A/N: I lifted a scene (and the song playing in the background for the title) directly from one of the best Mark/Addison scenes on Private Practice to ever grace our televisions. YOU KNOW THE ONE.
Chapter 30. Let's Take a Walk
The rocking chair sways gently as Addison rocks Kate to sleep. From the small opening in the doorway, Mark can see that their daughter has a tiny hand splayed on her mother's chest, unknowingly positioned close to her heart. Addison's mouth is forming the words of a lullaby, but he is too far away to discern what it is. Above them, an entire galaxy shimmers and dances. Addison recently purchased a projector night light for Kate's room, which they have been turning on before bedtime and then turning off once their daughter is deep in a milk-induced slumber. Kate absolutely loves the ceiling display (admittedly, the science nerds in Mark and Addison do too), and it holds her attention, but Mark knows that her hazy blue eyes always drift back to her mother right before she falls asleep for the night.
Normally bedtime is handled as a team, but it is Wednesday the fifteenth, and tomorrow will be Addison's first day back at work. Mark briefly poked his head in to Kate's room – both redheads were way too entranced in the stars shining down on them and whatever song Addison was softly singing to Kate to notice him – but he thought it best not to interrupt this moment. He knows Addison needs this alone time with Kate.
"What were you singing to her?" He asks curiously about an hour later when Addison climbs into bed (he knows it probably only took their daughter about twenty minutes to hit a deep sleep), clothed in a pair of satin pajama shorts and a Yankees shirt of his. It's the one she wore when she first spent the night with him a little more than a year ago, and it has remained a favorite of hers, especially because the unusually soft fabric (too many washes) always helps a bit on the nights she needs extra comfort.
"It was a Beatles evening," Addison informs him. "'Here Comes the Sun' and 'Let It Be.' I started out with 'Here, There and Everywhere,' but I couldn't get past the halfway point because…" her lower lip quivers and she starts to cry, attempting to gasp out the line in the song that made her heart fill with dread and sadness. Mark hugs her, stroking her hair as she pushes through a drop tower succession of sobs in order to tell him. "Because…to love her is to need her."
He sighs in sympathy. "It's gonna get easier, Addison. I know you're probably really, really sick of hearing that from me and the words probably sound empty at this point, but -"
"No, it's okay," she interrupts. Yes, Mark has said it a lot, and yes, the words feel devoid of actual meaning now, but it doesn't change the fact that he has been trying so, so hard to be supportive; this means a lot to her. Addison's fingers pleat gently against his chest in reassurance. "You're just trying to help me. I'm sorry I'm not able to be stronger about this. I always knew that one day when I became a mom I would be sad to go back to work, but I honestly never thought it would hurt this much."
He brushes his lips to her hairline, soothingly. "You are strong, honey. The Incredible Hulk-level strong. It's not a sign of weakness that you're going to miss the hell out of your kid."
Addison nods numbly, and snuggles as close to him as she physically can. "I'm glad I'm starting with a short week. And no matter how empty it sounds, you're probably going to just have to keep telling me that it's going to get easier and that everything will be okay. And that the sadness won't last forever."
"I will," he promises. "Now try to get some sleep."
She does not sleep particularly well that night, even though they have reached the point where, with occasional exceptions when sleep regression was rearing its ugly head at the beginning of the month, Kate can sleep for six to seven hour stretches when they put her down for the night. Addison wakes up before the sunrise is fully painted above the nearby buildings. She turns towards her alarm clock, making her time prediction in her head first, but how close or far she is from the correct time cannot really be determined because a yellow Post-it is stuck to the clock's face and is obscuring the red numbers. She scoots to the edge of the bed, pulling Mark's note off the clock. She realizes that even though she was restless throughout the night, he clearly managed to accomplish this task at some point while she was in between periods of awareness.
Question: Name five reasons why I know you are going to (eventually) be okay and that you won't be sad forever.
1. Ass-kicking and name-taking are on your resume. If anyone can be a successful working mom, it's you.
2. Kate loves you. This won't change. There are a hundred shooting stars above her head when she's falling asleep, but you're all she really wants.
3. Your job is important. Maybe one of the babies you save will end up being a future friend of Kate's? (I'm aware it's a big city, but you never know, so just roll this with one)
4. Lauren is great. Remember that she's just one more person in Kate's life who will care about her and keep her safe. That's a good thing.
5. I love you and I'm here for anything you need.
Addison smiles a teary smile and sets the note down for now. She thinks that it will fit perfectly in the pocket of her scrub top. She plans to string her engagement ring onto a necklace before she is scheduled to operate, so it only makes sense that she would also keep something like this close to her heart.
"I'm probably going to cry, just so you know," Addison says to Lauren, grinning a warning. She has Kate balanced on a hip, lightly swiveling as she gives the nanny some last minute instructions and shows her the weekly schedule again (she prides herself on it being organized and having some structure, but it's definitely flexible and doesn't reek too strongly of Control Freak). Addison angles her head away when Kate reaches for one of her pearl drop earrings. Her hair is gathered in a sleek ponytail, which puts an end to Kate's reaching for that at the moment (a new habit that is kind of cute, but can also be painful at times), but her daughter tries again because Kate Sloan is no quitter. The earrings are the focus now.
To her credit, Lauren nods and asks all the right questions, even though she has already watched Kate at various points in the past two weeks in order to help make the transition a bit easier (more for mom in this case than baby, as Kate has seemed pretty at ease with her new companion so far). Also, nothing on the schedule is new information; Lauren knows when Baby Story Time is at the local library as easily as she knows how many diapers Kate typically goes through in a day, that Kate thinks it's funny when people stick their tongues out at her, and that she releases a particularly high-pitched squeal when watching the ducks bob their heads and fluff their wings at The Pond in Central Park.
"It's okay," Lauren assures her. "Just as long as you're cool with the fact that I'm probably going to cry a little too then. I tend to tear up when I see other adults cry."
Mark offers a smile at this kind admission. "Well, you two are going to get along just fine."
Lauren ignores him to continue speaking with Addison, and if the couple didn't already think their nanny would fit right in with their little family, this just confirms it. "I'll send tons of pictures and updates. And you'll come home this afternoon and she'll be so happy to see you. Both of you."
"And today is the library around lunchtime, but then tomorrow you'll bring her by the cafeteria for lunch with us," Addison says, though it sounds more like a question than a statement.
"I will," Lauren confirms. "And, Addison? My mom retired last year, but she was a teacher for years. And when I was little, I was always so proud to tell people what her job was. It's going to be the same with Kate one day. She'll be able to tell people that her mom is a world-class surgeon. You're going to work to make the world a better place for your kid and you're teaching her that she can be anything she wants to be when she grows up. Try to remember that when it's hard."
"Thank you, Lauren," Addison smiles as her eyes fill with tears. She is able to blink them away though, at least for now. She forces herself to hold onto this reminder, as well as her Post-it note.
"She's a kick ass nanny," Mark says when they step into the elevator to head down to the apartment lobby. He loops an arm protectively over her shoulders. "She's like the Doctor Addison Montgomery of nannies."
"She's a kick ass nanny," Addison repeats. "So…you were in the elevator when you cried your two graceful tears about going back to work for the first time, right? Where were you standing?"
He nudges her hip, getting her to move a little to the right. "Here, I think," he determines, managing a weak grin.
"Okay," she whispers, closing her eyes. She tries to settle herself in this moment with a pep talk. "If you can do it, I can do it too. You're okay now. And I'm going to be okay."
Mark nods, giving a light tug on her ponytail. "You're going to be okay."
"And I'm strong and I'm magic."
"Yeah. You're strong and you're magic."
"Hey," Mark pops his head into her office around noon. Her arms are loosely crossed and she's leaning back against a dark beige couch cushion with a tired, forlorn look etched over her face. She looks wound up. "Did you have lunch yet?"
She glances over at him. "I am in fact taking a long lunch with the chief's blessing, but no, I haven't yet. Just green juice. Oh, and pumping. But mostly green juice."
"I can't believe you like that stuff," Mark says as he shuts the door behind him. "Actually, I guess my main issue is that I can't believe how much you like it. Anyway. How are you holding up, Addie?"
"Good," she manages a feeble smile when he joins her on the loveseat. "You would have thought I was gone for a year or returning from a special ops mission with how excited the nurses and doctors were to see me. I've had consults all morning, so being busy has helped. Pictures and texts from Lauren have helped too. Kate's getting pretty good at flipping from tummy to back. And then I'm scheduled to scrub in for a procedure at one-thirty. I'm really excited to finally get back in the OR. Like, my fingers are basically itching to hold a scalpel instead of a rattle or a diaper cream brush. So I'm surviving. But right now it's lunchtime and there's nothing to distract me. It just sucks, being apart from Kate. And I know it will get easier, but right now it just…sucks. I'm sad. And all I have is stupid green juice."
"Which should probably be making you sadder."
She shrugs. "I called Naomi the other day to catch up. She had Maya during our Residency. It was tough going back to work, but she said – just like you and everyone else has said – that it gets better. And now Maya's eleven. Naomi got through it. But, you know, Nai…she eats. She puts food on top of it, and that numbs the pain, the malaise, the…the…the sad. I mean, she puts food on top of it, and she feels good. But I…I don't. I have green juice…"
Please God stop with the fucking green juice, Mark thinks. Another thought occurs to him immediately after that though and his eyebrows prop up. He has a good idea. A really good idea. Addison is too stuck on her non-helpful juice thoughts to initially notice when he stands up and heads to the door.
"I mean, that's all I really like. And green juice, I can't really put that on top of the sadness from missing my baby. I want to put something on top of it, but I don't have anything…" her voice climbs up in frustration when she observes Mark experimentally playing with the lock on her office door. Her tendons pulse in her neck and she raises a hand and whacks it against the cushion, pouting childishly. "Mark, what are you doing? I'm telling you how I feel. I'm trying to do the grownup thing, the Vermont thing."
"And I hear you," Mark turns around to face her. He has a look about him, a plotting look, that Addison has only just noticed now. His fingers curl around the neckline of his shirt, tugging. "Numb the pain."
"What -?" she tries to state, mouth rounded in confusion when he takes his shirt off.
"Numb the sad. Feel good. Put something on top of it," he adds, tossing his shirt aside.
"Mark, I said put something on top of it, not put you on top of me."
"We've got a little over an hour to get something on top of you to try to make you feel less sad, Addison," he says. The sounds feel amplified in her small, quiet office. The shoes hitting the floor, the clink of his belt buckle being undone and the strap yanking through the loops. The pants come next, leaving her fiancé standing in front of her in just a pair of black boxer briefs. "Me or green juice. And you already said green juice can't go on top of the sadness. Now…do you want to feel better, or don't you?"
And then the boxer briefs are down. Now it's a completely naked fiancé, who, from the looks of it – because Addison's gaze started moving down as soon as the briefs started moving down – is somehow nearly ready to go. New York, Connecticut, Vermont, the moon, Winterfell, an Antarctica research station – wherever she is trying to be physically present or otherwise, she knows she should probably be embarrassed for staring at Mark's sexual anatomy with such hunger and lust. Except, she contemplates, it was a pretty ballsy move (an unintentional pun that she immediately hates, but knows he would love) on Mark's part to get undressed in her office without warning and just assume she would want to numb the sadness with sex.
But he does know her well.
Addison gets to her feet, desire flooding in her eyes as she presses her mouth to his, the kiss insistent and needy.
Mark's fingers make quick work of her dress, guiding the zipper on the back of the sheath silhouette down in one easy, purring stroke. He starts tugging the garment up over Addison's hips at the same time she's hooking a leg around his waist. They're exceptionally good at this now, able to anticipate each other's moves and desires, and Mark easily lifts her into his arms, encouraging her to lock both legs around him. This move feels a bit pointless because it just takes two steps for them to collapse onto the loveseat, but the result is a gasping Addison underneath him, one hand lazily knotted in his hair as they kiss, so there's really nothing to complain about.
"Oh…" she exhales when Mark abandons her lips to suck on her neck. She flexes underneath him, drawing her right leg in the air, acrobatically-high, and a pointed toe pump shades the dimmed light from a table lamp. "Yes."
Mark makes a noise of agreement against the soft slope of her neck, tongue almost tickling her skin as he snakes a hand between her legs, moving the thin barrier of lace aside. He slips two fingers inside her, taking his time caressing her before his thumb moves exactly where she needs it, first light and teasing, then in more purposeful circles when her back starts to arch and her breathing quickens. It does not take long for her to tighten around him and cry out.
"Floor," Addison says when he brings his mouth back to capture hers, chest still heaving from the tension he has managed to ease. Her eyes are heavy-lidded and her skin is flushed. Mark can feel her heat sticky and slick between his fingers and she's not really helping his desire to relocate given how she is rolling her hips beneath him, but he concedes because it is a narrow loveseat, and they are long-legged, tall people, after all.
The floor works out just great.
They are a bit of a mess afterwards. A breathless, happy mess though as they lie on the floor, sweaty and sated. Three long legs are stretched out to hang on the edge of the loveseat, and the straggler – one of Addison's, the same one that was somehow nearly above his shoulder when he was guiding her towards her first (of several) climax – is bowed over Mark's legs in such a way that he probably needs to tell her that whatever she is doing at Mommy and Me Yoga is doing wonders for her flexibility, and she wasn't exactly a slouch in that category to begin with.
Flexibility notwithstanding, what Mark is most pleased about at the moment is that he had the good sense to lock the door and to keep his fingers on the lock a little longer than necessary just to be extra sure that the door was extra locked, a necessary precaution given how they are both – her more than him though – basically presenting non-professional parts of themselves towards the door. He slides his hand lazily up and down Addison's left thigh, still twitching a bit. His fingers are soft and soothing over her damp skin as they breathe heavily.
"Oh, my God. I…" she draws out a soft, wheeze-filled laugh. "I can't catch my breath."
Mark is having a bit of a difficult time himself with oxygen and carbon dioxide, but nothing about her reaction is particularly surprising. When Addison thought they were done (surprise, they weren't), and was thoroughly convinced she couldn't possibly come again (at least not anytime soon), he kissed his way down her stomach and buried his face between her thighs – again. And she decided this is probably the best thing she's ever been completely and utterly wrong about. She lost track of how many times and what this afternoon's number is. (If the totals actually mattered to Addison, she could ask. Mark may love her in a very sweet, enduring way she could have never anticipated this time last year, but he is also Mark through and through. He is typically pleased with himself and his abilities, and pretty much tracks sexual performance outcomes as closely as he tracks Yankees offensive stats.)
"Are you feeling a little less sad?" Mark asks when the air is no longer swarming with their winded pants. He spies the second argyle throw pillow on the loveseat and feels vaguely disappointed that it's not close enough for him to reach; the floor is not exactly comfortable. The pillow's twin is currently cradled behind Addison's head. It was luckily accessible to her earlier when Mark's tongue was pressed flat against her nerve endings and two fingers were curling inside her, so she took the opportunity to clamp the pillow over her mouth to swallow her moans when she clenched around his fingers and spasms started to roll through her.
"Yes, actually," she nods, and then something else occurs to her and she starts to giggle. "Mark, how did you…? The zipper thing."
"The zipper thing?" He asks, unclear.
"You're like a sex ninja. How does a person manage to get a zipper down so smoothly and quickly with one hand? It's unreal."
Mark chuckles and leans over to kiss her on the temple. "Skill, I guess. Kind of like you with your flexibility. Not complaining, but I don't think legs are meant to bend in the way you manage to make yours bend. But hey, anytime you need to feel a little less sad when you're away from your kid and a hug or a Post-it won't cut it, just let me know and I'll be sure to lock the door behind us. And put my sex ninja zipper skills to the test."
"I almost passed out at one point," she smiles blushingly. "I…I don't even think I remember my kid's name right now. And when we were at the end, I'm pretty sure I forgot we even have a kid."
"You and me both, Red."