Chapter 35:

Author's Note: Originally, I had no intention of writing about Lexie's pregnancy. I was going to skip right to the eighth month of her pregnancy and keep it like that (you'll see why)… But as I was reading over your reviews, and I felt a little guilty just skipping past all that time. So hopefully, these first few sections will suffice. (Before I forget, let me add in a quick warning—there's a light sex scene in here. Nothing much, but, as always, just warning ya.)

This chapter picks up three months after the last chapter. To keep things simple, just remember that each section is spaced a month apart, excluding September.

Thank you all for your reviews on the last chapter!

Please enjoy this one as well:

. . .

June, three months later

. . .

"Arizona's been looking at me funny," Lexie announces as she walks into the apartment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mark calls from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready, by the way."
"Oh, thank you," Lexie sighs in relief, dumping her purse by the door and heading towards the dining table. "Sorry I'm so late, one of my kids coded—"

"Is he okay?" Mark asks, setting identical plates of fish and rice in front of either chair.

"She," Lexie corrects, "is fine. There was a scare with one of her medications, and since we just operated—"

Mark nods. "Parents went crazy."

Lexie half-smiles, just thinking about the fact that they will soon fall under that demographic as well: parents. "Uh, yeah," she replies after a moment, taking her seat. "I had to bring in Arizona to get them to completely calm down." She glances to her watch. "God, it's almost eight-thirty." She gives him a guilty frown as he walks around the island to sit next to her. "I'm so sorry I'm this late. I was supposed to be home an hour ago—"

Mark waves a hand, passing her a knife and fork. "Don't worry about it." He takes a seat next to her. "So Arizona looked at you funny over that? Because you had to bring her in to calm down a couple whacked-out parents?"

Lexie shakes her head with a smile, taking a bite of her fish. "Mm, it's good," she murmurs after second. "And no, it wasn't that," she adds, catching his eye. "She thinks I'm getting fat," Lexie informs him.

Mark grins, chuckling. "And what did you say?"

"Well, she asked if I wanted to come to some to some cycling class she's taking with Callie—"

"Subtle," Mark notes.

"She's a forthright person," Lexie replies. "But I said it wouldn't be a good idea in my condition."

Mark shrugs. "You wouldn't have any problem going if you wanted to. You could even—Wait," he interrupts himself, turning to meet his wife's eyes. "You told her about the baby?"

Lexie smiles at his shock, shaking his head. "No, don't worry, I didn't. I faked some cramps and back pains to get out of it," she explains.

Mark stares at her for a few seconds before sighing quietly. "Remind me why we haven't told anyone again?"

"Mark," Lexie replies patiently, "we've been over this. I didn't want to tell anyone until we got past—"

"—the first trimester," Mark finishes for her. "Yes, I know. But nothing has gone wrong; the baby's still there. It's two days until July," he reminds his wife. "Time to tell people."

Lexie sighs. "Fine," she mutters after a moment, taking another bite of fish.

"We can invite them here for the Fourth," Mark suggests.

Lexie chuckles. "Yes, and for what purpose? You can't even see the fireworks from our apartment."

"Well, the purpose would be to announce the fact that we're having a baby together, but I see how that can pale in comparison to an annual pyrotechnics show."

Lexie rolls her eyes. "I mean, what are we going tell everyoneto get them to come here?" Lexie corrects. "I can't just go up to Arizona and say, 'So Mark and I are having a baby together. Want to come to dinner? Forget what I just said; we've got a big announcement.'"

"Well, maybe that would shut her up about your weight," Mark smirks. "And, no, I was thinking we'd just have a nice dinner. Invite our friends. You can bring Molly, too," he adds.

Lexie waves a hand. "She already knows."

"I think she'd want to come, regardless," he points out.

"Yeah, she would." Lexie nods after a moment. "Okay. We'll make a list and talk to them all tomorrow."

Mark nods, turning back to his dinner. "Sounds good."

"Oh, and by the way," Lexie adds offhandedly as she takes a bite of rice. "Arizona is coming. So you have to invite Callie."

Mark shrugs. "Fine."

"Fine?" Lexie repeats dubiously, staring at him.

"She apologized," Mark reminds her.

"That doesn't mean you forgave her," Lexie points out, remembering the very short and awkward conversation they'd had when she'd found out they were married.

Mark sighs softly, staring at his wife. "No," he concedes finally. "It does not."

"Do me a favor," Lexie urges him, "and just forgive her already. That part of my life—both our lives—is in the past. Why don't you leave that fight in the past, too?"

It's a long minute before Mark mutters an annoyed, "Fine." He looks up a moment later, catching his wife's eye. "Just remember that I'm not promising anything, okay? I'll talk to her, but that's it."
"Good," Lexie nods. "That's all I ask."

. . .

July

. . .

"Okay," Mark begins, standing up from his chair and looking down the length of his dining room table. "I guess I should start by explaining why Lexie and I asked you all here tonight." His eyes flicker to his wife, and he can't help but grin. "Well, we both thought that—"

There's an impatient sigh from the other end of the table, and Mark quickly finds Teddy Altman's sharp eyes staring at him. "Can we hurry this up, please?" She asks after a tense second. She looks around when she notices that everyone else is staring at her. "What?" She snaps defensively. "I just got off a five-hour surgery and came straight here." She turns to Mark. "I haven't eaten since noon!"

Mark glares at her for a moment before replying, "Stop interrupting and maybe I'll consider feeding you." He pauses, waiting to see if she has another other complaints. When Teddy simply flops back in her chair with crossed arms, he resumes speaking. "Like I was saying," Mark continues, "Lexie and I thought that now would be a good time to—"

"Why did you have to bring the food out if you were going to talk for an hour?" Teddy complains, groaning aloud. "Seriously, the smell is driving me crazy. It—"

"You're driving me crazy," Mark half-growls. "Will you shut up, please, because this is important—"

Callie Torres' amused chuckle interrupts him. She glances between Mark and Lexie, her eyes flitting from one end of the table to the other. "Oh, just spit it out already, you two!" She grins. "Whatever the news is, just say it, so Teddy can stop acting like a starving animal and return to being a normal human." She smirks, looking between the apprehensive couple before her eyes settle on the plastic surgeon. "What'd you do, knock her up or something?" She laughs. "Just tell us, whatever it is!"

Mark's face freezes immediately at her joking guess, his eyes flying to his wife's.

"Oh, shit," Callie whispers immediately, grasping the reality of her words in mere seconds. Her head whips around automatically, her eyes flying to Lexie. "I'm so sorry," she whispers frantically. "It was a joke, I—I had no idea! I never mean to ruin the surprise, I just—Lexie, I'm so sorry—"

"AH-HA!" Arizona Robbins shouts, jumping to her feet and pointing a triumphant finger at her coworker. Her eyes bright and victorious as they zero in on the brunette at the other end of the table. "I knew you weren't fat!" She declares happily. "It's physically impossible for you to get fat!"

"Arizona—" Lexie begins with a laugh.

"You're having a kid?" Derek asks in disbelief, staring at Mark with wide eyes.

"Uh, yeah," Mark replies, turning to the neurosurgeon and removing himself from the spectacle across the table. "I thought Meredith would've—"

"How long have you known?" Derek interrupts.

"Three months," Mark replies slowly, watching in confusion as his best friend's eyes narrow to critical blue slits. "What—"

"You have known about this for three months," Derek begins incredulously,"and in all that time you never once thought to tell me—"

"I—"

"Have we or have we not been best friends since the first grade?" Derek interrupts angrily.

"You threw a basketball at my head at recess," Mark replies sharply. "I wouldn't exactly call us best friends in first grade."

Derek's mouth twists into a frown. "You'll never forget that, will you? I was five, Mark."

"Yeah, well, it made quite an impression, Shep. I had a lump on my head for a week and a half. Even my parents noticed."

"But this—this—" Derek throws up his hands, at a loss for words. Sitting beside him, Meredith smiles, getting to her feet and walking a few steps to her brother-law-in. She hugs him briefly, glancing to Derek as she pulls back.

"I think what my husband was trying to say," she beings, is that he's feeling—"

"—forgotten," Derek cuts in. "Pushed aside. Neglected. Abandoned."

"—overwhelmed," Meredith corrects sternly, "and he can't quite come up with an appropriate response."

Mark chuckles. "Don't worry about it," he replies. "Derek's never been one for appropriate responses." He smiles at Meredith. "At least you know how to handle yourself." He smirks a second later. "And at least you didn't tackle Lexie like Molly did."

Meredith's forehead creases, glancing down the table to her youngest half-sister. "What?" She asks after a moment, looking back to Mark.

"Oh," he replies off-handedly. "It was a while ago. May, I think. Molly almost tackled her to the ground." He grins at the memory. "It was like she was trying to squeeze the life out of Lexie with one hug. I thought I was going to have to take her to the hospital," he jokes.

Meredith opens her mouth to reply, but before she does, she turns around, walking quickly to the far side of the dining room table. Mark watches her go, confused at her change in behavior, before shrugging and turning back to his best friend. "So," he begins, "are you—"

"Ah," Derek cuts in. "Did you just remember I was here? Your best friend?"

Mark rolls his eyes, sinking into his chair with a sigh. He glances down the other side of the table tiredly, watching in confusion as all three Grey sisters seem to all be drawn into the same argument.

"You told Molly but not me?" Meredith demands when she comes to standstill next to Lexie's chair. The brunette looks over, startled by the outrage in the blonde's voice.

"Mer," she smiles, "what are you—"

"I should've known first!" Meredith half-shouts.

"You knew we were trying," Lexie replies with a light laugh. "Isn't that enough? Plus," she adds, "I thought you didn't want all the naked details. You said so at—"

"Lexie," Meredith sighs in exasperation. "I am going to be an aunt—and it didn't even cross your mind to inform me of that reality? I mean, not telling Derek I get, because—he's useless."

"Hey!" The neurosurgeon protests from the far side of the table. Meredith waves him away impatiently.

"I may fail to tell you thinks now and again," Mark mutters when Derek settles back into his seat, "but at least I don't call you useless."

Derek shakes his head, glaring down the table at his wife. "Remind me again why I married that woman. I seem to have forgotten."

Mark grins, chuckling. He's about to reply when he hears the chair next to him get pulled away. Teddy Altman sits down heavily. Her eyes linger on the bowl on rice sitting between her seat and Derek's for a few seconds before turning to Mark.

"If I offer my congratulations," Teddy begins, "can I please eat?"

Mark smirks, standing up and reaching down the table to grab the plate of chicken from the center of the table. He sets it in front of Teddy, glancing down the table as he hears the eldest Grey carry on loudly.

"But me—" Meredith is saying. "You couldn't tell me? Your sister? You lived in my house for almost five years!"

"Dig in," he tells the cardiothoracic surgeon, "I have a feeling we'll be here for a while."

"Oh, thank god," Teddy replies enthusiastically, already picking up and a fork and a knife to carve into the meat. "By the way," she adds, "that is really great news. About the baby. Just fantastic." Derek and Mark watch in fascination as she remains completely focused on transferring the food in front of her to her plate without once looking up to meet the expecting father's eyes. "Great, good," Teddy mutters, staring at her food with her knife and fork poised to act. "Awesome news."

"Just eat, Altman," Mark sighs. "Congratulate me when you've returned to sanity."

Teddy doesn't even reply, nor nod in thanks. She digs into her food without a word, and Mark and Derek lapse into silence as Molly and Meredith argue over who's the more important sister.

Mark catches his wife's eye with an amused roll of his eyes. Lexie's grinning at him when he looks back to her, and as she reclines comfortably in her chair, letting the arguments and fights continue on without her, she mouths the words, I told you so.

Mark smiles, muttering under his breath. "I did not think it would be this bad."

"Really?"

Mark looks to his left, seeing Callie stand to the right of Teddy's chair. She spares a half-disgusted glance for the starving surgeon before catching Mark's eyes. "You really didn't think it would be this bad?" She repeats with amusement. "You obviously don't know your friends." She looks around, glancing from the dejected Derek to the totally out-of-it and soon-to-be-proclaimed competitive eater Teddy Altman. "Can I talk to you in private for a minute?" She asks quietly.

Mark nods, sparing a quickly glance to Lexie before following after the Latina. She smiles as the watches them walk away, hoping things will be sorted out once and for all. Her attention is quickly diverted.

"Hey, pregnant lady," Arizona calls, practically shoving her way through the still-bickering Molly and Meredith to get to Lexie, "we have to talk about maternity leave."

"So," Callie begins as they walk into the kitchen. She comes to a stop by the island, and the two stand side-by-side.

"Callie," Mark begins quietly. "If—"

"Congratulations."

Mark starts, his head whipping over to hers at the compliment. Callie smiles at his disbelieving expression. "You really think I wouldn't be happy about this?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

Mark shrugs, not trusting himself to reply.

Callie sighs tiredly after a moment. "Okay," she begins. "Can we just get this over with?" She pauses, waiting for Mark to look at her. Once he painstakingly raises his eyes to hers, she continues. "I was a bitch," she states. "I get it, okay? I see that now, I understand—" She breaks off with an exasperated sigh. "Mark," she says quietly. She holds his gaze for a long minute before speaking softly. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'm sorry for what I said and what I did…" She heaves a quiet breath. "But you just have to understand how all this looked to me."

"Maybe if you had understood how it looked to me—"

"Right," Callie cuts in, "cause you sure were big on sharing back then."

Mark sighs angrily, turning away. For a second, Callie's sure he's going to drop their conversation there and walk back to the party. But he freezes on in the doorway, and eventually, after a few minutes, he turns around. "Just say it," he tells her quietly. "Just say what you came to say and we can all move on."

Callie frowns at him, but she resists the urge to throw up her hands and walk away herself. Instead, she takes a few steps to her right so she can look directly at him. "I had no idea," she begins quietly. "I had no idea what she meant to you, okay? Obviously, I knew you loved her—loved—" she stresses "—but I thought that was in the past. You two broke up, and then she dated Jackson, and from then on, it was just him and her. I—Mark, it never crossed my mind that you two would do something like that. I never thought—"

"And here you go," he cuts in. "Blaming us again. Condemning us again."

"I'm not condemning anyone," Callie replies evenly. "And if I was going to blame anyone, it'd be her."

"Funny," Mark mutters, "she wasn't the one you attacked."

"I was angry," Callie reminds him, recalling that night. "I was angry, okay, because I thought you were finally pulling your life together—"

"I was," Mark cuts in, feeling his temper flare. "I have."

"Yes, I know," Callie replies, forcing herself to stay calm. "I know that. But back then—you can see how I thought you were just ruining her marriage for no reason."

"No, I really can't, Cal."

"Mark."

"What?" He snaps, his eyes flashing to hers. "What do you want me to say? That I understand? That you were justified? Because I don't," he answers for her. "And you weren't."

"If you would let me apologize," Callie tells him, "then maybe you would understand."

"You had no right to say what you did."

Callie nods. "Yes, I know that." She pauses, waiting for him to speak again. "Look," she mutters quietly when he doesn't, "I had no idea about you two. I had no idea that what had been going on had been going on for years… At most, I thought you two had slept together just once or twice and she decided to call it quits with Jackson for old times' sake. I…" Callie lets out a large sigh, meeting his intense blue gaze. "Mark, I didn't know you still loved her. I knew you hadn't moved on to anyone else, but I thought you'd at least moved past her…" Callie gives him a small smile. "And when I heard it all, I… I didn't think it was possible. I didn't think you two could have kept that up for that long, I…" She shakes her head. "Jesus, Mark, I had no idea you—let alone anyone—could love someone like that when you knew that they were so permanently with someone else."

Mark swallows, surprised to find the action rough and uncomfortable. "I couldn't let her go," he manages after a moment. "It wasn't an option."

"You love her." Callie stares at him in silence, but when she speaks, her voice is far from unkind. "You always have."

It's a long moment before Mark finally nods.

"I didn't understand that back then," Callie informs him quietly. "I thought it was purely about sex, because I didn't believe you could love someone that long without actually being with them. Not just you, but—anyone. I didn't think that was possible, I didn't think it could be real. I…" She sighs quietly. "I underestimated you—and her—and I… I am truly sorry for that, Mark." She takes a quiet breath. "I realize, especially now that you two are having a baby together, that it was real. You and her, it was real. It is real."

Mark eyes her quietly for a minute before walking back to her side. He leans against the counter next to her for a silent minute before asking, "Why did you pick tonight to apologize?"

Callie looks over at him, chuckling kindly at his obliviousness. "Your wife is pregnant," she reminds him, as if he'd forgotten. "I think it's high time we got all of this shit out of the way before the baby comes."

Callie watches as a small smile tugs at her old friend's lips. "What?" She asks, wondering what's making her old friend smile.

"You…" He trails off, with a shake of his head. He turns toward the Latina and stares at her for a quiet moment. Callie finds a smile pull her own lips apart when she sees there's no anger in his expression. There's no fury or hatred, no exasperation or tiredness, no defeat that this is the way things are. Instead, his smile reaches his eyes, brightening their blue depths.

"You've never called her my wife before."

Callie smirks at him, nudging his side lightly. "Well, you haven't exactly talked to me since you became her husband. So I didn't have an opportunity."

Mark can't help but smile at the title, but he glance to his feet, muttering, "I didn't think that we had anything to say to each other anymore."

Callie smiles faintly. "Yeah… Why was I invited, anyway? Tonight? It didn't seem like you—" She breaks off, coming to the conclusion herself. "Lexie," she settles on.

Mark nods. "She wanted Arizona to be here, and she thought it'd be insulting not to invite you. Plus…she's been wanting us to make up."

Callie nods, giving him a small smile. "I guess she'll be happy, then."

"That's the goal."

Callie chuckles quietly. "Oh, so this is all for her, is it?" She jokes.

"Yes," Mark replies. His expression is grave; his eyes serious. "It is."

Callie studies his face for a second before nodding her head and smiling. "Okay," she replies easily. She turns and heads back to the dining room; Mark follows after her a moment later.

"I think you should go and save your wife," Callie mutters as they approach the table.

Mark's eyes scan their guests quickly: Derek and Teddy are the only two eating. Arizona seems to be trying to hold a conversation with Lexie, but she is continually interrupted. Standing on either side of Lexie's chair, Molly and Meredith are still arguing, their slightly similar voices reverberating around the apartment as they quarrel loudly over Lexie's head. Every few seconds, one of them tugs on her arm, demanding her opinion on their character. Mark quickly makes a beeline for that half of the table, intent on silencing the two sisters.

Mark nods in agreement. "She's going to go deaf if this goes on much longer," Mark mutters to Callie before making his way quickly across the room and separating the half-sisters.

. . .

August

. . .

"Have you thought about who to pick for godparents?" Lexie asks one night in late August, finding her husband's eyes in the darkness beside her as they lie in bed together.

"I just assumed we'd go with Meredith and Derek if we picked anyone at all," Mark replies. He glances down to her growing stomach. "It isn't too late, is it?"

Lexie shrugs. "I don't think the timing matters much. But," she whispers softly, finding his hand and lacing her fingers through his. "If—if something happens to us, I don't want our baby to be without parents."

"If something happens to us, she will be without parents," Mark replies, stroking the back of her hand softly with his thumb. "There's kind of no way around that once it happens."

"Mark, come on. You and I both know that Meredith and Derek would treat her like she was their own kid." Mark nods in agreement. "I just wanted to make it official, is all," Lexie tells him. "I didn't want to be begging them to take care of our baby while I'm in labor."

Mark laughs quietly. "But they could hardly refuse then, could they?"

Lexie smiles. "No, they couldn't. But I doubt they'd refuse anyway."

"Okay," Mark nods. "Let's ask tomorrow, then."

Lexie thinks for a second before a knowing smirk spreads over her face. "Derek will demand to know the sex, you know. I'm sure that will be his price for being godfather."

Mark grins. "I know."

"And you still aren't going to tell him," Lexie concludes. She shakes her head, twisting her head to the side on the pillow so she can get a clearer look at him. "Remind me again why we're keeping it a secret?"

"Because I get to keep him guessing all the while," Mark replies. Lexie can see his eyes light up with mischief even in the darkness. "It's more fun this way," he grins.

"Says the man who hates surprises," Lexie adds. "How could you inflict this kind of torture on your best friend?"

"He doesn't consider it torture," Mark smiles. "At least, not as much as I do. Plus, I rarely get to hold things over him. Just give me this one thing," he implores her.

Lexie shakes her head at his antics with a laugh. "Fine, fine," she mutters. "Go ahead and screw with him if you like."

"You better not tell," Mark warns her.

Lexie holds up her right hand solemnly. "I swear I won't tell."

Mark grins, taking her hand in his and squeezing both her right and left within his hands. "Good," he whispers, just before pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers.

. . .

October

. . .

"I am fat," Lexie states, standing in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom.

Mark sighs from the adjoining bathroom, spitting out the last of his toothpaste and sticking his head out the door. "You're pregnant," Mark replies, studying her from head to toe as she stand before the mirror in a pair of black panties and a bra.

"I'm still fat."

"No, you're not."

"Mark," Lexie mutters, obviously annoyed with his coddling. "Come on." She turns to the side, resting her hands lightly on her distended stomach. "It's fat. And I look ridiculous."

"It's a baby," Mark corrects, coming up behind her and joining his hands with hers. He leans down to press his lips into the soft skin of her shoulder. "And you look so far from ridiculous."

Lexie rolls her eyes at him, catching his eyes in the mirror a moment later. "Look at me," she instructs him, running her hands over her bare stomach. "I'm too small for all this weight. It looks like I'm carrying five babies instead of just one."

She watches as half of his mouth turns up in a grin.

"Maybe they read the ultrasound really, really wrong," he offers.

Lexie shakes her head, adamant. "I look ridiculous," she repeats.

"You don't look ridiculous," he murmurs, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her midsection as he steps closer. "You look—"

Lexie shoves him away the second his lower body comes in contact with hers, spinning around with accusing eyes. "Mark!"

"What?" He asks, stumbling back and feigning ignorance as to the interruption.

"You think I didn't feel that?" Lexie demands, sparing a quick glare at his waist before her returning her sharp eyes to his own. "Jesus, Mark, come on!"

"What?" He protests, internally cursing himself for not having a more graceful lead-in. Idiot, he thinks to himself. "I can't help it!"

"You can also not be so obvious about it!" She glares at him, pointing to the door. "Go away. I can't even think about having sex with you right now."

He raises his eyebrows. "Excuse me, Lex?"

"God," she groans, "not that I should be boosting your self-worth, but this isn't about you, you narcissistic jerk! It's because I'm fat, Mark!" She puts her hands on her hips, glaring angrily at him. "I am not getting naked right now and inviting you to go to town just because you can't keep it in your pants!"

"You're not fat," he replies automatically, stepping towards her. He glances at her underwear. "And you're practically naked, already, if you haven't noticed. I certainly have and—"

She shakes her head at him in disgust. "Of course you noticed. And I thought you were legitimately trying to make me feel better," Lexie accuses. "But all you wanted to do was sleep with me."

He grins. "You should take it as a compliment, Little Grey."

"I take it as an insult!" Lexie snaps. "And I am not little, I am fat!"

"And doesn't it warm your heart to know that I'll still want you when you inevitably gain a hundred more pounds?" He smirks, knowing he's tempting fate.

Lexie's eyes go wide for a second before she snatches her hairbrush off the dresser. He ducks, laughing aloud as she chucks it at him.

"Go away before I really hit you," she tells him.

"I'm reporting you for spousal abuse," Mark calls over his shoulder as he leaves their bedroom.

"Yeah, we'll see if you can get to the phone," Lexie mutters darkly before moving back to examine herself in front of the mirror.

. . .

"Is it safe to come to bed?" Lexie asks later that night around ten o'clock. "I really don't want to get jumped in my sleep," she says, eying her husband warily.

"I will keep my hands to myself." Mark sighs in exasperation, crossing his arms tightly to prove his point. "Okay?"

He watches as she climbs slowly into bed, pulling the covers up to her neck. "What are you, a nun?" He mutters. "Seeing two inches of skin will not make me—"

Lexie rolls her eyes. "I am cold, Mark," she informs him. "It's the fall."

"Oh," he mutters, looking away in embarrassment for having jumped to conclusions.

She smirks. "You really have to cool it with this sex thing," she tells him. "I am no closer to sleeping with you tonight than I was this morning." She eyes him. "You're only going to suffer more and drive yourself crazy if you keep this up."

"Trust me," Mark mutters under his breath, "no one is suffering more than me right now."

Lexie half-smiles, wanting to tease him, but knowing it would only make things worse. She leans over, kissing his cheek chastely in apology. "Night," she whispers.

"Night," he mutters in reply, turning over. She smiles slightly as he turns away, wondering absentmindedly just how much he really is suffering. She brushes the thought from her mind a moment later, settling herself against the sheets and closing her eyes. She falls soundly asleep in just a few minutes.

. . .

"Mark," Lexie whispers. "Mark, wake up."

"Hm?" He murmurs, forcing himself awake. He blinks at the clock beside the bed, blearily noting that it's four in the morning. He rolls over a second later, his vision still fuzzy in the darkness as he looks for her. "What is it? What are you—Lexie." He breaks off with a hiss, involuntarily bucking into her hand when he feels her fingers slip beneath his boxers and close around his penis. Lexie smiles to herself at his response, shifting closer.

"I don't think this really needs an explanation," she whispers in his ear, pressing her body against his and kissing his neck as she strokes him. "But if you want one…" She trails off, using both her hands to arouse him. "I didn't really feel like keeping my hands to myself."

Mark lets out a groan that sounds like a mixture between her name and a curse word. It's a few seconds before he can manage coherent speech. "What…happened to being too fat for—sex?"

"Well," Lexie replies, continuing her slow, delicious torture with her hands, "I changed my mind."

"And it was—that simple?"

"It's like a flipping a switch these days," Lexie replies softly. "I'm either totally on or totally off. And once I'm on…" She trails off seductively. "Well, I don't turn off easily."

"I—Jesus, Lex—I prefer totally on."

Lexie grins, squeezing him again before removing her hands from his thoroughly stiffened arousal. "I prefer you totally on, too," she grins, pressing her lips to his. Mark kisses back passionately, automatically rolling over to crouch above her—and immediately regretting the decision. Only when he's bracing himself above her with his arms fully extended does he feel like he's not crushing her.

"This won't work," he half-pants.

"Oh, Mark, come on," Lexie groans, tossing her head impatiently. She immediately regrets the obvious torture she must've put him through all day with her refusals. "Please, I need this. I need you. Right now. I woke up at three and waited an entire hour before waking you up! An hour! I can't wait any longer, Mark, please—"

"No," he cuts in quickly, "I meant like this." He looks pointedly between their bodies. "We can't do it like this, not in this position. I can't reach you."

Lexie sighs, deflated. "Well, I can't be on top," she sighs. "I'm too heavy to get it done properly."

Mark grins down at her. "Let's try something else, then."

"Mark," Lexie warns as he rolls off of her, "please remember that my body does not move like it used to. I'm not twenty-four anymore. And I have gained a few dozen pounds."

He laughs, sitting up in bed and bringing her with him. "Oh, don't worry. I never forget."

Lexie stares at him with narrowed eyes. "You," she says with a pointed finger, "need to learn when to shut up around pregnant women. Most wouldn't stand for your shit."

He grins. "Why are you, then?"

Lexie stares at him as if he asked her some inane question, like why the sky was blue. "Because I'm using you for sex, obviously."

He grins, running his hands over her sides. "Right, of course."

"And this baby is just a cumbersome side-effect."

Mark laughs aloud. "I'm going to tell her you said that," he grins. "That's the first thing I'll say when I see her. 'Your Mommy called you an accident.'"

Lexie's eyes widen. "Don't you dare! You of all people know how much I wanted a baby! This wasn't an accident—"

"It was joke, Lex," he assures her. He smiles slightly when she calms down. "Come on, I would never say that. You know that."

"Sorry," Lexie mutters. "My mind's just going crazy, I can't focus—sex!" She half-shouts, as if just remembering the reason why they're both wide-awake at four in the morning. "Come on, Mark, let's go already!"

"Okay, okay," he chuckles. "So there's a couple things we can do. If you want, we—"

"Mark," Lexie interrupts seriously, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Look, I love the planning and consideration, I do, and I love you, but—please, just whatever way is fastest. Whatever way can get me off quickest, because we've wasted enough time dicking around." She rolls her eyes when she sees his characteristic smirk take shape on his lips at her word choice. "I just—I need you," she whispers after a second. "Please, can we just—"

"Fine," he replies, holding back a wide grin at her sudden insistence. "Just turn around."

. . .

"Oh my," Lexie pants, collapsing against the sheets a couple minutes later. "Oh my—"

"God," Mark finishes for her, falling to the pillows beside her. "Oh my god."

"I can't breathe," she manages. "Seriously, I c—can't."

"I—I think my heart is going to beat out of my chest," Mark admits, still shaking.

They each take a few minutes to compose themselves, and when she can finally catch her breath, Lexie grins over at him. "I'm not going crazy, right?" She wonders aloud, reaching down to thread their fingers together. "That was—way more intense than usual."

"Yes," Mark replies, still struggling to slow his heartbeat, "it was."

Lexie grins, leaning over to kiss him hard on the mouth in thanks. "That was amazing," she whispers, pulling back. "Thank you."

"Don't go anywhere just yet," he murmurs, his eyes falling closed.

Lexie grins when his hands pull her closer and hold her in place. She leans against him, breathing deeply. Though he likes to play it up, she knows it will be a while yet until they're both ready for round two. In the meantime, she takes his free hand in hers, placing it on the large bulge that used to be her flat tummy.

"Hmm," Mark sighs softly, spreading his fingers wide and running his hand over her smooth belly. "Your skin feels wonderful."

Lexie grins, kissing his shoulder. "It does, doesn't it?"

He smirks without lifting his eyes from her stomach. "Getting cocky, are we?"

"I just initiated some of the best sex of our lives, and you're warning me not to be full of myself?" She grins. "Too late. I'm on top of the world."

"And that would be my doing, I believe."

She chuckles. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, love."

Mark laughs through a yawn. "That," he sighs, finally raising his eyes to hers, "what just happened here—will definitely help me sleep tonight."

Lexie leans over, resting her head on his shoulder. "I love sedating you with sex," she teases. "You sleep so peacefully afterwards. It's lovely to watch."

"Yeah, and I would still be sleeping peacefully tonight, but someone felt like exploring all over my—"

"You are seriously misunderstanding how much I wanted you," Lexie interrupts. "My libido right now is unreal. It's on or it's off, and when it's on—" She grins, catching his eye. "Well, it just doesn't turn off. Not unless someone does it for me."

Mark smirks. "And notice," he informs her a moment later, "how I helped you with that without a second thought. I gave you sex right away. I didn't hesitate, I didn't complain or whine about being fat—"

"Yes," Lexie laughs, "and you only did so because I had you half ready before you even woke up."

Mark shakes his head with a laugh, eyeing her. "I would say you were sexually harassing me by feeling me up while I was asleep," he tells her, "but I don't think it would counts, seeing as I thoroughly enjoyed waking up to the feel of your hands on me."

Lexie smiles. "Yeah, I figured you would," she replies smugly.

"You're really are confident tonight, aren't you?" He grins, leaning forward to kiss to her. Lexie kisses him back, reaching over to cup the back of his neck. She sighs in quiet annoyance when she pulls back, sadly unable to climb above him and too tired to start a repeat performance.

But he's smiling gently at her when they pull apart. "Three more months?" He asks softly as they settle back against the mattress.

Lexie grins involuntarily at his words, looking over to find his eyes, bright and excited, in the darkness. She leans over, pressing her lips lovingly to his. "Three more months," she confirms quietly.

. . .

November

. . .

"Are you tired?" Mark asks after the applause for the final speaker dies away.

Lexie shakes her head, biting back a sigh at the question. She's betting that this must've been the fiftieth time he'd asked her that same worried question in that same worried tone since they arrived at the conference an hour and a half ago.

"Do you want to go home?" Mark presses, holding out a hand to help her to her feet as the lights in the large conference room come back on. Lexie ignores the way his eyes linger on the concealed bags beneath her eyes as he stares at her. Instead, she glances around at the rest of her husband's colleagues, noticing how they've all begun mingling with one another. We'll be here for at least another two hours exchanging pleasantries, she thinks to herself, attempting to bite back a tired yawn.

"Lex?" Mark presses, noting her attempts to hide her fatigue.

"No, no," she replies quickly. "I'm fine." She casts her eye around the crowded conference room, but she only recognizes about one out of every five surgeons that her gaze lands upon. And even then, she only knows their last name or their specialty. She knows Mark would be able to name every one, but there's a reason she was a plus-one at this conference and he was the invited guest. "Let's… stay," she yawns. "You have people to speak to…"

"You're my wife who is currently eight months pregnant," Mark replies seriously, taking a step closer and resting his hand lightly on her lower back to support her. "The people I have to speak to will understand if we need to go home."

Lexie looks up at him, searching his expression for the honesty that she's come to find written all over his face every time he opens his mouth these days. "You sure?" She asks softly, her brown eyes staring up into his. "This is an important night for you…" When she had insisted on accompanying him to the conference tonight, she hadn't exactly realized that she'd be on her feet for a good amount of the evening. And even though they were short heels she was wearing, having that extra weight on her feet—weight she was still getting acclimated to carrying around—made every step a tiresome challenge.

"I'm positive," Mark replies, the finality in his voice drawing her back to the present and away from her woes as he begins ushering her towards the conference's exit. "Come on," he says, taking her hand and leading her through the crowd. Lexie follows behind at a slightly slower pace, taking her time and placing her feet carefully to keep her fatigue in check.

"You know," Mark mutters in her ear once they're at the door, "I would carry you if you weren't so fat."

"Don't be an ass," Lexie replies, giving him a one-handed shove as they make their way through the hotel's lobby and out into the chilly fall night.

"Stay here," Mark tells her, pecking her lips quickly as he walks away from the hotel's entrance. "I'll get the car."

"Mark, I'm fine," Lexie replies, attempting to follow. "I can walk, you know!"

"Just sit on the bench, please," he calls, already striding across the parking lot. "It'll only take a second."

Lexie just shakes her head, but takes a seat as he had suggested nonetheless. She sighs, brushing the hair back from her face as she hears the hotel's doors open and close behind her with various guests coming and going. She is checking through her purse a few seconds later when she hears someone call her name from behind the bench.

"Lexie?" A familiar voice asks, cloaked in disbelief.

She turns her head, twisting in her seat to get a good look at the owner of the voice behind her.

"Jackson?" She asks, squinting into the semidarkness by the hotel's entrance.

He walks towards her slowly, as if still confused that it's her. "So how've you…" He trails off when his eyes find her whole body. "Wow."

Lexie looks down, smiling sheepishly at her rotund belly. "I know," she replies. "I'm a whale."

"No, no," Jackson excuses. "You, um, you look really good."

"Right," Lexie replies. "You don't need to be polite," she adds with a smile, "I'm enormous."

"I'm serious," Jackson replies. His tone of voice makes Lexie pause and causes her eyes to meet his. "You look great."

She gives him a small smile, blinking up at him gratefully. "Well… Thank you," she replies after a moment, stunned. "That's very sweet of you to say."

"So, uh…" Jackson looks away, clearing his throat awkwardly. "When did this happen?"

"What?" Lexie asks, before noticing he's gesturing towards her stomach. She covers her left hand quickly before answering. "Oh, about eight months ago."

"Really? I never would have guessed you were in the final trimester."

"Ha-ha," Lexie deadpans. "But, yeah... I am."

Jackson taps his shoe against the pavement, and despite wanting to ask so desperately who the father is, he forces himself to hold his tongue.

"Yeah, uh, my, um, my boyfriend was actually just here," Lexie replies, stumbling through the lie. "From Seattle Pres."

"Oh, yeah?" Jackson asks, feeling relief flood his veins. It's not him. He smirks at her a second later in his light spirits. "Seattle Pres, though? Come on, Lex."

"What?" She smiles, more out of relief that be bought the lie more than anything else. "He's a good guy."

"I'm sure he is." Jackson pauses. "From a second-rate hospital," he adds jokingly. Lexie shakes her head with a smile. "So he was here tonight?" Jackson asks after a moment, wracking his brain. He's almost one hundred percent sure there was only one male surgeon from Seattle Presbyterian Hospital at the conference tonight.

"Yeah. I just stepped outside for some air."

Jackson nods, not trusting himself to be able to control the smile on his face and preparing to take his leave. "Well… congratulations. I'm really happy for you."

"Thank you," Lexie replies.

"I've gotta get back," he says, jerking his thumb back towards the hotel.

"See you, then," she smiles, watching him go for a brief second before facing forward again.

Jackson Avery heads back inside, unable to keep a smile off his face. When he returns to the conference room, he quickly scans the crowd of surgeons, looking for the surgeon he remembers being told earlier in the night was from Seattle Presbyterian Hospital. He spots him—just a few yards away—and fluidly inserts himself into the conversation. When there's a momentary break, he turns to the surgeon, studying him for a moment before asking, "You know your girlfriend's sitting outside?"

"What?" He asks, turning around. "Donna's over there." He points across the room where a pretty blonde woman is chatting with a handful of doctors. He turns back to Jackson with an amused smile. "I think you've got the wrong guy, man."

Jackson forehead creases, and he stares at the man, confused. "You're from Seattle Pres, aren't you?" The man nods, and Jackson's confusion grows more pronounces. Was there someone else that I missed? "But you're not…with Lexie Grey?"

"What?" The man laughs. "No, no, she's married."

Jackson pulls on his earlobe nervously. "I, uh, I think she got divorced, actually..."

The other surgeon frowns, glancing to the exit. "Well, no, I just saw her leave with her husband. Uh, what's-his-name…" He pauses, snapping his fingers to jog his memory. When that doesn't work, he turns to the man beside him. "Hey, Rob, who was that guy you were talking with before, about rhinoplasties? The one with the pregnant wife?"

"Oh, you mean Mark?" He glances to Jackson, noticing his rapt attention. "Yeah, that's Mark Sloan." He frowns. "Why, did you need to ask him something? You could run out and check, but they might already be gone. I think she was pretty tired. She's due next month, you know," he adds. "I'm surprised she even came." He lowers his voice with a grin. "I mean, come on. Sitting around listening to boring speeches for two hours? I'd rather sit at home and put my feet up if I were her."

"Oh, she was here for support," the woman next to him replies before Jackson can speak or even manage to take a breath. "Didn't want to leave him all by his lonesome."

"What? At a conference?" The man replies with a chuckle. "There are plenty of people to talk to."

"Oh, you know what I mean," the woman smiles. "She wanted to be by his side. Be on his arm. Plus, that was an amazing dress for someone as far along as she is in her pregnancy. She had to show it off somewhere. I mean, did you see the color…"

The woman's voice trails off, fading away, as Jackson's ears are dominated by the feeling of blood rushing at high speed all through his body. She's still lying to me, he realizes, hurrying away from the group as quickly as he appeared. After all this time, she still won't stop lying to me.

. . .

He's at the hotel's entrance half a minute later, having jogged to the door, consumed by some sick desperation to find out of what the other surgeons had said was true. "Lexie!" He calls, striding quickly through the automatic door of the lobby. He's about to walk through the one that separates him from her, when something stops him in his tracks. What they had said back in the conference was true. She's with him. He closes his eyes automatically; as if blocking the very real images of them together before his very eyes would silence the voices he can hear clearly floating in through the thin glass panels of the hotel's entrance.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine, Mark," he hears his ex-wife reply. It's been so long; it seems like her voice is coming to him from a dream. "I can walk, you know. I'm not an invalid."

"Yeah, but you will be in about a month."

"But I'm not now, so calm down."

"You're tired, can I just help—"

"Oh, stop, will you? I did not get pregnant so you could spend every waking minute freaking out that something bad is going to happen to the baby."

"Well, I'm sorry I care about our family, Lex," he replies, sounding slightly offended. Jackson can hear his ex-wife sigh softly before speaking.

"I'm sorry," she replies after a moment, clearly contrite and chagrined. "You were right; I'm just tired." Her voice softens. "You know I love you for caring."

"Love you too. Now, let's go," Mark says, taking her right hand in his and supporting her waist with his left. Jackson can clearly see a wedding band on his ring finger, and a matching one on hers, when he manages to avert his eyes. The sight makes him feel dizzy, and Jackson has to reach out and place a hand on the glass in front of him to steady himself. His own words from all those months ago flow through his mind, taunting himself now just as much as he'd taunted her when he'd first voiced them. Is it going to be a glorious reunion? Oh, and when you're finally free of me, is he going to get down on one knee and propose, too?

. . .

"You drove by," Lexie observes quietly, letting her husband know he didn't sneak past without a trace.

Mark shares a half-worried sidelong glance with his wife. "I didn't want to interrupt…"

"You wouldn't have."

Mark's lips reflexively curve upwards at this, knowing that she wasn't ashamed of their relationship—even in front of her ex-husband. "Still," he replies after a moment. "I didn't think it would be wise…"

"I know," Lexie tells him, resting her head on his shoulder and putting a hand on his knee as their car idles in front of the hotel. "And it wouldn't have been. Thank you."

"Of course," Mark whispers, kissing her forehead. They sit in silence for a moment. "You ready to go?"

"Home?" Lexie clarifies as she lifts her head and settles back into her seat. "Yes, definitely."

. . .

"You all right?"

"What?" Jackson turns around, seeing April Kepner watching him with understanding sympathy written all over her features.

"Are you going to be okay after what you just saw?" She asks quietly, her eyes never leaving his face.

"What I just saw…" He trails off, pretending he has no idea what she's talking about.

"Come on," she says, taking his hand. "You can talk to me."

April pulls him by the hand as they walk slowly back towards the lobby, moving at an almost glacial pace. She doesn't speak as they walk along, touring and out of the various curves of the hotel's large conference center and lobby. It's only after they've passed the doors to the conference they're supposed to be at twice, that he speaks.

"She married him," Jackson states, his voice completely flat.

"Yes."

"And she's—having a baby with him."

April nods, and he looks over at her silence. It only takes a second to see through the patience on her face, but when he realizes, he pulls them to a stop.

"You knew."

April taking in his accusatory tone, licking her lips slowly. "I did," she replies reluctantly.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Honestly, Jackson, I…" She sighs, closing her eyes. She had known this would come up, sooner or later, when he inevitable found out… "I really didn't think it was something you wanted to know."

"Well, that's my call, isn't it?" He replies. "Whether or not I want to know something—that's my call."

"Yes. It is." She sighs softly. "I just didn't want to be the one to tell you."

"Well…" Jackson frowns. "Why not?"

"You've heard the expression 'Don't kill the messenger?'" April asks. He nods, watching her and waiting for an explanation. "I didn't want you to be angry at me over… over her."

"I wouldn't have been angry at you," Jackson replies immediately. "And… I'm not angry at her, either."

April raises her eyebrows, but doesn't push it. "Him, then?" She settles on.

Jackson sighs, looking down. He catches sight of their intertwined hands and a smile comes to his lips. "Not really."

"Oh, come on," April replies when his eyes meet hers again. He hears her voice cheer up when she spots the smile on his face. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying," Jackson assures her. "I… Honestly, I'm not mad at anyone anymore. And I don't feel anything anymore—because it doesn't matter anymore."

"It doesn't matter?" April asks skeptically, staring at him in amazement. "Six years doesn't matter anymore?"

Eight years, Jackson thinks, she was with him for eight years. It's eight years that doesn't matter anymore, not six. But he doesn't bother correcting her. And that one small action makes him freeze for a second in realization: I don't even care enough to correct her. What he'd wished for so long to be true finally was: he didn't care, it didn't matter, and he'd moved on. He'd moved on to another place and a better person. She's still lying to me, Jackson remembers thinking just minutes ago. But that thought was only half-true. She's still trying to protect me, he thinks to himself now, from herself. She's lying so she doesn't have to hurt me anymore than she already has. And even though the lie didn't hold up, even though he saw them with his own eyes, Jackson realizes that it wouldn't have made a difference either way. If he knew or didn't know about them—it wouldn't change what his life is now. And, he realizes, it somehow didn't hurt to see them together. It was shocking, it blindsided him… But it didn't hurt.

"No," Jackson answers finally, looking up into April Kepner's disbelieving eyes as he steps towards her. "Six years with her doesn't matter anymore." He tilts his head towards hers, saying five simple words before covering her mouth with his. "Not when I have you."

When he pulls back a minute later, April's smiling up at him. "Conference?" She inquires happily.

Jackson stares at her, cocking his head to the side as if in confusion. "Now, why would I want to go back to a boring conference when I have you right here?"

"I'm sure someone would miss you if you left," April excuses, glancing over her shoulder.

"Hey," he replies, drawing her gaze back to him with a gentle hand on her cheek. "No one's going to miss me. Come on," he tugs on her hand, still clasped inside his, and begins walking towards the elevators. "Let's go upstairs."

"Jackson," April warns quietly a few seconds later as he calls for the elevator. "I don't think this is such a good idea. You just saw her—"

"Yes, and then I spent the next five minutes telling you how much I didn't care about her or what she's doing with her life. I care about my life, which she is no longer a part of." He smiles down at her. "You are. So, come on," he replies, stepping onto the elevator. April looks over at him as she stands on the lobby floor. "You want to be a part of my life or what?" He asks, holding an arm out between them.

April exhales softly, looking to the floor with a smile before meeting his eyes. "Fine," she replies, taking his hand and stepping on the lift just before the doors close. "But don't blame me when people come after you at work for skipping out on the rest of the meeting."

"Blame you?" Jackson replies, hitting the button for their floor. "How could I blame you for anything?"

"You know," April muses as she tilts her head up to his. "That is a very good question. I can't be blamed." She smiles, laughter just behind her lips. "I'm perfect."

Jackson grins down at her, stepping forward again. "You're perfect," he agrees, placing a hand on her waist and drawing her body towards his.

. . .

Lexie breaks the silence softly as they're passing from one darkened street to the next. "Hey, Mark?"

Mark averts his eyes from road for a quick second, stealing a glance at his wife. "Yeah?" He asks tentatively, wondering if they're going to revisit the subject of her ex-husband after minutes of silence following their previous conversation.

"Can I pick her middle name?"

"Sure," he replies, his eyes automatically shifting to her swollen stomach briefly as a small smile takes place on his face. "What did you have in mind?"

"Susan," Lexie replies without missing a beat. "I wanted to name her after my mother."

Mark nods, catching his wife's eye. "She'd like that, I'm sure."

"She would," Lexie agrees softly, lapsing into silence again.

It's not until they're both inside and have undressed and climbed into bed that Lexie voices the other question that had been on her mind the whole drive home. "You… You know I don't regret anything, right?" She whispers softly, staring at her husband as she rests her head on a pillow.

"Hm?" Mark asks, his eyes blinking slowly as they focus on his wife.

"Seeing Jackson tonight," she explains quietly. "You know I've never had second thoughts, right? I've never regretted being with you, ever?"

Mark nods. "I know."

"I just…" Lexie bites her lip. "I didn't want you to worry," she whispers softly. "I didn't want you to think I'd see him and…" She trails off, biting down harder on her lower lip, not even wanting to go into it, but feeling the necessity to assure him. "I didn't want you to think I'd go running back or something."

"Hey," Mark murmurs, tilting his head to look directly into her eyes. "You know I've never thought you would ever do that, don't you? I know how committed you are to me and our baby."

Lexie gives him a small smile, shifting a bit closer towards her husband. "You do?"

Mark nods seriously. "Nothing has ever been more clear to me."

Lexie's smile widens to a grin, and a moment later she takes his hand. She squeezes it briefly before placing it on the crest of her stomach. "A month," she whispers, looking happily into his eyes. "We just have one month left."

Mark smiles, slipping his hand beneath her tank top and caressing the soft skin of her distended belly gently. "Then we'll get to see our little girl," he murmurs. "After all this time, we'll finally get to see her."

Lexie beams, leaning forward to kiss him. "I can't wait," she whispers happily, feeling his mouth curve into a smile against hers. "I really can't."

"Me neither."

. . .

December

. . .

"Mark," Lexie whispers. Her hand grips the kitchen counter, her knuckles going white as she says his name again. Her other hand immediately moves to rest on the crest of her stomach.

"Yeah?" Her husband calls from the couch. "What is it, Lex?"

"Mark, turn—turn off the TV."

"Gimme a sec, Lex. I'm in the middle of—"

"I—" She grits her teeth against the momentary pain. "I have to go to the hospital."

"What?" He half-laughs, turning his head to catch a glimpse of her. "You can't go into surgery—"

"Mark," she whispers urgently, finding his eyes on the other side of the apartment. "Mark, the baby—"

He crosses the room faster than she would have imagined, taking her hand and moving her to the closest chair just a few feet away. He returns a moment later, holding a small duffle bag in one hand and his car keys in the other. "Come on," he whispers, helping her back to her feet and guiding her to the door. "We'll go down to the lobby; you can wait there while I get the car."

. . .

Author's Note: Eek! Baby coming! :) What did you guys think of the chapter? Please leave me a review! I'lltry to update soon :)