A/N Sorry about the rediculous wait. That crappy life thing keeps getting in the way. Thanks to Labil who supplied the prompt for this chapter and the general idea of jealous, running Mark :) And thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter one! I was bowled over by the enthusiasm for this (and I hope you haven't given up on the idea of me updating.) Enjoy :)
Chapter Two - In the Gym
His heart is about to explode.
Of course, being a doctor he realises it's impossible. Hearts don't make warning beeping sounds inside the chest cavity before blasting apart into a million pieces. There is no Gaza strip between your lungs. Hearts are very down to earth. They don't do dramatic explosions set to ridiculously over-the-top orchestral music by Hans Zimmer.
But then, ten minutes ago he would have said it was impossible for his legs to continue doing that 'thump, thump, thump' thing they're doing (apparently some people call it 'jogging' but he can't really consider it anything less than medieval torture). Over the last ten minutes he's realised three things. One; he is very much thirty eight years of age. Two; Lexie is very much twenty four years of age and three; impossible doesn't exist. If his legs can miraculously conjure the energy to keep going (and yes, his legs are acting on their own accord because the rest of him lost all energy quite some time ago) then his heart can certainly explode.
"Six miles." She says in a victorious puff.
He grunts back. He doesn't know where his legs are getting their energy from but he's not going to speak in case it's his vocal chords.
"Are you okay?" She asks, sneaking a concerned look his way.
He grunts a non committal 'ahuh' and tries to remember why he's here. It had something to do with transforming all his sexual energy into kinetic energy (she used some metaphor about mobile phones and energy transformations which cemented his belief that she was never popular in high school and that she's been lying about it the whole time). In hindsight he thinks he should have gone with the sex and endured the agony of his penile fraction. The operative word being 'endure' because this medieval torture distraction is anything but endurable.
"I didn't realise how fit I was," she says proudly; "Cristina's kept me in great shape."
He really wishes he could get out his witty (and totally sex related) comment on how Cristina's kept her in shape but his lungs have joined in on the 'ticking time bomb' party his heart is hosting.
"We should do this more often."
That almost stills his legs but he catches himself in time, trying not to topple backwards off the treadmill.
"Really, are you okay?" There's more concern in her voice this time and he decides he should probably give her some evidence he's not about to have a heart attack (even though he's pretty sure he is.)
"Fine," he somehow manages to say, impressing himself more by adding; "How… Far?"
"Six point five." She says coherently.
He kind of hates her.
He barely notices when an athletic twenty-something gets on the treadmill next to Lexie but he hears the sniggering. He ignores it. This isn't about male aggression and subconscious competition. It's about losing all energy so he can go back to his hotel room and fall into bed without getting the urge to feel up his girlfriend. Because when he thinks about that he tends to not think about his penile fracture and not thinking about that leads to thinking about lots of other stuff that he's not sure he can resist.
He hears beeping and he actually believes he's having a cardiac arrest. Yanking out the emergency stop clip he thumps his chest in terror. It takes him a few seconds to realise it's the guy on the treadmill next to Lexie increasing his speed and incline.
"What's wrong?" Lexie asks glancing his way.
"Think he's had too much." The 'smug prick' next to her chuckles.
"I've run fifteen miles." He growls.
"Seven." Lexie corrects with a tiny smile.
He kind of loathes her.
"It's okay you know," the 'little shit' says, legs hitting the machine in long confident strides, "You reach a certain age and you just can't keep up. It's normal."
He wishes he had the breath to say something equally clever and cutting but he doesn't. Instead he huffs, puffs and gets really red in the face.
"They have a mature weights class at six if you want to stick around."
He sets his jaw.
"Do you want to stop?" Lexie asks. He detests how condescending she is without realising.
"No." He snaps. "I just haven't been to the gym in a while." He takes a deep breath. "I have a job. A very demanding job."
He looks at the college moron pointedly.
He just grins back before aiming his seventy blinding teeth at Lexie and asking; "You come here often?"
It's all a bit much for him now. Not only is he almost dead because of an inanimate machine but some foetus is hitting on his girlfriend with the most overused pick up line in the history of the universe.
"Uh… Occasionally." She says in that ridiculously sincere voice, blissfully unaware of his trawling glances up and down her body; "I'm a surgical intern so I don't get much time."
"You look in shape."
He steps (or stomps rather) onto the treadmill and bashes the speed button until he's almost sprinting to remain vertical. It's not about competition but he's not going to watch some idiot flirting with his girlfriend while he has a stroke in the background.
"Thanks." She says, ducking her head and blushing wildly, shooting Mark a kind of wide eyed 'can you believe this guy is flirting with me right in front of you?!' look that's accompanied with a smile that's just too satisfied for his liking.
He kind of fucking deplores her.
The jealousy in his chest bubbles over the edge of his badly placed facade. He bashes the speed button again, determined to beat this little shit at his own game. His masculinity has been threatened enough in the last two weeks and he's not sure it can handle another hit.
The foetus calmly hits his speed button, the quick strides becoming almost blurred.
With an entirely primitive growl Mark smacks the button and tries to resist the urge of taking Lexie right then and there to show this little dick that he is Dr Mark Sloan, plastic surgeon and sex extraordinaire.
True to his irritating nature, the prick uses one specific finger to hit the speed button pointedly, breaking into a run that's completely out of Mark's reach (he matches it, taking the hits with inward cringes anyway because no one tries to out do him in front of his girlfriend.)
Lexie's head snaps between them likes she's watching some high speed tennis match. She's totally unaware of how intoxicating her innocence is. Totally effing unaware.
"Careful old man." The dick says snidely, "I wouldn't want your daughter here to have to drag you to the emergency room."
It's too much. He yanks his and Lexie's emergency stop clips out simultaneously, catching her as she stumbles backwards and kissing her ferociously. By instinct her tongue tangles with his. His hands go straight to her arse and all these damn images are in his head before he can even think…
"Penile fracture!" She exclaims, breaking away, "God Mark!"
He ignores her, ducking his head to capture her lips again and catching her just off guard enough to get a response.
"Stop." She's more amused now than angry, only half hearted in her attempts at pushing him away. Half hearted as she is it gives the adrenaline of undermining her and the little shit enough time to stop pumping through his veins. He staggers a bit, suddenly very light headed, his heart beating in an uneven rhythm that just can't be healthy.
"Mark?" She says carefully.
"Water," He croaks, "I need water."
"Puffed by first base old man?"
Lexie just manages to get him out of the gym before he strangles the smug fuck with his emergency stop clip. He did actually get the threat out (dotted with obscenities and just what he'd do with all his body parts if he ever looked at Lexie again) before she pulled his arm around her and practically carried him out the front doors.
She drives (his legs can't handle the pressure of the pedals) and doesn't say anything the whole time. He's pretty sure she's trying to protect his masculinity.
When they get back to the hotel room she says timidly; "Maybe jogging's not the best idea?"
He hobbles around to look at her; brown eyes wide and terrified meet his gaze.
She's got no idea how intoxicating she really is but he just doesn't have the energy to think about it. With ten miles between him and the little prick male aggression is no longer fuelling his actions.
"Maybe not." He says falling face down onto the bed, "But it had the desired effect."
A grin threatens at the corner of her lips; "You're not thinking about sex right now?"
"I'm thinking I might be twenty years too old for sex if that counts."
She smirks, flopping down next to him and sneaking a hand between he and the bed sheet in a way that makes him sure her intentions are entirely sexual, "Actually, I think the twenty years make all the difference."
He raises an eyebrow (he doesn't know how he manages it); "I thought you were trying to distract me Little Grey?"
She rolls him over (he doesn't have the strength to resist) straddling him in an entirely teasing manner; "I was." She laughs, "But now I know you're too tired for much to come of it…"
"Except driving me completely insane" he murmurs, closing his eyes.
"I'm throwing caution to the wind."
She hovers over him, waiting for his reply.
"Mark?"
She can't help but laugh. Jogging may have almost landed him in jail for murder in the first degree but for now it's saved his penis.
Anyone interested in competitive Mark? Leave a note in the review ;)
