past apathetically with a very familiar blue shoulder/messenger bag, a double of the bag George carried, that Callie always hated he also sported little blonde highlights at the ends of his soft gelled spikes. She elbowed Mark and he almost gagged on his Teriyaki beef.
" Punch buggy girl-bag," she announced. He nodded in agreement, and started to go into another aside on how they didn't have Teriyaki in New York but Callie looked pointedly at the lad's hair before turnign to Mark.
"Punch buggy bad frosted hair," she added, looking meaningfully at Mark and elbowing him again. Mark now looked genuinely defensive.
" Hey!" he shouted in protest.
Callie finished her chicken and rice, and enjoyed teasing him whenever his mouth was too full for him to retaliate.