Warning: Rated T for strong language.

A/N: Thanks for your patience with only one update this weekend. Busy weekend with the family.

Bookworm6879 – It's coming to the end. I am thinking about maybe 8-9 more chapters at this point. I want to wrap it up…but creatively…I don't want to wrap it up in a rush that it takes away from the actual story.

Guest – I won't ruin for you whether Addison will be good or bad…it remains to be seen.

Chapter 17

Lexie

Lexie couldn't remember the last time her muscles got this much of a workout. She was sore in all kinds of places, but it was the best kind of sore.

She still had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach about the vivid dream from the night before. She could tell that Mark knew there was something that had deeply troubled her in her dream, and the sting to not ask her anymore about it when he wanted too.

The fact that he knew exactly what she needed when she climbed over him and let her use his body as a source of comfort and need, made her feel just a little more ashamed that she hadn't been willing to want to tell him what the dream had been about. It was just a dream. People had them all the time. His work was dangerous, so it wasn't uncommon for someone that cared about someone in a dangerous profession to have dreams like this.

She just had a hard time separating the fact that it seemed so real. So vivid, as if it had actually happened. The questions that rolled over in her head after Mark had gotten a call and needed to leave that morning, still hadn't quieted down.

How did she end up there?

Where was there to begin with?

Who had taken her?

What had they done to her before Mark had arrived?

Had he even survived?

She swallowed at that last part. She recalled hearing the sounds of the bullets ricochet off the wall. She felt in deep in her bones—even in the dream—that he had most likely had not survived after she had turned and ran like she promised him she would. Her heart clenched, broke, and threatened to stop beating until she had bolted upright in her bed.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

"Hey Lexie," April said, pulling her from her thoughts. "I haven't seen you much since the other day in the attendings lounge. I have been dying to hear all about your date," she said enthusiastically.

Lexie felt a blush creep to her cheeks just thinking about the part of the date she couldn't stop thinking about. "It was great. We, um, actually have gone out again after the first date."

April gave her a beaming look. "Ohmygod, you look so happy," she said, clasping her charts to her chest. "Was I right that you had nothing to worry about?"

Lexie bit her lip thinking back to their first date at his home. She had been the one that ended up being the aggressor when it came to the physical content. She wasn't going to share that with her fast-becoming friend.

"You were right. Nothing to worry about," she confirmed.

They stopped at the nurse's station, April dropping off her files to the waiting nurse. "Maybe you and your new beau and Jackson and I could do a double date sometime."

She didn't want to immediately shut her down even though Lexie knew that would be something that could never happen. Besides, Jackson knew what Mark did for a living and had been on his case. If they even so much as found out that she was involved with him, it would spread like wild fire and put Mark, Derek or their entire operation at risk.

"Uh, sure…"

April smiled at her, before turning and skipping away back towards the ER for her preparation for the shift that day.

It had been a long fourteen hour shift by the time she had finally left the hospital. It felt like every trauma that had come into the ER had required some sort of neuro exam and/or surgery. It required Lexie to put off any of her other surgeries that could wait and not life threatening.

She spent the last hour of her shift still trying to come up with a plan for her ballerina case. She was close to what she thought could be a successful surgery, but she understood now why all of her fellow peers didn't want to touch the case. The success rate was less than three percent, and all of the other remaining cuts would cause other life alternating changes. Lexie had been forthcoming with all of that information when talking to her patient, but her patient didn't care. She was putting all of her faith in her and that somehow Lexie would make sure she was part of the three percent.

After changing out of her scrubs and back into her clothes, she thought about calling Mark and seeing if he wanted to get together. They had just seen each other this morning, and she knew that his job was extremely important, but she already missed his touch. Was craving it. She really wanted to talk about her day and get his thoughts on her case. Something she also never had wanted to do before with anyone outside of another surgeon.

As much as she wanted him tonight, she decided to forgo calling him or texting him. She didn't know if he was in the middle of a meeting or something important, and she was afraid her reaching out might prove to be more of a distraction.

She called in an order at her favorite Chinese place and headed home. It was a colder night, the sky darkened as it started to split open with drops of rain falling from the sky. She huddled her jacket closer to her body as she ran from her car to her building, shuffling her bag of Chinese food as she climbed the few flights of stairs to her apartment.

Once she unlocked the door and flipped on her lights, she froze in place. She almost had to catch the fact that her food slipped from her hands.

"Well, come on in…it is after all your home."

Lexie moved into her apartment, holding her food more securely, as her eyes narrowed over at the red-headed woman sitting comfortably on her couch like she owned the place.

Addison Montgomery was waiting for her in her home.

Lexie shut the door behind her, an instant feeling of dread filling her. What was Addison doing here, and what did she want with her? A cold ripple of panic shot up her body as she thought back to her dream from last night. Was this how it started?

She straightened her posture doing her best not to let the woman sitting in her apartment know what she was completely intimidated by her. She carefully put her takeout on the counter, dropped her purse on the barstool, and turned back to face her.

"Are you not even going to offer me a drink?" Addison said, offering her a bemused expression.

Lexie licked her lips. "I only offer drinks to guests I invite."

Addison chuckled, a smile forming on her lips. "I see why Markie seems to like you."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want? Why did you break into my home? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops and have you arrested for breaking and entering."

Addison didn't even seem phased by her threat. She looked at her red manicured nails as if she was already bored with the conversation. It made Lexie want to grit her teeth, and wonder why she even bothered to come here in the first place.

"Please child, I would have the cops eating out of the palm of my hand," she murmured.

Lexie didn't doubt that Addison probably had cops on her payroll. Wasn't that how most of the illegal crime organizations kept in business. It made Lexie wonder if Mark knew who those cops might be, or if those cops were working with him directly. Either way, something told her that involving the cops or even Mark at this point would not be a wise decision.

She looked back to Addison sitting on her couch in an immaculate looking outfit. She looked every bit like Katherine Hepburn in a black dress that hung off her shoulders and down all the way past her knees. Her long black high heels once again showed off her long-toned legs. She wondered if this was how she dressed normally, or if she had just come from some fancy soiree or possibly even a date.

She hugged her arms over her chest a little tighter leaning back against the counter. "What do you want?"

"Neurosurgeon at Seattle Grace Hospital. That's pretty impressive for someone as young as you."

Lexie waited to see if she was going to add anymore to her comment. If this was her attempt to scare her that she had done her research on who she was, she wasn't going to give anything away. After all that information was already public and available on the hospital's website.

After a few minutes of silence, Addison dropped her air of pretense, her hand falling back to her lap, as her eyes narrowed at Lexie. "Mark met you when he was injured, didn't he?"

Lexie hardened her stare at the woman. "I don't who may or may not have been patients, nor what medical treatment I may or may not have provided."

That same cat like grin spread across Addison's lips. "I see why Markie seems to be taken with you."

So, this was why she was here. She could hardly believe that the exotic red-head came to scope out the competition. Addison couldn't understand what made Mark taken with her—just as Lexie was having a hard time herself—and that made Addison curious.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she lied.

Addison chuckled. "Oh please. I've seen the way he looks at you. The way he seems so defensive and protective. I think it's cute," she said in a patronizing tone, her lips forming into a pout.

Lexie let out a long sigh. "Again, why are you here?"

Addison stood in one swift movement, taking a few steps forward. In her long heels, the woman towered over her, making it hard for Lexie to not want to shrink back.

"You might think you are something special, but I assure you that you are not," she said coolly, Lexie figuring her true nature was finally starting to show. "Mark has always had different types of—" she let the sentence hang there as her eyes drifted up and down her body "—tastes," she finished. "Once had has collected what he has wanted, tickled his fancy, he will walk away like he always does."

Her pointer finger reached out and tapped her nose, before she turned in her family room, walking over to the large window outlooking her apartment.

"I never said I was special, and I never said anything was going on between Mark or myself. I wonder why you even bothered to make the trouble to come all the way out here to tell me this," she responded.

Addison looked over her shoulder. "Because you're an innocent. You don't know Mark like I know him. You think he's exciting, and wealthy, because he speaks eloquently that you hit the jackpot. You know of nothing about who he really is."

She was referring to the fact of Mark being a crime lord. She had to school her expression knowing that it was Addison that didn't really know who the true Mark was. That everyday he woke up with the single purpose in gathering as much evidence to bring her to justice. That he only showed her what he wanted her to see, while she got to see the true Mark.

"And who is he

Addison turned, her gaze falling on a piece of artwork on her wall. It was actually an expensive piece of art from a patient she had treated early on her career. An artist that had a tumor causing her to lose her vision, which in returned almost cost her career as a painter. Once Lexie had removed the tumor, the artists vision had been restored. A few weeks later, this piece of artwork showed up at her door. It was one of her most famous pieces of art, finally making Lexie look it up over two years ago. It was almost worth a million dollars at that time. She would never sell it, because it was a reminder to her that she could always take on the most impossible cases when others did not.

"He's someone that is too good to be slumming his days with the likes of you," she replied.

Her tone wasn't actually meant to be harsh—to Lexie's surprise—but also said in the manner that Lexie felt Addison was just simply stating it as a fact. Like being a medical professional that saved lives rather than taking them was somehow slumming it. She saved them, while Addison happily took them.

"Wouldn't that be for Mark to decide?" she shot back.

Addison tore her gaze from the artwork and walked back over to her. "Mark has never been good and recognizing what is best for him. Sometimes, someone needs to look after him."

"So, breaking into my home and telling me I am not worthy is your idea of looking out for him." She blurted out.

Addison shrugged. "Someone has to do the dirty work."

"And…what if I am someone that he wants to continue to spend his time with?"

Addison's eyes narrowed. "Then you would be a fool. Dangerous things happen to people that don't belong in our world."

There was the ominousness threat in her words. It wasn't lost on her that she kept her words cryptic about what it was they did. Just that it was dangerous. No, what Addison Montgomery was saying was that she was dangerous and that if she did not heed her warning, that something would befall her.

Lexie arched her brow. "Is that a threat?"

Addison shot her that diplomatic smile. "That's a promise. Walk away while you still can," she encouraged as she moved towards her front door.

Addison picked up her coat she had draped over her sofa and started to place it over her shoulders. Apparently, this conversation was coming to an end.

Addison half-turned back as she swiped her hair out from underneath her coat. "Oh, and if you are thinking about telling Mark that I stopped by for a little girl chat…don't."

Addison's eyes held her, daring her to challenge her on this. Lexie knew that if Mark found out that she had been here that he would not be happy. If Lexie went and told him the extent of why she was here—threatening her to walk away—he would want to pay her a visit himself.

Addison opened the door, stopping just in the entryway. "Enjoy your dinner. Although, I would be sure to watch your waistline."

Lexie scowled at her as she chuckled and walked out the door. She stormed across the room, and shut the door behind her. The woman had a lot of nerve showing up at her home—unannounced and unwanted—to not only threaten her but belittle her looks as a person.

She had just been about to turn around and drown out what ended up being a crappy end to her day when another knock appeared on her door. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Who else would be coming around at this time of night?

"Just a minute," she hollered, trying to give herself a minute to think about what she should do.

What if Addison had returned, but this time it wasn't just a chat? What if instead, she sent someone else to make sure she really made sure to understand her little warning. She shook her head, smoothing out her hair and trying to calm the concerns that were plaguing to take over her.

Her eyes opened wide as she opened the door, seeing Mark standing there. "Mark…what are you—"

"Can I come in?" he cut her off. She could sense that something was wrong even though he was trying to hide it.

She stepped aside instantly, wondering if he somehow knew that Addison had just stopped by. She had just left possibly minutes before, was it possible that he saw her leaving her apartment.

She tried to keep her voice calm, her expression deadpan to not give anything away. "Is…is everything ok?"

She watched his expression soften as his eyes looked back to her. "I missed you," he said, shutting the door behind him with his foot as he came closer towards her.

Her lips equally carved into a smile as well, because just before Addison had showed up...that had been her very thought as well. She had really wanted to see him again, and now that he was here, she was happy that he was here. All of her previous thoughts and worry—including Addison's recent threats not only minutes ago—seemed to just melt away now that he was here.

"I missed you too," she replied, coming to wrap her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a quick kiss. She pulled back, but wanted to keep him as close as possible. "I was just going to take a shower. Do you want to stay for dinner?"

She could sense that she was right that something must've happened during their time apart. There was indecision in his expression on whether he should stay or go.

"I will," he said at last.

She kissed him again, and unclasped her arms from around his neck. "Make yourself at home while I take a quick shower and get all of today washed away."

She turned away, trying not to feel gross that she was going to keep the Addison visit to herself. She could feel that Mark was here because he did miss her, but there was something that flickered behind those eyes that made her feel as if he was worried about something. No. Her.

She made her shower quick, dressing back in a tank and pair of sweats as she emerged from her bedroom, using her towel to dry the liquid from her hair. Mark had already looked more relax with his coat removed. He rummaged through her kitchen looking for plates, glasses and silverware to go ahead and get her dinner out and ready. She was glad she ended up ordering for more than one—something she always did to have leftovers in the event she worked a late shift at the hospital.

"Thank you," she said, dropping her towel to the side, and coming to sit next to him on the couch with her food waiting for them.

Her stomach was growling, as she took her first few bites, letting the silence rest comfortably between them. She noticed out of the side of her eyes that Mark only had a limited amount of food on his plate, focusing more on the bottle of beer in his hand.

"You seem different. Are you sure you're, ok?"

He nodded a little too quickly, taking another sip and turning to her with a smile that she could tell was not only forced, but didn't reach his eyes. Something was clearly bothering him, but for whatever reason wasn't opening up to tell her about it.

"How was your day?" he asked changing the subject.

She used that as an opportunity to try and replace some of the doom and gloom feeling in the apartment, but telling her how busy the ER day had been. That she had one of those golden days when every patient she saw in today's surgery went successful and that all should make a full recovery. It made her feel good.

Even as he nodded, congratulated, and smiled at her as she retold her story, he still wasn't present with her and it was starting to drive her mad. She put her plate down and turned to look at him.

She groaned. "Just say it already. I can't take this invisible wall that seems to be between us. So, for whatever other reason you are here…just say it."

He put the beer bottle back on her coffee table, stood, and turned away. He rubbed at his face with his hand even with her back to him. "When were you going to tell me that Addison came by?"

She was glad for the moment that his back was to her, because her initial reaction would have given her away instantly. When she hadn't responded, he turned back, and met her direct gaze. She could see the storm brewing behind those eyes.

She blinked. "I don't—"

She closed her mouth not even bothering to finish the sentence, because his eyes said it all.

Don't lie to me.

It was one thing for her to avoid the subject or not talk about it, but he was directly asking her. He already knew something, and it now became more about trying to downplay what their conversation was about. She had to hope that he didn't know what was discussed in their conversation.

"How—how did you know? Were you following me?"

He shook his head. "Not you. Addison." he admitted.

"Why?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know why."

Her voice was deliberately even. "And you think she came here?"

He crossed his arms. "I know she was here. She wears a perfume that costs over five-hundred dollars per bottle, and she is the only woman I have ever met that wears it. That scent is lingering here in your apartment. So, she was here. I want to know why."

She tore her gaze away from him. "I can't tell you," she said softly.

He gaped at her, before his brows knitted in indignation. "This isn't a game, Lex. I need you to tell me what she wanted."

She huffed, slumping back against her couch and closed her eyes. "You don't think I know this isn't a game? I want to tell you, but I can't tell you," she repeated.

His voice grew more agitated. "Says who?" When she didn't answer he added, "Did Addison threaten you if you told me?" She still didn't say anything, she could hear the large intake of breath. "Lexie!"

Her eyes opened, and she glared at him. "I told you, I can't!" she snapped, grabbing their plates and working her way to the kitchen.

He was hot on her heels. "Not good enough. She's dangerous, Lexie. I need to know—"

She spun on him as soon as she dropped the dishes in the sink. "You don't think I know that! Because that's what you don't get. I know she's dangerous. I know she secretly has feelings for you, and I know she doesn't want me in the picture."

She could sense he was trying to keep his breathing even, control his temper with the clenching and unclenching of his fists, his eyes never leaving hers. She wasn't worried or scared in the slightest that he would do anything to hurt her, but she could see the worry and anger in his eyes. He was wound up tight, and her not being forthcoming about the conversation was making things that much worse.

"You think this little visit of hers is going to be the end of it," he told her. "That she said her peace and that is all there is too it. It's not. This was just the beginning unless I know what happened so I can stop it."

She shrugged. "I can't help you," she replied meekly.

He growled, coming into the kitchen now, looming over her again. If it would have been anyone else, it should make her scared, but it was Mark, and she knew without a doubt he would never hurt her. All it did was make her that much more aware of the heat coming off of him, and her need for him.

He shook his head in dismay. "I can't protect you if I don't know all the factors."

"Like you did tonight? You said you had a tail on her, yet she still showed up here anyway."

Her hand came to her mouth the moment the words came out of her mouth. They were cruel and mean and that wasn't fair of her to say it to him. The one thing that possibly had the hold over him to want to tear whatever it was between them apart. She had just handed it over to him on a silver platter.

It was the first time she had actually seen him looked shocked. That or as if she had just slapped him across the cheek. Slapping him across the cheek she figured would probably have hurt less than her words. When he took a step back, the distance might as well felt like miles between them.

"I see."

She reached out, but he backed away. "I didn't mean that," she said desperately trying to fix the damage she just caused. She just had to hope it wasn't too late.

"It's the truth," he said dejectedly.

She shook her head frantically, closing the distance, trying to get him to look at her properly. "No. No it's not."

"I told you, what I do is dangerous. It's only been a couple of days, and already something could have happened and I hadn't been here to stop it. You could have…"

"Mark, I'm fine. Nothing happened. It was nothing, really."

The storm in his eyes was full on raging now, and she wasn't sure if it could be fixed. She tried to push back the fear, calm her nerves, reinforce there was always a plan and a backup plan…just like she did every time she was in surgery. Surgeons always had a plan, but they also had to expect for the unexpected. This was one of those unexpected moments and she just had to find a way to navigate out of this mess.

"No, it's not," he said. She could hear the bitterness, the disappointment in himself and his voice. He was pulling away. "I have to go."

He started to march towards the door, but her hand caught his arm, holding on for dear life and refusing to let him go.

"Don't go." She pleaded. "Please."

He looked back, his eyes softening just a little, as his hand came up to touch her still damp hair and push it back from her face. She didn't like the look on his face, because the look on his face was very much as if he was going to say good-bye. Her heart fell into her stomach.

"I told you…I can't stand the thought of something ever happening to you. So, I'm doing the only thing I know how to do to keep you safe."

Even as she saw the warning signs directly in front of her that he was going to walk away, she still wasn't prepared for it.

"No…"

He reached for his jacket his hand on the knob to turn the dial.

"It's what she wanted. You're giving her what she wanted," she whispered, through her sniffle.

His hand stilled on the door knob, turning back to face her seeing the tears already forming in her eyes. "What did she want?"

She let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging. "To have me make you walk away. In laymen terms, if I didn't, walkaway that is…things could, um, get dangerous."

There was a loud grumble at the back of his throat. His touch was soft and gentle towards her when his fingers grazed her cheek. She felt in that moment she could breathe again that he wasn't about to run back out the door.

His words were a silky promise. "I won't let her hurt you."

She leaned into his touch. "I know." She did know. Without a doubt that he would keep that promise.

She still sensed his hesitation that staying was the right thing to do. She didn't like it. She thought after last night, they would be past all initial worry, but one stupid visit from Addison in trying to play mind games and it threatened to undo it all. She never should have let her try and intimidate her with fear to not tell Mark what was really going on.

Her words were soft and begging. "Please stay."

"Lex, you need to understand everything before you think you want to be with me. Being a mobster—" he stopped himself remembering that here he might not be able to speak as freely as his home— "—because that is what I am—I have constant enemies. Anyone I care about is someone that could be hurt just because of who I am. Being with me, means that they are no longer just my enemies anymore, but they have become yours too. The thought that I might not be able to protect you…"

The annoyance at him trying to push her away surged through her, hot and rigid: he didn't get to decide this for her.

"I know the risks, Mark. I do. I also know you. I want this."

She took his hand and placed it across her chest so he could feel the way her heart was thundering under her chest for him.

"Lex…"

Knowing that words would no longer work, she did the only other thing that she figured would work. Her hand came up around his neck, grabbing hold of his hair, pushing his head down so his lips would meet hers. Their kissing was always like a well choregraph dance. Their dance, a rhythm set that was created for their two souls—bodies—perfectly.

She pulled back slightly, their lips still grazing, her breath catching. "Mark…please…"

He groaned, and she knew that sound was his inability to refuse her. "I need to know everything she said to you. Everything."

She nodded gingerly. "Later." She agreed before pulling his mouth back to hers.

The way he kissed her; held her, his hands roaming up and down her body gave no question as to how much he wanted her even when he tried to talk himself out of it. She relished in the fact that now she could sense how much he wanted to take her right then and there, not caring if it was on a bed, counter, couch, or the ground. He didn't just want her…he needed her. She needed him too. It was a feeling so powerful between them, that she felt she could die if she didn't actually feel him inside her—and soon.

There clothes came off in a frenzy as he lifted her effortlessly and took her back into the bedroom. She would worry about the consequences of telling him later. For now, the feel of his lips was the only thing she could focus on and giving into his touch as he worked over her entire body.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed.