A/N: I can't edit this again, I've revised, added, and deleted so many times, (I even moved on to the next chapter and then came back hoping to get a fresh look) yet that satisfaction that usually precedes posting a chapter still eludes me. It's not awful (at least I don't think), I even like it okay, but I just have that feeling – you know the one where you think you've left something but don't know what it is, well I'm sick of trying to figure out what that is and it's time for an update. It's long (as are my comments), so be forewarned.
Chapter 8: Those Difficult Kinds Of Words
The smell of coffee filled the kitchen, which, Mark observed, was already crowded with various baked goods.
"So what are all these?" Mark asked pointing to the scattered plates and pans.
"Well… I bake."
"You bake?"
"I bake." She decided to omit the 'when I'm upset' part and sidestep what she believed would be an overreaction. "I was going to bring one to the hospital to give to you, you know, as a 'thank you' for dinner. Kind of like you bring dinner and I bring dessert, albeit a little late."
"This isn't the kind of dessert I had in mind."
"Mark!"
"Sorry, I can't help it. Besides, what do you expect?"
"Have some self-control," she teased.
"You have no idea the level of self-control I've been exercising lately."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You know what, never mind."
"Mark…"
Without arguing but also without yielding, he returned to the subject of her baking. "Why make so many if you were only going to give me one?"
"Well, I didn't know what you like. So I just made everything I could with the ingredients I found in the fridge."
"Why can't I have them all?"
"Greedy, much?"
"Not all of everything, but a little bit of each."
She stared blankly at him. "Yeah, that would work. Damn it, that works." He looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "I just wasted so much time trying to pick, you know. I don't know why I didn't think of that," she explained.
"You worry too much," he said as he tried a cupcake.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm eating my dessert."
"It's six in the morning! You can't eat chocolate this early." He shoved a piece of cupcake in her face, which she promptly wiped away.
"Gross."
"You made it."
"Shut up." He just smirked at her.
"So should I just take you home after your shift to avoid another midnight call?"
"No."
"What? That's fine, but don't expect me to…"
"I have the day off," she interrupted. "So you can either come here after work and stay or pick me up."
"Well, alright then." He pulled out a chair and sat down.
Sitting across from each other, Mark reading the newspaper and Izzie chewing a muffin, felt delightfully domestic. But the illusion was short-lived, as sound from above gave evidence of waking people.
Mark peered over the paper at her, waiting for the command he knew was coming. She gave him an apologetic look, but they'd both agreed it would just be easier if he left unseen. Still, Izzie couldn't bring herself to say the words.
"If you don't tell me to, I won't."
"Please don't make this harder than it already is. We need easy, remember?"
"Just say it."
"Mark, don't make me, please. I don't want to."
It was this admission that he'd wanted to hear. Knowing that she wanted him near, that she couldn't tell him to leave, was thrilling. Of course, it also made leaving her side that much harder. "Okay, I'm going," he said as he threw back the rest of his cup of coffee.
"Just like that?"
"Now who's making it difficult?"
"You're right. Just… I'm fine. I'll see you later. Whatever." She gave him a very unconvincing half-smile.
He stood, leaned across the counter and kissed her forehead. "Okay." He walked out of the kitchen and she felt herself waver.
The sound of the front door closing was closely followed by footsteps on the stairs. Meredith, who had watched wordlessly from the top of the stairway as Mark snuck out, entered the kitchen just as Izzie started to sniffle.
"What the hell did he do to you?" At this, Izzie wept openly. Meredith was instantly by her side. "It'll be okay. You'll be okay, Iz. I'll kick his frat boy ass for you."
"No," Izzie choked out between sobs. "I don't want you to kick his ass."
"What? You want to do it yourself? I'm sure Alex and Cristina would double team him if you asked."
"No, I don't want anyone to kick his ass." Izzie dabbed at her tears with her sleeve.
"What do you want?"
"Him."
"What?"
"I can't fucking help myself. I want him! I, Izzie Stevens, want Mark Sloan."
"What did he do to you?" Meredith's voice had fallen to scarcely above a whisper.
Izzie looked up hopelessly, her eyes large and round. "He made me fall in love with him."
"Meredith, look out!" Izzie clutched her seatbelt as Meredith swerved through traffic.
"When I saw him in your bed, I didn't know what to think. I mean, I figured sex."
"You saw us in bed together?"
Meredith continued to talk over her question. "But that hardly tells you anything, you know? So when I saw him leave this morning and found you crying I thought it must have been drunken sex, that he'd taken advantage."
"Watch the road!" Izzie screamed. She was really starting to sweat now.
"And after all our talks…"
"Talks?"
"I thought he must be a new breed of jackass to use you."
"He didn't take advantage."
"Well, clearly. I know that now."
"I mean we didn't sleep together. Well, technically we did sleep together. But we didn't have sex."
Meredith slammed on the breaks.
"Damn it, Meredith!"
"You guys didn't have sex last night?"
"No. Or the night before. Or the night before that."
"Wait, you were with McSteamy that night?!"
Izzie looked a little sheepish. "Yeah," she admitted.
"I stayed up all freakin' night worrying about you."
"Oh, shut up. You have no right, no right whatsoever to complain. You engineered the first night I had to sleep with him. If anyone is yelling at anyone, I should be yelling at you. I still haven't forgiven you for that, you know. You went behind my back…" Meredith parked and jumped out of the car and Izzie followed. "You went behind my back and set me up, just like that stupid car ride. Wait… Meredith what am I doing?"
"We're finding McSteamy."
"No, I know what we're doing. What am I doing?"
"You're telling him how you feel."
"What the hell am I supposed to say?"
"You'll know when you see him."
"Bullshit! I am not walking into that hospital without having, at the very least, a rough outline of what I'm going to tell him."
"We don't have time for you to formulate a plan," Meredith lectured. "We're here."
"I'm not budging!" Meredith rolled her eyes and started pushing Izzie forward.
"You are surprisingly strong for such a tiny person," Izzie laughed.
"And you are surprisingly heavy," Meredith strained.
"Hey!"
"Well, walk!"
Izzie sighed and grudgingly trudged towards the hospital entrance.
"Thank you."
"I still don't know what to say to him."
"You're not proposing. This doesn't have to be perfect."
"Trust me I'm not aiming for perfect just not humiliating."
"How could this be humiliating?"
"There are so many ways this could go wrong, I don't even want to think about it. What if he doesn't feel the same way?"
"I thought he already told you how he felt."
"He did. But he didn't say he loved me."
"He didn't say the word 'love' or he didn't say he loved you?"
"What's the difference?"
"There's a very big difference."
"He didn't use the word love, if that's what you're asking. So obviously he didn't say he loved me, either."
"You know, Iz, you're a smart girl, but you can be a little dense sometimes," Meredith said as she smacked Izzie's forehead.
"Owww! What was that for?"
"Don't be an idiot. There are thousands of ways to tell someone you love them without actually saying those three little words."
"Dr. Grey, I'm a little busy here," Mark said without looking up from the patient he was operating on.
"When will you be done?"
"These things take time."
"Mark…" Mark turned to look at her. "Dr. Sloan," she corrected. But after that she lost focus. "You're such an ass." All eyes turned toward her and, feeling like calling the attending an ass was probably more severe an act of subordination than calling him by his first name, Meredith made a move to leave.
"Meredith," he called after her. "What is it?"
"It's Izzie." Even through his surgical mask, she could see the faint traces of panic. "She's not hurt or anything. She just has to talk to you."
"That's it? You interrupted my surgery to tell me your friend needs to talk to me?" As her features hardened, he realized he'd crossed a line. Meredith marched over to him and whispered harshly in his ear.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you putting on a show? This kind of shit isn't going to fly with her, you know that, right? I mean, seriously? My friend?" Meredith stood for a beat, regarding him carefully. As she turned to walk out the door, she added, "And it's important, what she has to say."
"Damn it." He cursed under his breath.
"Well?" Izzie asked apprehensively as Meredith strode out of the OR.
"We're going home."
"Why?"
"It's a long surgery." Despite not having thought of a single thing she was going to say to him, Izzie looked more disappointed than relieved. "You'll see him tonight."
"Yeah," Izzie said unhappily. But tonight isn't now.
"It'll give you time to think."
"Yeah."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"It's what I wanted five minutes ago, but it's not what I want now."
"Huh?"
"I was scared, you know? Scared to tell him because he might not say it back."
"But you're not anymore?"
"No. I'm even more scared. With every passing moment that I'm not next to him I realize how hard I've fallen. Scared is an understatement. I'm terrified. I don't think I could live without him. I wouldn't want to. But it's scarier having to sit here and wonder, thinking that this might be over before it even has a chance to begin, than it would be to just know. If I told him right now I'd get my answer, even if it's the one I don't want. That'd be it, you know? I hate not knowing."
"I've been where you are."
"And?"
"Sometimes it's better not knowing."
"That's not what I wanted to hear."
"You're right. When you don't know, you feel like you're suffocating. You just wish someone would put you out of your misery, whether that means breathing air into your lungs or putting a bullet in your head. But you forget you also have that hope that someone is waiting for you with oxygen on hand. Right now you just want to know whether it's life or death. But right now life is also a possibility. When you finally get your answer, it could be death and then even the possibility of life would be gone. So don't think that not knowing is the worst thing."
"Great pep-talk, Mere. Way to spread the bright and shiny!"
"I have trouble maintaining my own bright and shiny, don't expect me to try to guard yours too! Besides you wouldn't want me to lie to you."
"Maybe, in this case, I wish you would."
"No. Thinking you know and being wrong is worse than not knowing or knowing." Izzie scrunched up her face. "Come on, let's go."
"But this is my day off!"
"Exactly. That's why we are leaving the hospital."
"I'm going to waste my entire day thinking about this. I get one day off in three weeks and I'm spending it in purgatory!" She complained
"Am I going to have to push you again?"
"SHUT UP!" Izzie yelled at the oven timer as she slid across the kitchen floor. "You're so impatient!" She peered into the oven and then reset the timer for another five minutes.
When Mark opened the door all he saw was a blur of color running from room to room. The hallway was strewn with every cleaning product he'd ever heard of and a few he hadn't. For a second he felt the need to walk out of the house and check the address, he was sure he'd never seen Meredith clean. But then he heard her voice.
In response to an alarm that had started to beep, she hollered, "Meredith, could you get that?" When no answer came, she screamed, "MEREDITH! Damn it, fine, I'll get it. Have to do everything… Mark," she froze at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?"
He smiled at her appearance. An apron was tied messily around her waist, her hair looked like it'd been through a hurricane, her glasses were balanced crookedly on her nose, and a sock was higher up on one leg than the other.
"I finished my surgery."
"So this is your lunch break? And you chose to come here? Don't get me wrong, you're welcome here." As she rambled on, he made his way over to where she was standing. "But this certainly wouldn't be my first choice. Seriously, the house is a mess most of the time and grocery shopping, well it doesn't happen regularly. We have a schedule." He removed her glasses from her face and studied them. "But we don't always have time to follow it." She stopped talking, watching his actions curiously.
"I didn't know you wore glasses."
"Just to read."
"You're not reading."
"I was. I was reading a recipe…oh, crap!" She ran into the kitchen and pulled out the casserole. It was a little brown, more so than she would have liked, but it wasn't ruined. Shutting off the oven, she turned to face him. "You never really answered my question."
"Well, it's actually you that has some explaining to do. What did you want to talk to me about this morning?"
She flushed. I'm not ready. I'm not ready for this. I'm so not ready for this. "I… I… I don't remember," she stuttered lamely.
The kind, but amused smile on his face told her what he was thinking before he opened his mouth. "I don't believe you." He grabbed her hand and led her over to the couch. Taking a seat, he pulled her into his lap. "What's up?"
Staring down at her hands, her voice barely audible, she mumbled, "I don't want to tell you."
"Yes, you do. You wouldn't have gone to the hospital to find me if you didn't."
"It sucks that you're a surgeon, so freakin' smart."
"You love it." Her eyes flashed up to meet his.
He has to know. He can't not know.
"So, spill. What is it?"
"Mark, I…"
"Yes?"
Her gaze returned to her hands, lying restlessly on her knees. "You know."
"That's not going to work. It's not enough." He had to hear her say it. He wouldn't believe it otherwise.
She took a deep breath and then looked up at him. "Mark, I'm in love with you."
He wasn't surprised at her declaration, but he wasn't expecting what it'd do to him. He'd thought about this moment over and over again since he'd had her sandwiched between him and the wall that one fateful day. He'd imagined how it'd feel to hear her say those words. But nothing prepared him for the reality. It was like he felt everything all at once, the systematic firings of his nerve endings, the warm flow of blood through his veins, the tension in the fiber of his muscles, everything. He was alive.
"I know that this is… fast. I mean, it hasn't even been a week, has it?" As she continued on, he realized he hadn't responded.
"It's been exactly a week."
"Really?"
"Yes, I've been keeping track."
"You've been keeping… why?" She wrinkled her nose.
"Do you remember that day?"
"Unfortunately."
"Do you remember what I told you?"
"You said a lot of things."
Pain crossed his features as he felt a twinge at the memory and the fact that it had so visibly stayed with her. "Yeah, well, it was after you said I couldn't seduce you. I said," he paused aware that what he was saying could come off very wrong. "You'd be under me by the end of the week." The tensing of her features told him she was offended. Bringing up that day was something he'd hoped never to have to do, but it was part of their history together. He couldn't change what he'd done and he didn't want to forget or he'd be vulnerable to repeat those same mistakes. Knowing that he'd have to deal with his fair share of the unpredictable, he figured he needed to avoid all the mistakes that he possibly could. He couldn't lose her. She was…
"Is that what I am to you? A challenge…" He wasted no time silencing her panicked accusations with his lips. She responded at first, but quickly pulled back looking angrier.
"You are a challenge, but that has nothing to do with why I'm sitting here on your couch. Everything I've said to you, everything I've done with you…" He sighed. "Izzie, I'm not messing around here. This is it. You are it."
Seeing that she wasn't going to be convinced by rhetoric, (even if that rhetoric was romantic as hell, he thought) he decided to rely on the evidence of sincerity in his actions.
"Izzie, you are the only woman I have ever taken to bed with me and not slept with."
"I believe that. But how do I know that you weren't just not sleeping with me then so you could sleep with me now?"
He laughed, which he realized was an inappropriate reaction by the way she shifted in his lap. "Since when are you so insecure?"
"Mark, I love you, I really do, but you're still a mystery to me. I don't know what to think. Most men are either looking for a relationship or an easy lay. I thought I had you figured out. But then you changed my mind. Now I honestly don't know what to think."
"Izzie," he shushed her. "I'm not heartless."
"I didn't mean to imply…"
"Let me finish. I would never work this hard just for sex. Besides, I wouldn't have to. There are very few women who would refuse me," he joked lightly.
"Well, if you want them then don't waist your time on me." He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly against him.
"That's just it. I don't want them. I want you and only you." His voice dropped. "I love you."
She turned around in his lap to face him. For a long moment she merely sat there looking at him, staring with fascination into his eyes as one might a telescope lens. Then she slowly leaned in, for the first time initiating a kiss between them. He eagerly responded, his hands moving behind her head and into her hair. She allowed his tongue to part her lips and explore her mouth. A soft moan made its way from her throat.
"Mark…" Her hands crawled down his chest to tug on the bottom of his shirt.
"Izzie, maybe we should move…"
"Oh, shit!" Meredith blurted as she stumbled from the room, her hands covering her eyes. "I didn't see anything. I'm on my way out right now!"
Heat radiated from Izzie's cheeks and she dropped her forehead against his chest.
"If I wasn't so freakin' grateful for her misguided meddling, I would so kill her." He laughed into her hair. Once she heard the door slam, which for doing so Meredith yelled "Sorry," and then yelled, "Sorry," a second time for having yelled so loudly the first, Izzie cleared her throat, "So… what is this?"
"This is a boyfriend who really wants to have sex with his girlfriend."
"Nooo, I meant…"
He kissed her with every word he spoke "I. Know. What. You. Meant."
"Girlfriend?" She whimpered as his lips moved down her neck.
"That okay with you?" He asked, his fingers unbuttoning her shirt. In the state of delirium his mouth had put her, she could only nod. When she pulled at the drawstrings of his scrubs, he scooped her into his arms and carried up to her bedroom, softly laying her on the bed.
(A/N: READ before continuing – from here to the end, this chapter is rated M.
Mark pulled off his own shirt before sliding Izzie's off her arms. Placing her hands against his torso, she kissed his chest, right above his heart. At this tender gesture, he stopped. "Are you sure that…"
"I want you," she declared simply, beautifully. Then she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra and he needed no more persuasion.
He gently pushed her back into the bed and slid her jeans over her hips. The image of Izzie before him in only her panties took his breath away.
"God you're beautiful. Those photos don't do you justice," he whispered as he traced the edge of her panty line, causing her to whimper. He placed a kiss on her tattoo. "You're going to have to tell me about that."
"Later," she moaned. He kissed up her abdomen to her breasts, covering one with his mouth. She mumbled something he couldn't make out.
"What?" He asked, removing his mouth from her breast, only to replace it with his hand, causing her to writhe at his soft touch.
"Take off your clothes." He smirked before pushing his pants off. "And come here." He crawled up her body and captured her lips. In response, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, locking her mouth against his.
With the pads of his fingers he drew a path from her chin, along her jaw, down her throat, across her collar bone, down her side to her hipbone, just barely grazing her breast as he went.
"I need you, now, Mark." He smiled against her lips. As he lightly brushed his fingers over her panties, she gasped.
"God, Izzie, you're so wet."
"Mark…" He hooked his fingers through her panties and quickly removed them.
"Please," she whimpered as his mouth hovered over hers. "Take me."
That was it for him. Any semblance of self-control was forgotten and a need to indulge her fantasy replaced it. "I love you," he whispered into her ear before entering her.
As he moved within her, she was sure she could feel him everywhere in her body. The scent of him, the taste of him, the feel of him, her every sense was overwhelmed by this man.
Mark couldn't get enough of the feel of her underneath him. His hands roamed over every inch of her skin, memorizing every scar, every freckle.
It wasn't long before she felt herself nearing her climax. "I'm so close," she groaned.
He moved his arms to either side of her head and pressed himself harder into her. Completely covered by his body, she felt herself fall into a sensory enlightenment.
"Oh, God… Mark!"
Hearing her voice call his name brought him to his own peak, after which he collapsed on top of her. For a moment they remained as they were, content with the world and their place in it.
He rolled leisurely over, pulling her with him. As she rested on top of his chest, drifting in and out of sleep, he placed butterfly kisses along the curvature of her neck. Unable to resist the urge to touch her, he ran his index finger up and down the length of her spine, causing her to shiver.
"I never want to get out of this bed," he breathed.
"Makes you wonder why you didn't ask me out sooner, doesn't it?" She teased drowsily.
"I tried, but you were so damn stubborn…" He pulled her up to his face, her lips inches from his own. "We have all afternoon and night to make up for the lost time," he said huskily. And without another sound, he eliminated the space between them.
A/N: Sorry for the interruption, I hate to insert such comments in the middle of a scene, but if I would have posted it at the top of the chapter that would have kind of given away how it was going to end.
Okay, so I'm seeing some drama in the future… I mean, there was some struggling to get together in the first place, so there's going to have to be some struggling to stay together, it's only logical, right? I don't know how much further I will take this story though, I have at least 3 ideas for other fics (all McStizzie-centric) that I'd really like to start and I'm not the kind of person to juggle multiple storylines – I screw even screw-proof things up, so there's no sense in me putting myself in a position where I have to keep my characterizations and plots from getting confused.
I figured it's about time to holler a big, giant thanks again to those reviewers who have followed this story all this time – I know my writing is a little rusty and the story idea isn't really novel, but you've all made me feel so spectacular and I definitely have renewed faith in the destiny that is McStizzie. So, though I'm sure you know who you are, here it goes:
LW107: Lilly, as always, I love reading your reviews because I regard your own writing so highly. I was sad to hear that Vanilla was just a one-shot, I also felt a little stupid after I posted the review and saw that the story's status was 'complete,' the fic just had me floating on a cloud, I couldn't concentrate on much else. Anyway, I do like to include funny and try to keep things light-hearted, I like the happy ending, you know? But drama is coming, nothing too heavy I don't think, but I do have this somewhat evil urge to test the relationship.
Amnesie: Between you and Lilly, I have the best role models for McStizzie poetry. Reading your stories always inspires me to try a little harder, think a little more creatively. So thank you for taking the time to review this, it keeps me inspired.
Murgy31: I'm so glad you reviewed my story 'cause I was able to find your story through it! I really love how a lot of the people who've reviewed this have their own McStizzie fic – we have to keep fighting the good fight. :)
JustMe-xo: Your reviews continue to make me feel all warm and fuzzy! I'm right there with you, wanting to squeeze Mark – I'm vaguely aware that I've been writing him as kind of a very McDreamy McSteamy, that's how I picture Mark in love (plus when a girl – or at least this girl – has a pen in hand, she can't help but write the guy to be the kind of man she'd fall in love with). I do think Mark's charming and romantic, which I hope we get to see more of next season on GA – the writers really haven't revealed much of Mark's story and there's just so much potential there.
musicforlife: Tawny, thank you so so much for your flattering review!!! I totally agree with you about the George thing, Gizzie absolutely makes me nauseous! They're great as friends and I absolutely adore George (though the writers seemed to have really written him out of character this last season, he's been in such a dark place), but I never saw them as anything more, so I thought we kind of got slapped in the face with that one – one moment Izzie's having this beautiful 'moment' with Denny (after that 3-ep Mere drowns arc) and then she's having adulterous, drunken sex with her best friend, ummm, no… just no. Okay, I'm done rambling now. Anyway, I'm sooo glad you found yourself on this website! It's such a huge compliment to have a number one fan, hehe!
Even if you didn't get a personal shout out, I love all of you who are reading this!!!
