A/N: Wir lieben euch!!!!! Thanks so much for the great feedback, guys. We´ll see Mark struggle more in this chapter. I won´t lie, it´s hard for him, but he´s determined to make it.
Here´s something that´s only concerning me, I am Not from the US/Canada and I won´t be able to watch the new episode before Friday afternoon my time(6hrs ahead of NYC), so, please, don´t comment on anything that´s happening on tonight´s GA episode in your reviews. Thanks.
Chapter Four
Mark balanced a cup of coffee, a pair of pencils and crayons on a thin sketch book. So far he was holding up quite well, only a bit of coffee spilled on his way up the stairs. Usually he would have taken the elevator, but in order to avoid nosey people and boy, were there a lot in Seattle, he took the stairs, even though he knew it could cost him parts of his bone dry cappuccino. His pride was at stake, he could survive the loss of caffeine fix.
He made his way over to the locker room door and pushed it open with his right shoulder trying to not let something slip and fall to the ground.
Inside, he walked over to his locker, head down when he heard her voice.
"Hey, Mark, what took you so long," she asked huskily, "we've been waiting."
As he looked up, everything he had been holding just moments ago, fell to the ground. His throat dry and his voice weak, he was only able to choke out her name, "Addison."
Right there in the locker room were Addison, Callie, Izzie, Christina and Meredith and they were all only dressed in underwear. Black lacy, red silky or innocently white panties. They were looking at him, biting down on their lower lips and pressing their hands either against the locker or into their waists.
Addison was now walking towards him, hips swaying with every step. He couldn't avert his eyes from her body, looking it up and down. When she was close enough to touch her, his hands made contact with her soft skin, but she shoved them away and held his wrists tightly at either side of his body. She brought her mouth up to his ear, breathing heavily Mark shivered at the feel of her breath on his skin. He had been waiting so long for this and he couldn't quite believe the time had finally come. She had yet to make contact with his skin, her mouth only hovered over his right ear as she whispered softly, "we, all of us, agree that you have been very brave with the whole sixty days thing, so we think you deserve a little present." Saying the last part, she started nibbling on his ear lob, letting go of his wrists and curling his fingers under his shirt. Mark's hands wandered down her back, to cup her ass and push her further into his body. She trailed kisses from his ear to his mouth and brushed her lips softly against his before pulling away. His hands on her ass kept her from going back to far. Mark wasn't ready to let go off her yet and certainly not soon.
That was when a familiar voice interrupted the moment Addison and Mark were having. From behind Christina snaked her arms around Mark's waist and breathed, very aroused, "I'm your present, unwrap me." Her arms soon found their way to the hem of his shirt and together with Addison, they lifted it up and over his head. Christina then traced the muscles on his back with her right index finger, leaving a trail of goose pimples behind.
Addison focused on his chest and abdomen, placing soft kisses from the top to the bottom, stopping when she reached the hem of his jeans and undid the belt painfully slow for Mark's taste. He wanted her hands everywhere, all at the same time and her lips on his. So he placed one hand under her chin, pushing it lightly upwards, making her understand what he wanted and where he wanted it or rather them. She just shook her head, though, keeping her attention on removing the belt, undoing to button and unzipping his jeans.
His lips were soon covered by Callie´s and his hands entangled in her hair. She had fabulous hair. He preferred Addison's red hair, but Callie´s was really pretty, too. Her tongue was tracing his lower lip and her hands were making circles on his abdomen.
Mark wasn't a religious person. He stopped going to church when he was five. That was when his Grandma had died. They had had that ritual to go over to Saint Joseph's Church every Sunday. Other than his Grannie, going to church was rather about spending time with his Grandma than God. His parents either fought or suffered in silence, sometimes with other people. They split up when he was seven. His father moved away, somewhere south. He used to get cards for Christmas and his birthday at first, but with time that stopped, too. His father had remarried and as far as he knew gotten two more children, a girl named Lauren and a boy called James. He had stayed with his mom who had married again 3 years after the divorce had been finalized.
No, Mark really wasn't a religious person. He thought of religion as legal drug for those who needed escape from reality, who needed to believe that what they were going through on earth did indeed have a greater reason than what Mark found for himself to be the reason for everything happening to him. Human stupidity. But if there was something similar like heaven, than Mark was sure, like he had never been in his life, it must be similar to what he was experiencing at the moment.
He closed his eyes, sighed contently and fell to the ground.
"Ow," Mark cursed, rubbing his right shoulder, he realized that everything he had just felt and seen had been nothing than a very intoxicating dream.
He heard someone laugh out loud and averted his eyes to the source of laughter. Jordan sat up in his bed, his eyes beaming and his cheeks hinting redness from the laughing. "Man, what were you dreaming about? You were lying there with a face as if you had just won a billion dollars," he choked out in between fits of laughter, "that was, of course, before you fell to the ground." He giggled some more before focusing his eyes back on the paper he had been drawing on for quite some time now.
"A billion dollars, huh? What I've been dreaming of is easily worth a billion dollars and more."
He stood up from the couch and walked up the little boy's bed to sit down on the edge. He took some of the papers Jordan had been drawing on from his hands and looked them over.
"Wow, you're a natural. These are really good."
Jordan looked up from the picture he was currently drawing, beaming with pride he answered shyly, "yeah, they are okay, but not what I want yet. You know, they have to be really pretty because Dr. Montgomery is really pretty and I guess she gets a lot of pictures because of it. They have to be special."
"Yeah, I guess she does. But she also knows that you're special. She'll be happy with either of these pictures. And you better go to sleep now, it's late," he said the last in a very unfamiliar fatherly tone that shocked him to know he could do.
Jordan nodded and put away the papers, pencils and crayons spread all over his bed. Mark helped him do so and tucked him in afterwards.
When he was about to leave, Jordan called him back and asked curiously, "What's worth a billion dollar and more?"
He smiled at the little boy and answered fastly, "that, buddy, I'll tell you in a couple of years."
He walked out of the room after switching off the light.
+8+8+8+8+
Mark went into Joes that night. After that day and especially after the very exciting and torturing dream, he was sure he needed some alcohol intake before he went to bed or otherwise he would not be able to sleep. He sat down in a bar stool next to a familiar frame, not sure if it was really the most intelligent move, but somewhat intrigued. Plus, she wasn't part of his dream...therefore safe territory.
"Hello, Miranda. What brings you to Joe's this late? I heard you have a kid." He didn't bother to shrug out of his coat and instead ordered his scotch right away with one swift hand motion.
"And a husband," she answered disinterestedly.
"Right. And husband. So that still leaves...," but he was interrupted by the attending.
"Exactly. And to answer your question, I'm here with a bunch of hormonal 13-year olds who've probably gone to the toilet to plot some new drama." She lifted her hand an pointed with her index finger at him, "how to torture you the best way possible and drive me nuts all at the same time. I'm here for some fun girl time with my girlfriends because my husband suggested I needed some time for myself and my friends once in a while. And as you can see, I am having a hell of a lot fun watching them grind and you are interrupting that time by asking silly questions." That said she glared at him and took a sip of her bitter lemon.
Mark laughed at that, but was soon interrupted by her hand making contact with the back of his head.
"Hey," he exclaimed slightly shocked.
"So what? You deserved it," Bailey stated flatly.
Mark turned in his stool and eyed her curiously, "Why, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I do," she said ignoring his glaring, "You mean other than your mere existence? For one, you're still sitting next to me, when I told you I didn't want to converse with you, on my evening off, nonetheless. Second..."
This time they were interrupted by another woman's voice. This particular other woman was now walking towards Mark, coming closer and closer, and finally leaning dangerously close to Mark against the counter top.
"Hey, Callie, Mark's here," she said that while twisting one of her red locks around her right index finger, "What are you doing here? I didn't know you were coming," While saying the last words she leaned in, so that he was now feeling her breath on his skin.
Mark tried his best to regulate his breathing and it was getting harder and harder with every inch she was coming closer and when her breath reached his skin and her perfume overtook every other scent in the bar, the only thing he could say was the obvious. Quietly he stated, his voice thick with lust, "you're drunk, Addison."
It took her a moment to adjust her blouse, giving him a better view of her cleavage. She took his drink from his hand and drank from his scotch, before speaking again, "you're not."
He didn't reply to this, mainly because he really didn't know what to say right now. She was all around and all over him and whenever she was that close and especially when he had had no sex in as long as he had not had and he had not had sex that long since high school, the earlier years. Everything inside of him, every fiber, ached for her touch and her lips all over his body, preferably on his own. He wanted dream Addison and he wanted her now. If it hadn't been for Miranda, the poor soul, and the no-sex deal, he'd probably take her right there and then.
Right in this moment, Addison placed one of her hands on his thighs, rubbing it up and down, and asked in a low voice, chewing on her bottom lip, "Wanna dance?"
Mark coughed and leaned back, even though it took all of his will and determination to reject her affections. He knew that she was testing the waters. She was trying to crack him, to see if he was really determined enough to go through the sixty days just for the prospect of being with her. Underneath this playful exterior and the teasing, was the other Addison, the one who was insecure and heartbroken. He had done part of the damage and not enough to keep her from all the other shit that had come around in spades. He swore to himself that this time would be different, that loving her would be enough.
He got up, thanking whatever made him not take off his coat, lay some money on the counter and said quietly, "eh, I better get going. Big day tomorrow."
He kissed Addison softly on her cheek and winked at the others.
"Wow, I've never seen him like that," Addison said somewhat more sober.
"He's suffering," Callie smirked as she took a sip of her ginger ale.
"He's taking the whole bet seriously. Isn't that what you wanted, Addison?" Miranda looked at her friend, feeling the urge to defend the male attending.
"Yeah," she said simply, already lost in thought.
+8+8+8+8+
Mark was walking down the street, along the Pudget Sound, considering going back to the hospital and staying there for the night. Being with Jordan was doing him good. He saw much of how he had been as kid, growing up with only one parent and being used to being alone. Furthermore being with Jordan made being around Addison a lot easier. For Jordan Addison was more Dr. Montgomery than Addison Forbes Montgomery Shepherd, still Shepherd and probably forever Shepherd because that girl that she used to be, the Addison Forbes Montgomery she had been before Derek, that's just simply someone she couldn't go back to. She wasn't really Addison Shepherd either, she was someone without a real name, so for him she was only Addison, not Addie, simply Addison.
For Jordan Addison was beautiful, smart and kind. He looked at her with that innocent naivity only children can look at the world. She was on a pedestal and that made it easier for Mark to not touch her and to not kiss her. She was that tiny bit closer to perfection and also he knew she wasn't anywhere near perfect or flawless, being at the hospital and being around Dr. Montgomery made him want Addison more, but made his control over himself also ten times stronger than normally.
He was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He took the phone out of his back pocket and brought it up to his ear after pushing the answering button,
"Hey."
There was silence on the other end, before someone burst out laughing. Hysterical fits of laughter interrupted by the occasional need to breathe. He knew right away who was the person on the other end. Thirty years of knowing each other, of growing up with each other, he knew every detail about the person on the other end, like how her laughter sounded or that only she would be calling at 2.30am her time to laugh at whatever made her laugh about him.
"Nancy," he sighed in annoyance.
Nancy was again silent for a moment before she started laughing again, not as hysterically as before and more interrupted by a choked out Oh boy, Mark, oh boy. Mark got slightly frustrated with her behavior and considered hanging up on her, though he knew very well that she would be calling him again the instance she realized he'd hung up on her. There was no other chance for him than to find out what was the reason she was calling him that late.
"Hey, Nance, you actually got a point? Or did you decide to call your friend Mark at 2.30 just to have a good laugh? Not that I'd complain, I could use one, too, but I'd really like to know why you are laughing. Is about me? Congrats, go on, but do us both a favor and tell me soon, so we can end this very funny and exciting conversation and let me get back to my hotel room. "
"Oh, Mark," she breathed, still trying to hold back laughter, but getting that he was pretty pissed off at her at the moment, "you, know, a couple of minutes ago I got a phone call from my genius brother who had heard something that was heard by the slutty intern that was said by Addison and that ortho chic you apparently did, too."
"So?" Mark asked innocently, but knowing very well what she was referring to, "Seattle Grace is like a gossip hell and Bailey's interns are the worst gossiping staff of all."
"Yeah, but what Derek told me sounded so ridiculous and fictional that it sounded too much like gossip not to be true. Seriously, Mark? What the hell has gotten into you? You are never gonna last. Never. I'd even go so far as to say that should you make it, I'd fly to Seattle and personally apologize to the slutty intern for calling her slutty intern."
"Why?" Mark sighed. "Why does everyone think I have no chance to make it? Maybe, just maybe, you know, hypothetically, I do actually love her enough to be abstinent for sixty days."
"Because you're Mark," Nancy stated simply, as if that explained everything.
"And that's it. Because I'm Mark. Self-destructive manwhore as Addison put it so nicely a while ago. And that's why I'm destined to be unable to have genuine feelings for someone, or God help it, even love. The worst thing about that theory is, that it could be true," Mark said sadly, hurt evident in his voice.
"Mark..."
"I know that and that it's going to be hard and that there comes a lot of baggage with Addison and me, but I also know that she's the only I could change for, Nancy. So I have to make this work or I never will," he concluded, determined to make his words reality.
There was silence on the other end, before Nancy spoke again, softly and honestly she told him, "Good. That's good, Mark."
Mark smiled at her words and told her he would head home now and he'd call her soon.
"Mark?"
"Love you."
"Love you, too, Nance."
He hung up and walked home, making a mental note to call her more often and to ask Addison if she wanted to fly east sometime in the future. Mark missed home. They say home is were the heart is and even though he loved Addison, he couldn't feel home in Seattle.
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