Warning: None. Rated T.

A/N: Enjoy this next chapter. Thanks for your reviews.

Chapter 7

Lexie

The shrilling sound of her phone beeping had her groaning. She pushed down her lab coat she had been using as a blanket around her arms and shoulders, and pulled her phone from her pocket and turned off her alarm.

Her night shift had officially been over about three hours ago, and she was due to have the day off for the remainder of today and tomorrow, but she couldn't bring herself to leave the hospital. She had a valid excuse that Mark Sloan was her responsibility as a patient, and her Chief, Owen Hunt, specifically asked her to keep it to only her, Jackson, and Rebecca knowing the extent of who he was and why he was here.

That hadn't been the sole reason for why she hadn't wanted to leave the hospital and go back to her small dingy apartment and enjoy the remainder of her day off.

She shoved her phone back in her pocket, turning onto her back and stared up at the ceiling of the on-call room on the ad hoc floor.

She couldn't fight the truth any longer. She was attracted to her patient. She was attracted to Mark Sloan. It wasn't just the fact that he was physically attractive, with those piercing blue eyes, defined jawline, and muscular physique. It made sense now, considering what he did for a living.

What attracted her—what made her having to keep fighting the urge to go back into his room when she didn't have a reason too—was the feeling of being safe around him. It was crazy to think that, when the whole reason he had been here was because his job had placed him in an unsafe position. That didn't seem to matter to her.

She had never ever reacted to any man like she had with Mark. She tried to tell herself it was because he held a position of power, but that didn't feel right to her either.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that a complete stranger had believed in her more than the people who had claimed to love and care about her most. He had thought her capable, smart, and talented as a doctor without the need to tear her down or question her every move and credentials. She couldn't honestly say she had that in her last twenty-seven years. Belief without any conditions tied to it.

Her mind wandered back to their open conversation when she had gone into his room. He had been honest with her about how tough his work was—not only physically and mentally—but the fears he seemed to carry around with him as well.

She wanted to do something, anything to help with those fears, carry some of the burden, but she could already see from the few encounters she did have with him, that his protective instincts wouldn't allow that to happen.

Then he had to go and make her heart beat faster, her insides turn into a pool of water by telling her in so many words that he saw her just as much as she was seeing him. The unspoken attraction that seemed to keep wanting to push the two of them together, when it shouldn't make sense. When it didn't seem wise for either of them at this point in their lives.

What is wrong with you?

She had never felt this strongly about anything or anyone before. The only reaction she had ever felt this way about before, had been when she wanted to go into surgery. And even then...it wasn't as strong as this feeling towards him.

While her colleagues around her slept around like they changed their scrubs, she had focused more on her academics and being the best that she could be as a doctor. That wasn't to say she didn't have men look at her before, or she hadn't scratched an itch, when she felt she needed something to make her feel good for once. To feel wanted.

She could count on one hand how many boyfriends and sexual partners she has had in her entire lifetime, and it was a big fat goose egg that any of them made her feel a fraction for what she was already starting to feel for her off limit patient.

She pushed herself to a seated position, swinging her legs over the cot. Maybe that was why she was having the feelings she had. Maybe her own mind and body didn't know when to quit. Maybe she was feeling what she was feeling because it was the forbidden fruit. Someone wanting what they knew they couldn't have.

Then she would remember the way his eyes would focus on her, like he had known her his whole life. That he could see what everyone else around her didn't seem to see or want to see. To everyone else, she was feeble Lexie Grey. The woman—no girl—that was too emotional when it came to her cases. The girl that everyone worried would snap and breakdown because they didn't feel she could handle tough situations. The girl that had no confidence in herself or her abilities.

Maybe they were right.

Mostly they were wrong. What she really liked was that Mark already had come to that decision on his own.

She sighed, standing on her feet, putting her arms back through her lab coat, turning back to the mirror on the wall to wipe the smudges under her eyes, and comb her hair out with her fingers. She was working on a total of four hours of sleep in the last thirty-two hours of being on shift, and looked forward to at least taking a shower after her last quick check-in with Mark to ensure he was out of the red zone period—something she had coined—with needing to be monitored more frequently.

Her mood turned sour. She should be happy that she had done an amazing job when it came to his surgery. But it also meant that if he continued to have strong vitals and progressing CT scans like he was having, she would have no reason not to discharge him by tomorrow morning. As it was, Special Agent's Summers and Young were already hounding her about how quickly he could be discharged. It didn't help matters that Jackson hadn't had any concerns or reasons that he felt he should stay.

It wasn't like she would even consider or start something with him anyway. He constantly bore a look of steel, his body rigid when she came around now, afraid that if anyone even suspected anything outside of doctor patient relationship, she would meet her certain demise.

She did one last check of her face, smoothed out her scrubs and coat, and left the on-call room. She needed a cup of coffee, and she was hoping to chat with her sister, before she had to head back to Mark's room.

"Good Morning, Dr. Grey," one of the new interns—she thought was named Jo—greeted, as she passed by.

Lexie nodded, with a pressed smile as she made it to the cafeteria to grab a coffee and a banana. She tried not to let the whispers bother her ever since the rumors started working their way around about the hospital's mystery guest.

"I heard it was that really hot actor, one of the ones that is in those Avengers movie," one of the nurses said.

"Oh, my, god, hopefully it's the one that plays that Thor guy. Do you think she has slept with him yet?" another nurse asked.

The first nurse scoffed. "He's totally married. Besides, she not that pretty to tempt him from his extremely hot wife," she said.

Lexie groaned, paying for her coffee and banana, and walked away from the cafeteria. Once Mark was gone; things would go back to normal, and she would go back to being unnoticed. That was fine with her. It would be better to go back to pretending it didn't bother her than actually having to feel it.

She took a sip of her coffee and started making her way to the ER figuring that would be where she would find her sister. It was time for her to do her final check on Mark, but she needed a minute to collect herself before she walked in his room again. The feeling of wanting to be near him, and wonder what it would be like if there would be contact between them outside of the necessary medically related reasons ate at her.

Meredith. She wanted to find her sister. She didn't want to be alone with her thoughts anymore. She didn't want to have thoughts about Mark Sloan anymore.

Now that she had taken a rather big step in telling her big sister how she had felt about their relationship most of their adult life together, she looked forward to what their conversations could look like in the future.

"Hey, April."

"Hey, Lexie."

"Have you seen Meredith?"

April looked up from the five clipboards she had in her hand, marking in the system which of her patients was sitting in which of the trauma beds.

"I'm sorry, I haven't. She left here about twenty minutes ago. I know the last time I heard her, she said she was going to the supply room to see if there were any more suture kits. Trying to get these interns to stock the ER with what we need, is like pulling teeth," she groaned in frustration.

"Anything I can help you with?"

April smiled. "No, I'm good. I just got five bushy eyed interns all ready to go and be used at my disposal. Besides, you look like you could use a rest too," she said.

"Uh, thanks."

"I'll see you later," April said, turning with her charts and started shouting to each of the interns.

Lexie turned on her heel and started to make her way to the supply closet, hoping maybe she would find her sister there. As much as she wanted to talk to her, she really had to get back to do another check-up. She knew the feds would be waiting to jump her the moment they could for an update.

As she turned the corner to the supply closet the door to the room was shut. Lexie cursed herself, figuring she had probably just missed her. She opened the door anyway just to be sure, yelping as she backed up, her eyes widening.

"Shit," she said her free hand coming up to cover her eyes. "I didn't see anything," she lied, turning and bolting in the other direction.

Lexie could feel the heat climbing up her neck, her face probably red as a tomato. Walking in on nurses and doctors getting busy in the on-call room wasn't an uncommon thing. Something she had done plenty of times before. What was uncommon, was walking in on her sister and Derek "McDreamy" Shepherd getting busy in the supply closet room.

"Lexie wait!"

She didn't stop, cringing at hearing her sister's voice. Thankfully, from what she had seen in the couple of seconds before she covered her eyes, both still had their pants on—mostly—but she would be ok not having to see her sister or Derek with their shirts off and sucking face like their very lives depended on it.

"Hey, wait!" Meredith said, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her to a stop. Lexie turned, looking anywhere but her sister's face. "That wasn't what it looked like," Meredith said.

She finally forced herself to look her sister in the eye and arched her brow. "Really? That's what you are going to go with?"

Meredith shrugged. "Ok, it may have been what it looked like," she admitted.

Lexie looked around before turning back to her sister and leaned in. "What happened to needing to stay away from them. That they are dangerous," she whispered harshly.

Her sister didn't know the truth about Mark and Derek, but that still didn't make her angry that Meredith was giving her one set of rules and she was following her own set of rules.

"It's not like I am going to date or marry him," she said in her defense.

"Meredith, Owen gave me strict orders that no one was supposed to be hanging around my patient or his people. You could get me in serious trouble."

Meredith rolled her eyes. "Please, it's Owen. I can handle him."

She groaned. "It's not just Owen. I told you, this is really an important case, and anyone hanging around that doesn't have a need to know…"

She stopped talking when her sister turned that look on her that told her she had just played her hand a little too much.

"What's going on, Lexie?"

"I told you, I can't tell you," she said.

She didn't want to do anything that would make Mark or Derek look bad in her sister's eyes. She didn't want to scare her away either, but considering how the both of them were constantly worried about their information leaking, and that in return putting any of them in jeopardy…she wanted to prove that she could keep a secret.

"Whatever it is…I can tell it's troubling you. Is them being here putting you at risk?" she asked.

"No, of course not," she lied.

Meredith's eyes narrowed. "Why am I having a hard time believing you?"

"Why am I having a hard time believing that you wouldn't want to see McDreamy outside of this hospital?"

There was a flash in her eyes, that told her she had been exactly right. A slow grin spread across her sister's face. "There's something about him…"

"I know what you mean."

Meredith arched her brow. "You do?"

"No, no, not like that. I am totally not interested in your McDreamy," she clarified.

Meredith snorted. "I was sucking face with him in the supply closet. I don't have any kind of stake on him."

"It was more than sucking face," she said.

"I thought you didn't see anything?"

She tried to hide her expression that she had been caught red handed, but then just laughed. It was nice just laughing and having fun with her sister like they used to have when they were younger. Before their entire lives became about medicine and their mother tried to pit them against each other.

"Changing subjects. I need to go and check on my patient," she announced.

"You mean the patient you're into?"

Lexie gasped, her eyes going wide. "I am not into my patient."

"I can see it in your eyes."

"I can tell you it's not—" her pager beeped, gladly pulling her from this conversation she did not want to have.

She pulled the pager from her pants pocket, reading the screen. She masked her expression, but a pit formed in the bottom of her stomach. She was being paged to Mark's room.

"I have to go," Lexie said suddenly.

"Go and tend to the patient you are clearly attracted too."

She groaned. "I…" she stopped not bothering trying to defend herself. "Oh, and your scrub top, is inside out," Lexie pointed out, before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

Lexie was at Mark's room in seconds, rushing around the corner into the opening of his room fearing the worst. His CT scans had looked good, and even though he had been complaining of a headache, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. All of his vitals were strong, he wasn't experiencing any other symptoms to let her know that she might have forgotten something during the surgery.

She should have been more focused. Not trying to play detective, and instead focusing on the signs. The headache. The fact that every time she was in the room, he was awake instead of trying to sleep, like both is mind and body needed.

Her feet stopped, her chest heaving up and down trying to reclaim her breath. She ground her teeth, her lips protruding out when she stood in the room seeing both Mark and Derek laughing. It should put her at ease, but instead only made her angrier.

"Dr. Grey," Derek greeted.

Her hands were on her hips. "911. I was paged with a 911. Do you two know what a 911-page means?" she asked, her voice coming out severely calm when she felt the exact opposite.

At least Mark had the decency to look apologetic. "I'm sorry, we didn't mean—"

"No, you didn't," she cut Mark off. She let out a long breath, now that she could relax that nothing was seriously wrong with her patient. "I should probably do another exam just to make sure."

Mark nodded. She did what she figured would be her final thorough exam before the one she would do tomorrow to most likely clear him and discharge him from the hospital. Everything checked out like it should. That made her chest constrict.

She took the stethoscope out of her ears and placed them back around her neck. She glanced up at Derek briefly, before avertedly forcing her eyes away from him and back to Mark. He looked at her and then his best friend, before his eyes went back to her.

"So, what was it that you needed me so urgently for?" she asked.

"We need a favor," Derek said.

She risked a peek back over at Mark, whose face betrayed that he was not in fact happy with the idea that she was being asked for a favor.

"What do you need?" she asked.

"We got a drop this morning from our leads. There was chatter that some of the other crime families know that Mark is here. I've assured everyone as best as I can that he is just here for routine purposes, but that doesn't mean the threat of unwanted eyes and ears might not be here and everywhere. I can't take the chance of making the drop to our lead agents in case we got eyes on us," Derek answered.

"What do you need me to get to them?"

Derek reached inside his pocket, holding out a black USB device. "I need you to see this gets to Agent Summers as soon as possible."

She nodded. "Okay. That seems easy enough."

"You need to understand, that even though you are a doctor, anyone that is watching us, will be watching you intently. They know the feds will be wanting to talk with you, which means all the more they will want to tail you and see if they can find anything else out," Mark added.

She met his gaze head on. "I understand. Discretion is key. Make the drop and make sure that no one sees me doing it, or that I don't have contact with any of the agents. Am I right?"

"Right." Derek answered for him when the two of them continued their staring match.

Lexie tore her gaze away from Mark and back to Derek. "When and where for the drop?" she asked.

"Now. Agents Summers and Young will be in the office. You know the one," he reminded her with a grin.

She ran her tongue over her teeth. "Just as thoroughly as you know our supply closet," she rebutted.

Mark looked at her and then at his friend with a scowl. "What is she talking about?"

"Nothing," Derek said.

Lexie crossed her arms over her chest, arching her brow and giving him a shit-eating-grin. "Oh, he didn't tell you?"

"There's nothing to tell," Derek chimed in with a pointed look in her direction.

"Why don't you tell me," Mark said.

"I caught McDreamy over here making out with my sister in the supply closet," she tattled.

Mark turned his disapproving gaze on his friend. "We will talk about this later."

Derek turned back to her, and she figured by his expression, she was going to pay for that little stunt later. It would be worth it if that meant Mark had someone else to focus his worries on then trying to distance her from ensuring he was recovering nicely.

"Anyway, there is going to be a cleaning cart just outside of the room. You are going to stop at the nurse's station, act as if you are updating one of your files or charts or whatever you call them, and as you pass by the office, you will wrap this in a tissue and throw it in the trash. One of our agents will be disguised as a sanitary worker and will make sure the drive gets to Special Agents Summers and Young," he explained.

"Got it."

"Any questions?" Mark asked.

"No," she answered biting back the strangled groan of frustration threating to leave her throat. "I am more than equipped to handle this."

"Here's the drive," Derek said, outstretching his hand to drop it in the palm of her hand. "Keep it concealed in your pocket until you are ready for the drop."

She dropped the plastic USB half the size of her pointer finger inside her pocket. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Mark interjected. "Wait about twenty minutes after the drop and then find a reason to come back in here," he said.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. There was that push-pull feeling she was getting again. The push to want space and not have to come in here, but the pull that left her excited and eased the worriedness that she had an opportunity to come back in here to see him. The hours before she would have no reason not to discharge him were starting to get smaller and smaller.

"Understood," she replied.

She made sure to grab his chart, and gave each one of them one more reassuring smile, before she turned and left the room. There ask was such a small ask, and she had no worries about what it was they were asking her to do. Everything they asked of her, would be something she would do almost every day.

So, why was her heart beating a mile a minute?

She turned away from their room, feeling Mark's gaze specifically on her through the open blinds as she turned right and started walking down the hall towards the conference room—or make shift office Owen had loaned out to them while they were here.

She kept reminding herself that she could do this. Starting with not looking like she wanted to puke, and that she very much had something to hide. She carried Mark's chart against her chest, as she rounded the left corner of the nurses' station that housed the conference room right next door.

She made a point to smile at everyone that passed her, her gaze falling over each person as she wondered if any of the faces, she didn't recognize could be someone that was here to spy on Mark and Derek. What unnerved her; was that any one of them could be crafty enough to blend in, possibly make themselves appear like they worked at the hospital—just like the feds had someone posing as a sanitary worker. She had seen enough movies to know it could be done.

"Hi, Dr. Grey. I thought you were off today?" A nurse she vaguely remembered seeing before, but couldn't pinpoint her name or what department she worked in, asked.

"Uh, no. I am on shift again today," she answered.

"Anything I can help you with? Anything you need?"

Lexie offered a polite smile, but shook her head, placing her chart down on the desk, and pulled her pen from her pocket. "No, I'm good. Just making some notes on my chart."

The nurse walked away, and Lexie focused on her chart. Every few seconds, she would look up and around her surroundings, unable to stop herself. After a few minutes had passed, to where she felt it was believable amount of time to make her notes, she closed her chart and put her pen back in her pocket.

She looked back at the nurse and then remembered her next step.

"As you pass by the office, you will wrap this in a tissue and throw it in the trash," Derek's voice whispered in her head.

Her hand came to her mouth as she faked a sneeze, thanking the nurse when she immediately offered her the tissue sitting on her station. Lexie put her hand in her pocket to wrap the drive within the tissue.

As she passed the office, she made sure to keep her head straight and not look in their direction, even though she could see out of her peripheral vision that they noticed her walking by. As Derek had mentioned, a sanitary cart was just a little way down, off to the side.

She took a deep breath, slowing her pace, her hand holding onto the tissue tightly. As she came towards the cart, the sanitary worker—or disguised FBI agent—smiled as she passed her.

"Hello ma'am" he greeted before turning and going into the room with an empty waste basket.

She smiled, before stopping, bringing the tissue to her nose for one final measure, and then tossed it in the garbage can. It took everything in her to not stop and check that the item was in the trash cart, that she had done what she needed to do successfully, but she kept walking straight without even looking back.

She looked at her watch and now it was time to wait. Twenty minutes before she would have to go back and see Mark.

"How did I do?" she asked when she stepped back into the room a short time later.

Both Mark and Derek were there waiting. Derek's eyes were focused on the phone in his hand. "Perfect. The drop was successful. Now, if you will excuse me, some of us still need to work to maintain our covers," he said, before coming to stop in front of her. "Good job, Little Grey," he said softly.

She arched her brow. "Little Grey?"

He shrugged. "Mark thought of it. Said it made it easier when clarifying which Grey sister we are talking about."

Mark had given her a nickname? It seemed silly and kind of stupid, but something warm shot through her that knowing when she wasn't in the room, they still seemed to talk about her. She didn't get from the way Derek used the nickname that it was demeaning or a way to make fun of her or insult her. There was an amusement in his eyes when he whispered this tidbit to her.

Derek straightened, and walked out of the room, her eyes watching his retreating form, before she turned back to realize that she was now alone in the room with Mark, and he was studying her intently. Him looking at her made her want to sway on her feet as if she was locked in the magnetic pull towards him.

She needed to stop thinking about him like anything other than her patient. That was all that he was…her patient. Tomorrow morning, she would discharge him, and he would go on his merry way, and she would never see him again.

She tried to hide the disappointment that was bubbling up inside of her at that notion. She did her best to crush that feeling back down.

This man was dangerously gorgeous; and extremely a bad bad road for Lexie to go down. There were dangerous men that always seemed that big bulky muscles were the way to handle a situation. This man; he was a Bentley, and she was sure that he would be able to finesse his way through anything without needing to shed a whole lot of blood. At least she hoped that was the case.

Because Mark Sloan, would bring nothing but chaos to her small protected bubble of a world. She didn't need chaos. She didn't need his sound logic and brooding anger he seemed to have anytime she walked into the room or did anything that would require her to be around him. So, she needed to do the only thing she could—she should do—push him away.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he replied. "I guess that means by tomorrow you will be able to discharge me, won't you?"

She nodded, plastering on a sad smile. "Yes."

"Then that means you will finally be free of me and the dangers that follows us around."

There was that disappointment coursing through her again. "You weren't so bad. Actually, you mobsters aren't as tough as you claim," she teased.

He laughed. "Glad I need to know to up my game."

She looked away, her left arm rubbing her right arm absentmindedly. "When you leave…are you going to be, um, safe?"

"No one in my world is ever really safe," he reminded.

That thought did nothing to sober her worry that even though she might not ever see him again, that she could at least know that he would be ok. She never again wanted to relive the memory of his anguished face, the way his body was so bloodied and beaten—even though a lot of it still remained, just hidden under his medical gown—had looked when she first laid eyes on him.

It would be weeks before the bruises on his body would fade and eventually no longer remind him of what had happened, and she was sure that when they did, he would no longer remember the time he had spent here with her.

"You did good today. Thank you for your help with the drop," he clarified.

"You're welcome. I hope it helped."

He nodded, his thighs tensing under the blanket. She could only imagine how hard it must be for a man always on the go to be forced to be stationary for so long. He looked as if he was itching to want to get out of here while she was reluctant to want to have to let him go.

"It did."

She met his eyes again. She knew she shouldn't ask her next question, but she just had to know. "Will…will more of those man's men be waiting for you when you leave? To try and…and…" she couldn't finish the sentence.

He looked up to her sadly. "It's possible. His more loyal followers are no longer a threat," he said evasively.

She could read between the lines. She didn't know the extent of how he was saved from the torture he endured. She just knew that Derek had been there. At the end of the day, these were mobsters, and Mark was one of the FBI's own. She should feel sad that there was a group of men that probably lost their lives, but knowing their deaths meant that he continued to live made her not feel so guilty about that thought.

She felt like there was a fracture slowing breaking further apart in her soul. It's time to turn around and walk out the door. Walk out of the life of Mark "The Protector" Sloan.

"I'm glad they will no longer be an immediate danger to you," she said shifting on her feet. "I need to go and work on some paperwork. The nurse will be by if you need anything, and then I will see you tomorrow for a final check before I discharge you out," she explained.

His eyes met hers and she could understand the silent message he seemed to be saying to her.

This is your life. Out there is mine.

"Thank you for everything you have done, Dr. Grey."

Dr. Grey. Ask me to stay.

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Sloan."

She turned to leave the room, but his calling her name made her turn back. "Before you go, I just have to ask you one question."

"Alright."

She tried not to seem hopeful that maybe that question would be to ask her to stay just a little longer. For whatever this was not to end just yet.

"You call Derek "McDreamy". We had a bet if you or Big Grey had a nickname for me."

She licked her lips, the flush returning to her cheeks. "We did."

He looked at her expectantly with a beguiling smile. "Would you tell me what it is?"

She gave him a decisive nod. "McSteamy. We called you McSteamy," she answered, before walking out of his room.

A/N: Don't forget...Q&A is available in reviews. :)