Warning: Rated T for strong language.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I enjoy the range of reviews and your comments. You guys are the best!

Chapter 6 – Let's Make a Deal

Mark

It only took a couple of hours, but the surgery with Senator James Whittman was successfully completed. Derek and I were pleased, and had no concerns that James would make a full recovery.

As I predicted, Lexie did great in the surgery. She didn't let her hurt wrist and tender palms slow her down, ever attentive and asking the right questions. If I had to admit, all of the residents and interns heeded our warning about being on their best "A" game when it came to working his case.

I caught up with just the person I wanted to see. "Callie."

She turned from the surgery board to look at me. "How did your important surgery go?"

I grinned. "It went well. Did you expect anything else?"

She shook her head. "You see…that was the cockiness I needed a couple of days ago when I came to you with my problem," she replied lowering her voice.

I racked my brain back to our last conversation and realized she was talking about the fact that she was having trouble pleasing her—well I don't know what they are—partner in Erica Hahn.

"Do you still need help?" I asked.

Callie looked at me, and I could see she was still struggling inside with whatever was going on between her and Erica.

She let out a sigh. "I think I am ok for now. We had a long talk about it. It's kind of new to both of us…so we are learning as we go."

I wiggled my eyebrows. "Fine. But if you would rather skip all the basics and get right down to the Mark Sloan method that will have you known as an expert…you just let me know."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied. "I doubt that was what you came to talk to me about. So, what's on your mind?"

"What makes you think something is on my mind?"

She smiled. "Because you have this rather serious and determined look on your face, and you rarely—if ever—have that look on your face. Unless, you are trying to sort out a new strategy on getting one of the nurses to sleep with you. So, who do you need me to help you get?"

I frowned. Was I really that bad? Was that all people thought was on my mind? Not just people…but my best friend? I liked sex. Probably as much as the next—if not more—but that didn't mean that was the only thing I ever thought about. I was an accomplished surgeon after all. Just because I didn't publish study after study like Derek, didn't mean I wasn't just as talented or good as the others.

"I am not here for that," I clarified. "And for the record, I don't need any help closing any deals."

She laughed. "Ok. Sorry," she said putting her hands up defensively. "What did you want to talk about?"

"It's actually about one of the interns."

Callie arched her brow up. "You are taking an interest in an intern?" she paused. "Is this one you want to sleep with?"

"No," I lied. "Why is it so hard to believe that I want to make sure any talented interns succeed?"

She scoffed. "Because your Mark Sloan, and you hate interns," she said automatically.

"You know, Torres, you wound me greatly."

"Alright. I'm sorry. I'll be serous now. Who's the intern?"

"Dr. Grey."

"Little Grey?"

I nodded. "I just wanted your opinion when she was on your service."

Callie's head tilted upwards as she thought. "Well, to be honest, I can't offer you much. I only had her one or two times on my service and both weren't that complicated of cases. She seemed great with the patients and knowledgeable about her medical diagnosis." she paused. "Why, have you had any problems?"

"No. In fact, I have come to the same consensus as you. She just seems a little distracted lately. I was just wondering if you had heard anything. You seem a little closer to the residents and interns then I am."

She laughed. "You mean, I don't come across all scary and actually show an interest in their well-being and teaching."

I shot her a sarcastic glare. "Funny."

"I'm sure it's just nerves starting out her intern year. We all had our days," Callie suggested.

I didn't believe it. I wouldn't go around telling them that a big haunch of mine came directly from my patient Mr. Jensen and his physic capabilities. I would get laughed at around these halls faster than the dermatology wing. But there was something there…I knew it. Something she was hiding. Whatever it was she was either scared or attempting to handle it on her own. If it was the fact that she was scared…it made me all the more wanting to get down to the bottom of what she was hiding.

"I hope your right, Torres. I hope your right."

Lexie

My day was looking up. After the awful night I had with my dad, I was worried whether I would even been able to function…but Senator Whittman's surgery was a success, and I had played a part—even a small one—in ensuring his surgery was a success.

I had worried that as soon as Mark had taken notice of my wrist that I was caught. He had this uncanny ability to seem to know that something was off, and his incessant need to know what was going on, was getting harder to ignore.

It was more his hot and coldness when it came to being my friend that had me feeling like I was some sort of ping pong ball going back and forth in a match. He had mentioned on the first day that he was going to be tough on me because he saw the potential in me being a great doctor, but then when he would do these little things like talking to me at the bar, or pulling me into a room to just simply check on me…it did funny things deep inside.

Mark Sloan is not a relationship guy. Mark Sloan is my boss.

Mark Sloan is off limits.

It didn't stop my stupid brain or even my chest for thinking these thoughts anyway. The gentle way he touched my wrist as he inspected it, and then rewrapped it to give it the proper pressure. I tried the best I could manage, but I saw the little quirk to his lip that he was not happy with how I originally attended to it.

I had almost broken down and told him. If it had not been for the fact that we were operating on Senator Whittman within a couple of hours, I was close to finally letting someone in and tell them what was going on. I never would have thought that Mark Sloan would have been the person I would have considered to want to tell…but he was rapidly growing as the one person I kept wanting to seek out.

That was dangerous.

The lack of sleep and emotional rollercoaster I had been on lately with my father was catching up with me. I still had a few hours left in my shift, but I picked up my steps headed off to my next task. I was discharging Mr. Jensen.

"Hi, Mr. Jensen," I said once I entered in the room.

He looked up from his bed and smiled. "Dr. Grey. Always lovely to see you," he replied.

"I've got good news for you. Your vitals are great, bloodwork has been on point, and you seem to be doing well with your medications, so we are happy to discharge you."

He tapped his head and winked. "I know. Already ahead of you."

I was about to argue that couldn't possibly be true, but then I noticed his bag was already fully packed on the chair of his room. As I looked back to him, I also noticed he was sitting up in his bed already dressed in his regular clothes instead of his medical gown.

I sighed. "It appears you do."

Instead of laughing or coming back with some other quip, his demeanor suddenly changed to one of a more somber look. My wrist was covered, but I instantly saw his gaze travel down towards my arm anyway as if he could see right through my lab coat.

"I see you are no longer just surrounded by the darkness, but you jumped two feet in," he observed.

I did my best to remain detached from his words even though I was pretty certain that Mr. Jensen was proving to be the real deal. "I don't know what you are talking about," I lied.

His lips pursed into a thin line. "Come now, Lexie. These are dangerous times for you," he said.

I wanted to tell him to mind his own business and leave me alone, but it was hard to be mad at Mr. Jensen. It was even harder to say anything when Mr. Jensen was looking at me with a fatherly concern—like my own dad should have—seemingly genuinely concerned with whatever messages he was receiving.

"I'm ok, Mr. Jensen. I am handling it."

He shook his head. "You need a friend. You need someone to talk too. You need help," he said softly.

I offered him a flat smile, wanting to hurry and get out of this room as quickly as I could. As it was, I was feeling extremely exposed. "If anyone is going to help anyone, that would be me. After all, I am the doctor here."

He lifted his arm, so I could start removing his IV and other wires from him as I came closer to his bed.

"Precisely why you need a friend. You have this will inside of you. This fire that makes you believe that no matter what you will prevail."

"Are you saying I am not strong enough to handle anything?"

He shook his head, but his face remained serious. "I'm saying that even the most skilled fire tamer cannot battle a blaze on their own."

"Are you always this cryptic and Yoda like?" I asked.

Despite his rather serious demeanor he gave me a slight grin. "I have an obligation with my gift to relay the message as they come."

I stared at him. "Oh, yeah. And who would want to give me this message?"

"Susan," he said matter-of-factly.

My hands stilled. "That's not funny."

The corners of his lips turned downwards. "I never said it was," he said sadly. He met my eyes again. "Your mother said she doesn't want you to do this on your own. She said you have people that care about you. Trust your instincts."

"My sister?" I clarified.

He shrugged. "I'm sorry, she's left me. I don't have anything else to offer you."

Figures. I schooled my expression as I finished removing the last of his wires and handed him over his discharge paperwork. While I really like Mr. Jensen, I wasn't so sad to be leaving his freaky abilities behind. I'm not sure that I wanted anymore messages from beyond the grave, no matter who they might come from.

My stomach twisted into knots when I got the page that I was to head to Chief Hunt's office immediately. I wasn't sure what I could have possibly done to have been called to the Chief's office. Did Mark sell me out and go and tell the Chief that I had been injured?

As I reached his office on the opposite side of the hospital, I took a minute to collect myself and my thoughts, smooth out my scrubs and knock on the back of the door.

"Come in!"

As I stepped into the room, I was surprised to see both of my attending in the room standing opposite of Owen. Derek and Mark were standing next to each other. Derek looked as if he was conflicted, Owen seemed to be internally determining how he was going to deliver whatever news he was going to have to tell me…and then there was Mark. Mark was standing next to Derek, his arms folded securely across his chest with a permanent scowl etched in his features. He did not look at happy at all. I didn't know if that scowl was directly aimed at me, or directed at whatever the reason I was being called to the office.

"Shut the door, please, Dr. Grey," said Owen.

This couldn't be good.

I shut the door as he requested, and stood in the room, my gaze traveling to all three pairs of eyes in the room.

"You asked to see me?" I pointed out.

"Yes, thank you," Owen replied.

It wasn't like he needed to thank me. He was my chief and he needed to see me.

"We need to talk to you about Senator Whittman," said Owen.

My eyes again traveled around the room again, this time settling on Mark. He still was angry and sported a scowl, but something in his eyes told me that whatever I was being called her for was not because I was in any specific sort of trouble.

"Is something wrong with Mr. Whittman?" I asked.

Mark sneered. "You could say that."

Owen looked over at Mark. "Dr. Sloan," he warned.

Owen let out an exasperated breath. "It seems that Senator Whittman has taken a liking to you."

I was having a hard time trying to follow or understand what was happening here. "I'm sorry a liking to me?"

Derek turned; and this time spoke up. "I think what Chief Hunt is trying to say, is that Senator Whittman was highly impressed with you and therefore has asked Chief Hunt if you would be willingly to accompany him to his gala event tomorrow."

I shook my head in disbelief. "But why me?" I said my tone laced with confusion.

"Because Senator Whittman thinks the advantage of taking a doctor could be a win-win for the hospital," answered Owen.

Mark uncrossed his arms. "He wants someone that can be charming as a date and help increase his funds for his campaign. As a reward for us, he will talk about Seattle Grace and our program for additional funds that could greatly help the hospital out," he said snidely.

Owen's voice again rose as a reprimand. "Dr. Sloan."

Mark's eyes narrowed. "Let's not beat around the bush. He wants to use one of our doctors to try and get himself ahead of his opponents," he spat.

"It could be a great opportunity for us," Derek observed.

Mark's expression looked horrified. "You think it's ok to pimp out our doctors to get some money?"

"Now wait a minute, no one is talking about or condoning pimping out doctors," Owen rebutted.

"That's exactly what you are doing!" Mark yelled.

The three of them again started into a back and forth yelling match as if I wasn't even in the room. I risked a glance back in Mark's direction and his anger was simmering to the surface as he kept glancing between the two of them.

"She's not some hired concubine," Mark snapped.

"If we can get these kind of resources…" said Owen.

"Who said concubine? These resources…" trailed off Derek.

A loud whistle broke through the room, everyone going silent at once. The loud whistle had come from me. I removed my two fingers from my mouth, waiting until three sets of eyes were focused on me.

"I would appreciate that as the person of this very discussion, if I was able to get a word in wise," I said calmly.

Mark still looked grumpy, Derek nodded in agreement, and Owen still seemed a bit unsure also relented and turned to me. I turned to Chief Owen since he was the most senior in the room, and regardless of what Mark or Derek thought, would be the one that would have the final decision.

I let out a breath. "So, if I am understanding you correctly, Senator Whittman has asked me to accompany him to an upcoming gala?"

"Right," confirmed Owen.

"When?" I asked.

"You can't be serious in entertaining this," chided Mark.

I ignored him when Owen answered that the gala was scheduled for the following evening. It was surprising, since that was barely two days of recovery time from his surgery, but as Mark and Derek had told us early on, James Whittman felt that missing any opportunity where he could smile for the camera and charm his constituents was not going to be missed.

"So, if I go with him to this party, I could be in front of potential donors for this hospital, that if so inclined…could be interested in donating money to continue funding our special interests?"

"Also correct," Derek replied.

"That doesn't seem so bad," I said simply.

Derek and Owen seemed to visibly relax, but Mark's face transformed into something that was hard to decipher. It was as if he was mad that I was not just thinking about entertaining it, but actually wanting to do it, and something else. Was he scared? But why?

"Dr. Grey, I want you to know that you are not forced to have to do anything you don't want to do," Owen said, his voice turning seriously.

"Oh, sure, you only say that after she seems to be agreeing with what you two want," Mark muttered.

"Mark!" Derek uttered in a reproachful tone.

"I understand," I said. "It would not be a problem on my end to accompany Senator Whittman. If it means we can bring to light the wonderful things we do at Seattle Grace as well as get additional funding, then I think it's a win-win."

Owen seemed to visibly relax at how confident I sounded. Derek seemed to approve of my reasoning, and if I daresay seemed impressed by my logic. The only one in the room that did not seem happy or even remotely ok with the idea was Mark, but he didn't say another word.

Why was he acting this way? Was he worried I would screw it up somehow?

I looked at this as a perfect opportunity for myself. I was still in my first few weeks as an intern. Not only was I seeming to make a great impression with my patients, but if I was able to do something that could score a big return—what was the harm in that? If everyone was going to win in this deal, then it seemed more like a perfectly crafted business deal.

I was no longer needed in the room both Mark and Derek filing out behind us.

"Um, Dr. Sloan…do you have a minute I can speak with you regarding a case?" I asked.

It was a lie, but it wasn't exactly a conversation I wanted to have with Derek standing around us. Derek gave me another approving nod and then took off back down the hallway. Mark and I were standing in the walkway of the center of the hospital between Owen's office and where all the real magic happened in the hospital.

He turned to me, his arms across his chest waiting for me to speak. "I take it you may not be happy that I am choosing to do this," I said.

"I'm not," he answered truthfully.

"Because you suddenly have a moral compass about thoughts that I could be pimped out?"

"Moral compass?" He repeated his tone, confused, offended, even angry a little bit.

I nodded. "Of all the people that I thought would be open to this...it would be you."

His eyebrows met in a stern line over his stormy eyes. "And why is that?"

"Well, you do have a reputation for using woman just for sex. Why wouldn't you be ok with Senator Whittman wanting to use us to his advantage?"

His jaw twitched. He was back to being visibly angry. I didn't know why I was even saying what I was saying. Maybe it was because Owen and Derek seemed to have faith in me that I could do this. Senator Whittman even thought I was classy and pretty enough to want to drape me on his arm to help his funding, but my own attending, my boss, maybe even my friend—seemed to think I wasn't capable.

Because meek and mild Lexie Grey was always the one that no body watched out for for anything. Jackson Avery, he was an Avery and came with a powerful name that not only made people like him, but want to be him. Jo was consistently resourceful and seemed to survive no matter what situation she found herself in. April, stuck to her convictions no matter what anyone said about her and grew up on a farm. She understood hard work and sacrifice.

I bet if it was Meredith that Senator Whittman wanted to take to the gala, neither Mark or even Derek—whom she was actually dating—would have a problem with her being able to represent the hospital and ensure she brought in the cash flow.

So, why did everyone undermine me? Why did everyone think that poor Lexie Grey wouldn't be able to survive one titillating night with a few rich folks, drinking expensive champagne and being arm candy to every possible available bachelor in Seattle?

"I don't use anybody," his words were clipped, and laced with irritably. "And regardless of what you may have heard about my reputation, I'm not really into men taking advantage of…"

"Of what?" I pressed. "Go ahead, and say it. You don't think I am strong enough or capable of dealing with someone like Senator Whittman."

I was challenging him to deny it and for a moment, I thought he actually would. Then he opened his mouth and his words were more painful than I thought they would be.

"No, I don't. I know men like James Whittman and they just think they can take what they want."

I nodded and took a step back. "In your eyes I am too weak minded that I would just fall into any sort of game he might be playing," I concluded.

"I—"

The anger was rolling off me in waves as I jabbed my finger in his face. I still didn't know why I was getting so worked up and angry at my boss nonetheless, but maybe it was everything that had been bottled up the last couple of days coming out and unleashing onto Mark Sloan.

"I don't know why for a moment I thought you might not be like all the rest. Someone that just so easily underestimated me. I was wrong. Don't worry Dr. Sloan, you don't need to be worried. I wouldn't dream of embarrassing you or this hospital."

I turned and stormed off in the opposite direction not bothering to care for his reply or worse if I could face any reprimand for how I had just spoken to him.

I didn't know where I was headed, but I found myself walking into a supply closet, shutting out Mark, Seattle Grace, and everyone else to the silence in the room. I locked the door and then kicked it with the tip of my sneaker as I leaned my head against the door.

He didn't think I could handle men like James Whittman.

"I'll show him," I murmured.

Someone cleared their throat behind me, causing me to jump.

"That's great that you want to show whomever you are upset with…but do you mind not locking me in here as well?"

I turned and came face to face with my sister, Meredith. "Sorry, I didn't realize anyone was in here."

She nodded. "Well, we are in a supply closet."

I think she was attempting to make a joke, but my current mood wasn't feeling anything. If this was what the rest of my internship would be like, I was starting to seriously wonder if this was what I really wanted. I knew I wanted to help people, and I was so confident that I was damn good at what I do—even this early on—but my professors weren't kidding when they said it was more of the emotional aspect that determined who made it through to the end.

I unlocked the door, and stepped away leaning against one of the shelves. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Meredith didn't say anything at first. She had a few items in her hands—after all, we were in a supply closet—but stared at me anyway. Great…the last thing I needed was to have my sister also judging me and thinking I was just as uncapable to do this job as everyone else seemed to think.

Instead, I was surprised when Meredith made no move to go, but instead flattened herself against the shelf behind her, holding the supplies to her chest. "Is everything ok? You seem…upset?"

I had to instantly bite back my retort, because I didn't think it would be in the cards for Meredith and I to have any sort of relationship—or conversation at least—where it didn't involve some quick medical related question before she could run away from me.

Did she actually care that something seemed to bother me, or was she just trying to be polite since I had literally—unintentionally—just locked her in the supply closet. If I had to guess, she was another on the feel bad for Lexie train and had some obligation to make sure I was doing ok.

But even in my crummy mood, it was an olive branch and I would be an idiot after all of the attempts I made to push her away because I was having a pity party for one all by myself.

"It's nothing. It's just…is the job always this hard?" I asked.

Meredith seemed to ponder on that for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, it is. It's only going to get harder too," she said honestly.

"Including the attendings?"

She laughed. "Especially the attendings. It's their job to make sure we make them look good and don't kill anyone in the process."

"How…how did you survive your first year?"

"Well, I remember all of the years of training in school. I know that I am qualified and good at my job, and outside of all of that…I want to be a doctor," she answered as if it was that straightforward.

"Being a doctor is all I ever wanted," I admitted.

"Me too," said Meredith. "Well, I think it was what was expected of me anyway."

I don't know what suddenly caused Meredith to have this conversation with me, but now that we were…I found I didn't want it to end. I had Molly, and she was a great sister, but we never had conversations like this. Molly was more a wild child that took her where the wind took her—until she met Eric and fell head over heels for him and settled down—but even then, we didn't talk about deep conversations like this.

I didn't think this would be something I would have with Meredith either, but seeing that she and I both had the same profession, it was nice that maybe we could both confide in each other of the pitfalls and successes of our profession. Mostly, this was nice. It was nice to just have a conversation with Meredith. My sister.

"Do you ever think all you do is fail?" I asked.

She snorted. "All the time. And if you admit that to anyone, I will deny it."

I grinned. Our first secret. It was stupid and small…but it was still a secret that I was sure that she hadn't told anyone else. "Glad I am not the only one."

"Does this have to do with a patient?"

I shrugged. "Yes and no."

I ended up telling her the rough overview of the most recent debacle I was facing as it related to Senator Whittman. Whatever my sister's thoughts were on the matter, she kept it carefully guarded behind her masked expression.

"It's a big opportunity that is for sure," she mused.

"You don't think I can handle it?" I asked, trying to keep the uncertainty that she possibly thought I was a failure too out of my voice.

"I didn't say that." She hesitated a beat, and then took in a large gulp of air. "Listen, I know we share DNA as it relates to your dad. We don't have the same dad, per say, but I can tell you one thing about being a Grey."

"What's that?"

"Greys don't know how to fail. We don't know how to give up." Meredith waited until I looked her in the eye and nodded. "So, take a minute here in the supply room. Pull yourself together, and then get the hell back out there, because a Grey doesn't let anyone tell us what we can and cannot do," she said.

I gave her a slow smile. "Thanks."

She nodded, and started to move towards the door. Our conversation was coming to an end. Just as the door opened, she stopped and turned her head over her shoulder to look at me. "I know I told you that I wasn't ready to want to deal with any relationship. I was wrong. So, if you would still like to get dinner or have a drink, I would like that."

If I didn't know any better, I swore there was a hint of vulnerability in her expression. Something I was learning that even in my short time here at Seattle Grace, Meredith Grey did not do very often.

"I'd like that," I said.

Mark

I found myself at Joe's with a scotch in my hands trying desperately hard to drown out the day.

Who the hell was an intern to sit here and tell me about having a moral compass and what my reputation was? I knew exactly what my reputation was around the halls of Seattle Grace. I was a damn good—if not the best—this hospital had. So, what…I enjoyed woman just as much as the next guy and every woman I hooked up with knew what they were getting into: a damn good time in the sheets and nothing more.

Why the hell was it bothering me that Lexie would think I was just another guy that was all surface and cared about nothing but myself.

"Are you going to look this gloomy all night?" Callie asked, as she took another sip of her beer.

"No."

My response came out more childish, as I brought my scotch to my lips and took another sip. I was aware that I was sulking and mad and probably not the best to be around, but if anyone could deal with my crappy mood, it was my best gal pal, Callie Torres.

Besides, Derek was supposed to be coming buy, but considering that Alex, George, and Meredith were over at a table in the corner, I didn't think he would stay hanging out with us very long.

"Is this still about the intern? Lexie Grey?"

The amber liquid slipping past my lips and down my throat didn't feel as warm and smooth as it usually did. It felt sour and wrong. What the hell is wrong with me? Sex. That's what it was…I hadn't had sex in weeks. Ever since I had figured out that Callie was more turned on by getting hot and bothered when it came to teasing her about Erica touching her then myself.

Just like that our friendship with benefits turned back into friendship. To be honest, I was glad about that. It wasn't that sex with Callie wasn't good…it's just that I liked our friendship the way it was before and the way it was now.

That left me back to the fact that I no longer had a sex partner, and I hadn't been hitting on any other nurses or doctors since then. I kept telling myself that it had to do with Owen's new expectations and the constant need to make sure we were being the best attendings and training our interns, but that never stopped me before.

No…my sudden dry spell was starting to make me think the brunette intern that had no problem speaking her mind to me—even when she shouldn't—was invading my mind and cock blocking me.

"I need to get laid," I groaned.

Callie's eyes went wide as she choked on her sip of beer. "Well, ok then," she said.

"What?" I turned to her. "Ever since you went to play on the opposite team…I realized I haven't been focusing my sites on what I really needed."

She gave me a mocking pout. "Poor, Mark Sloan."

"Shut up."

She turned behind us in the bar. "How about her?"

"Who?"

I turned my shoulder so I could look at who she was pointing out. "The red head."

I looked at her and when I did…she was pretty, but her hair was too red. Not brown. "Nah."

"Okay…how about her?"

I looked at the blonde hair, thin leggy woman, with a rather nice and large bountiful rack and decent ass, but still wasn't feeling it. "Not her either."

The back of Callie's hand came to my forehead. "Whew. For a minute there…I thought you could be experiencing a fever."

"Very funny."

She grabbed her bottle of beer. "Can you blame me? I literally just pointed out two girls that are very much your type and you shot them both down. That's not like you."

"Maybe I've changed," I said quietly.

It was too late…the words were out of my mouth and Callie had heard me anyway. There was a tiny gasp as her bottom mouth fell open. She looked over me her gaze scrutinizing, making me uncomfortable.

"Who is she?"

My brows furrowed together. "Who's who?"

Callie rolled her eyes. "Who's the woman that suddenly has you doing a one eighty?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I mumbled as I brought my scotch to my lips.

"The last time I even heard or saw you like this…was when you were hung up on Addison Montgomery. So, who is she?"

"I'm not interested in anyone," I reiterated.

Callie paused for a minute, her hand clinking against her beer bottle. "Ohmygod…it's the new intern isn't?" she asked suddenly.

"What?"

She shoved my shoulder. "It is…I see it on your face."

"Callie…"

"Mark, she's an intern," she scolded.

"I never said I was interested in an intern," I replied unable to keep the annoyance from my tone.

"You don't have to say it. I speak Mark Sloan," she replied smugly. "Ok, first off…she's an intern. Second, she is like half your age, and third, your best friend is so in love with her half-sister. If that doesn't say, "danger Mr. Robinson," then I don't know what does."

"I already told you—"

"You're not interested…blah blah, blah," she interjected waving her hands in my face clearly not believing me. "You're not going to act on these feelings you have…are you?"

My reply was cold. I no longer wanted to discuss this subject anymore. "No."

"And you have your emotions and feelings in check?"

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Callie…"

"I'm just asking. It's pretty important."

I turned towards her too exhausted to fight her anymore. "Yes, Callie. Nothing is going to happen."

"Good."

I grunted. "I'm so glad you approve."

"No…not good for that…good, because Lexie Grey just walked in…and she is headed right towards you."

I stiffened at Callie words, based on our last interaction. Callie picked up her beer and vacated the seat next to me before I could even protest. I was still riled up from before, and now I had at least two scotches inside of me. Talking to Lexie Grey would not be the best thing right now.

It was too late. I felt her before I even saw her as she came over and slid into the vacant seat next to me. I was already signaling Joe for another scotch as I brought the remaining liquid to my lips and downed it, the warmth working its way through.

Don't look at her. Don't look at her.

"What can I get you, Lexie?" Joe asked.

"I'll take a scotch too," she answered.

That got my attention. I found myself looking in her direction, her head tilting towards me as Joe set a glass in front of her and poured her the same contents.

I brought the glass to my lip. "What are you doing here?" I asked taking a sip.

Her right hand gripped the glass, while the other lazily traced the edge of it. "I came to find you."

I arched my brow. "Oh. Came to yell and insult me some more?"

I recognized that my tone was borderline snippy and a little condescending.

She blew out a breath. "I actually came to apologize."

"Go on…"

Her chin dipped to her chest as she shook her head. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

"Remember what I told you on your first day?" I asked.

There was a ghost of a smile on her lips. "That you're a jerk."

I nodded. "I don't ever take the easy route, Little Grey."

"Fair enough," she said. "Here it goes…I'm sorry. I know you were trying to help and look out for me, and instead I attacked you and said some pretty unfair things about you."

I turned my body and angled towards her. "I accept your apology."

Her whole face lit up. "You do?" Her eyes narrowed. "Wait…it can't be that easy…is it?"

I smirked. "You remind me a lot of myself when I was just starting out in medical school. Actually, I can't say much has changed. I tend to still just say what is on my mind."

She gave me one of her genuine smiles. "You don't say."

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "Somethings are much different then when I completed my internship, Little Grey. If I didn't have Derek and my Chief didn't have a soft spot for me, then I would have been bounced from the program so fast. I didn't really have family to look out for me."

"Are you saying you have a soft spot for me?" she asked.

She thought her comment was made to be teasing and it should be, but I couldn't stop myself. I leaned in, her breathing was quickening, her chest started heaving as I invaded her space. "I'm a friend. I'm someone you can talk too."

She gasped, her face flushing. Her eyes flashed with something at my words. I didn't know what…but suddenly I wanted to know what was going on in that mind of hers.

After a moment, she looked down at her glass of barely touched alcohol and said, "Five questions."

"What?"

She let out a long sigh. "I'll give you five questions. Anything you want to ask, no holds bar…I will answer them."

I was like a kid in a candy shop. She had just given me the ultimate prize. I so badly wanted to ask about why she seemed so tired and what happened to her wrist, but I held back. If it were me, and someone made me—even through a game—disclose something I obviously wanted to keep hidden…it would change the dynamic of said relationship. Besides, I did not want to force her to tell me. I wanted her to tell me because she wanted to tell me.

"Ok. First question. What is your favorite color?"

She gave me a smile, one that lit up her whole face as she turned to answer my question. "Purple."

I nodded as if that answer was the most important answer, one could find out about someone. "Are you attracted to Senator James Whittman?"

Her eyes met mine and held it for a moment, before she responded. "He's handsome, but he really isn't my type."

Inside I felt a huge sigh of relief deflate out of me. "Third question. Do you really think I am a jerk?"

She snorted. It took her a minute and part of me wondered if she was debating how, she could potentially answer this question without hurting my feelings. Because that is who Lexie Grey was. Someone that would help anyway while trying not to hurt your feelings. It was why she was willing to go to bat for a resident she barely knew just because she felt he didn't deserve to be treated that way.

"No…I don't think you're a jerk. I think sometimes you can do jerk like things…but I don't think deep down you are a jerk. I think it's a defense mechanism so people can't see or get to know the real you."

My drink paused at my lips with her response. She was so close to home on that answer that it was scary. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes." Her lips grew wider. "And that was your fourth question."

I had opened my mouth to protest, but closed it. She had bested me on that one. It was my own fault for not setting the rules about clarifying questions. What a cunning little intern I had sitting next to me.

"I better make the last one count," I said.

She laughed, bringing her drink to her lips and taking a small sip. She seemed more relaxed then when she came in and I felt that was in thanks to a huge part of my doing.

I turned in my chair to make sure for this last question I was fully facing her. Lexie instantly mirrored my movement.

"Hit me with your best question."

I grinned. "Are you currently attracted to anyone at work?"

I didn't think she was going to answer based on her expression, but Lexie Grey was just full of surprises.

"Yes," she said with a salacious smile.

A/N: Thanks for reading.