Talking Dreams
Seattle, Washington 2009 - S5E17
They talked all night, that first night. The one where he was wearing that old grey shirt and she was taking her clothes off. Sure, there had been sex too. But they talked. He didn't remember talking like that with anyone else. Usually he either got up to shower, or he turned over and went to sleep. Today, when he walked up to the OR board, she was standing there swaying a little. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, catching her off-guard. She shivered, not turning around because his hand was on her lower back. There was something endearing about the fact that they didn't even have to pretend not to talk to each other anymore. "Mark, what are you doing?" She said between tiny breaths because her throat felt suddenly clammy and there was a distinct fluttering in her stomach. She barely squeezed the words out at all because he was breathing on the back of her neck.
"Oh nothing, I'm just checking the board for surgeries."
She tried to restrain a laugh. "No, you're torturing me, I-I'm not doing this. I can't-"
But there was no one looking. No one watching. It was the middle of the night, and they both happened to be on a shift rather than at home. So a part of her really wanted to give in to him. It was a pity she had a patient to checkup on in a few minutes. "Oh but you can, Lexie there's no one here."
He pressed his lips to her temple, an awfully sweet gesture from a man known as a whore to most of the employees of the hospital. "Mark-" She trailed off looking an excuse, but finding nothing as the fluttery distraction of his breath started up again. "I know you're doing that on purpose."
"So what, if I am. Am I not allowed to stand next to my girlfriend?" He knew he was being childish, but she was young and childish too.
She leaned back into him, the length of her body arching as she found comfort in his lab coat. His scrubs were warm, like he was a blazing furnace beneath them. Even in bed he was hot, heat rippling off of him like a bonfire. Getting burnt was the last of her worries. Her head lay against his neck, his stubble prickling her cheek. "I don't care right now if anyone is watching," she whispered back to him. He felt the meaning of her words roll through him like a butterfly landing on his skin.
"Oh Doctor Grey, are you flirting with me? Dirty, public flirting?" He hedged.
"This is not public, there's no one here."
"Just dirty then?"
She just nodded and let his hands caress her sides, up and down with the movement of her pulse. Her nerves electric. Until she heard footsteps treading softly on the linoleum. She pulled forward, out of his grasp. She took one last longing look at the OR board and then strolled off down the hallway. "See you later, Doctor Sloan."