Chapter 8:

Author's Note: Hey, guys. First off, I'm very sorry I took so long to update. With the end of the year approaching, school has been crazy busy and I haven't had much time to write. I had been planning to update Thursday night, but I watched Grey's instead, and I'm sure you can all understand why I wasn't really feeling the ability to write a story like this after watching that.

Anyway, here we go:

Three weeks later…

"Hi," Derek greets the woman standing behind the Archfield's reception desk. "Is Mark Sloan here?"

"In the hotel?" The receptionist clarifies hesitantly, eyeing his bruised face.

"He's a friend," Derek elaborates, having to refrain from rolling his eyes at the contradiction in his own words. "I was wondering what room he was staying in."

"Oh," the woman replies easily, turning to the computer in front of her. "Let me check."

Derek waits patiently in front of the reception area, his eyes roaming over the unfamiliar faces in the lobby as the woman searches on the computer. It's then that he sees the large stack of boxes just inside the entrance. It takes him just a moment to recognize the scrawled handwriting across the cardboard's sides.

"I just started my shift," the woman is saying as she sifts through the online guest index. "So I'm not sure if Mr. Sloan is still—Ah, here." Derek turns to look at her, but is only half as interested as he was before his eyes had begun wandering. "He actually just checked out a couple minutes ago," the receptionist smiles sympathetically. "Maybe you can catch him if he's still heading out?"

"Yeah," he mutters as he watches Mark, now joined by Lexie, carry the last few boxes out into the parking lot. "I'll try that."

Derek spares a small smile for the receptionist before heading back through the hotel bar and towards the back exit. He hears a few shouts, mostly directed as the Seahawks game on TV, as he passes through the drinking men and women, but only one voice stops him.

"You looking for Mark?" The bartender asks, reaching her hand across the counter to grab Derek's arm. He turns to the woman, surprised she knew who he was talking about, before remembering that Mark had been living her for years. He probably knew every member of the staff personally.

"Uh, yeah, I was," Derek replies slowly, stopping by the counter.

"He's outside," the woman informs him, jerking her thumb over her shoulder towards the front doors. "Moving boxes. You can still catch him."

"No, it's okay. I'll…see him at work."

The bartender offers him a knowing smile, realizing why he doesn't want to intrude. "She's nice, isn't she? Not like the others."

"Uh…"

"The girl he's with," the woman smiles. Derek focuses on her nametag instead of her words. Charice. Charice, Derek thinks, I really don't want to be having this conversation with you. "I think they're getting a place." Derek nods, trying not to express too much interest but also not trying to look like he's ignoring her. "Have you met her?"

"Lexie?" Derek corrects automatically. "Yeah, I have. She's…nice."

"She seems good for him," Charice notes. "Normal girl, you know? Not just a one-time thing."

"Right."
"And she got him out of the hotel," Charice laughs good-naturedly. "I was beginning to wonder if that was ever going to happen."

"He…" Derek pauses, wondering what to say. How does this woman know him so well? "He came here a lot? To the bar?"

"You could say that," Charice chuckles lightly before sobering. "I saw him almost every night the first year he was here, back when I was on nightshift. He was lonely, I guess. Used the bar to pick up women."

"Did he ever…meet her…here? Lexie?"

"Oh, yeah," Charice smiles as she reaches to fill a patron's glass before handing it back. "Lots 'o times."

"When?" Derek asks quickly before he can stop himself. "I mean, when did she start…showing up?" He asks again, trying to control his curiosity. Mark, how long have you been lying to me?

"Hm, well, that's a tough one…" Charice takes a minute to think, scratching the vibrant red curls piled on top of her head. "I'd have to say…beginning of January, sometime? But she wasn't with him. She just stopped by for a few shots and then went to the elevators." She smiles at Derek in a way that fills in all the blanks he doesn't even want to know about. "And then…" Charice bites her lip. "You know, I didn't see her for a few weeks. It was a little while till she came back." She shrugs. "I guess they got into some little spat or somethin'."

"This was in January?" Derek clarifies, thinking back.

"Yeah," Charice responds. "Why?"

"Nothing…" Derek mutters. Keep Little Sloan out of Little Grey it my point, he remembers telling Mark. So he had listened to me, Derek thinks incredulously. How is that even possible?

"All right, well I gotta get back," Charice tells him, gesturing to the register. "I hope you find him."

"Yeah," Derek murmurs, his mind spinning miles ahead of his words. "Me too."

…

A week earlier…

…

"Can I talk to you?" Derek asks, pushing the scrub room door open softly. Mark looks up, suppressing a sigh at the sight of his ex-best friend.

"I'm about to go into surgery, Shep. What do you want?"

Derek looks his friend up and down, not quite believing what he's about to ask. His voice is oddly soft when he finally speaks. "Do you love her?"

"Excuse me?" Mark asks, his head snapping towards the bruised neurosurgeon.

"You heard me," Derek replies, stepping instead the small room and letting the large wooden door swing shut behind him. "Do you love her?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Mark asks tiredly, bracing his weight against the sinks as he looks away, staring directly ahead without meeting Derek's eye.

"Because…"

"Because what?" Mark asks loudly, whipping around to face his childhood friend. "You think I'm using her? Really? After that whole fight, after what I did to your face?" He crosses his arms, staring his friend in the eye. "Why would I go through all that for someone I didn't care about?"

"I didn't ask if you cared about her," Derek replies, struggling to keep his voice even. "That is obvious. I asked if you loved her. Those are two very different things."

"Yes, I am aware of the differences."

"Mark, look…"

"Save it, Derek," Mark growls angrily, shoving a scrub cap onto his head. "I've got to go to surgery and from what it looks like, you've got some lawyers to meet with. But know this: I'm donewith you; I am finished. If I hadn't fallen for Little Grey, you would have found some other way not to respect me and you always have. To you, I'm always gonna be the charity case the Shepherd's had to take in." He sighs. "Now, at least, we don't have to pretend to be friends."

"Hey, Mark, look, all I'm saying is you could have talked to me about this—"

"Oh, that's rich," Mark cuts in. "No way in hell you would have heard me out."

"You don't know that."

Mark quirks an eyebrow, staring down the other man. "I don't? Really?"

Derek presses his lips into a hard line, but before he can think of a retort, the plastic surgeon has already left the room and moved on.

…

"Have you at least told her yet?" Mark wonders, pulling into the Grey's driveway fifteen minutes later. Lexie shakes her head as her guilty eyes meet his.

"When would I have had time to do that, Mark?"

"Great," he mutters, unbuckling his seat belt. "This will be a breeze."

"I told you: you didn't have to come."

"Then would have driven the getaway car when you needed a fast escape?" Mark smirks, cutting the engine. "You always need a proper getaway plan for situations like these."

"Good thing I can count on you to run when the going gets tough," Lexie jokes, stepping out of the car.

"I'm not running," Mark replies seriously, taking her hand as they head towards the house.

"I know," Lexie replies, the corners of her mouth flicking upward at his assurance. She stops, looking at him once before ascending the steps. "Last chance," she warns.

"I'm good," Mark replies, following her to the top of the porch. "I can take it."

"If you're sure…" Lexie mutters under her breath, opening the front door with her key. "Hey, Mer," she calls out. "You here?"

"She's gone," a male voice yells from the kitchen. Lexie can hear Mark let out an audible sigh when he realizes neither Meredith nor Derek are home. "What are you…" Alex trails off as he walks down the main hallway, his eyes darting to Mark. "What's Sloan doing here?"

"I'm here to get my stuff, Alex," Lexie replies, resting her fingers gently on Mark's wrist to tell him to hold back whatever biting response he'd had planned on replying.

"You're moving out?" Alex asks, eyes widening in surprise. "To where?"

"An apartment on Marbury," Lexie replies, heading up the stairs. "Are there still boxes in the closet?"

"Cardboard ones? Yeah, on the bottom shelf." Alex stares at his now former roommate for a hard second. "Wait, you're not moving in with O'Malley again, are you?"

Lexie sighs, feeling Mark's eyes, as well as Alex's, on her. "No, I'm not moving in with George," Lexie answers.

"Then…" It takes Alex a moment, but soon his eyes are on Mark's. "No," he mutters with a slight chuckle.

"Bravo, Karev, you cracked the case," Mark notes sardonically.

"No way," Alex laughs. "This isn't happening."

"Believe what you want," Lexie tells him. "But I'm going to go get those boxes." Lexie ascends the stairs, followed by Mark, and leaves Alex on the bottom landing without another word. He stares after them, slightly mystified, before heading back into the kitchen, shaking his head the whole way.

…

"That was pretty painless," Lexie notes two hours later as she tapes up the last of the boxes.

"The boxes or Karev?" Mark asks, glancing around the now-bare room to see if they missed anything.

"Alex," Lexie confirms, "wasn't too bad."

"Yeah, except when he heard you were moving out and immediately thought you were living with O'Malley—"

"Mark," Lexie cuts in.

"—despite the fact that I, your boyfriend—I am your boyfriend, by the way. You know that, right?"

"Mark."

"I was standing right next to you, Lex, as you told him you were moving out. He didn't think to put us together?"

"He knows we're together," Lexie replies, taking the last couple boxes down to the second floor. "He was just screwing with you."

"Sure he was," Mark mutters, following her down. Lexie turns around, lifting her hands and taking a deep breath.

"I don't care if he did or didn't mean what he said. Can we just stop talking about Alex, please?"

"Anytime," Mark replies, leaning forward and kissing her softly. Lexie smiles into the kiss, enjoying it for a moment before breaking away and heading towards the pile of boxes.

"Come on," Lexie grins at his pouting face. "The sooner we get these boxes outside, the sooner we can get out of here and go—"

"Home," Mark finishes. Lexie's eyes dart to his, wide for a second before her smiles reaches them.

"Yeah," Lexie grins. "Home."

...

"You know, you have a lot more stuff than I do," Mark notes as he carries the last few boxes out to the car.

"That's because I haven't been living in hotel for the past two years," Lexie replies, leaning up against the car and scribbling a note for Meredith. "I've been able to actually furnish a room."

"Just because you live in a house doesn't mean you need all this stuff," Mark complains as he tries again to shut the overstuffed trunk.

"We can make two trips," Lexie offers.

"Not a chance," Mark replies before successfully shutting the trunk. "You ready?"

"Yeah, one sec," Lexie replies. "I just have to leave my key."

"I'll be in the car."

"Okay," Lexie calls, already heading into the house. "I'll be right back." She walks back into the empty house, taking a direct path back to the kitchen. Lexie debates for a moment where to leave her note—tequila cabinet would be best, seeing as that's where Meredith spends most of her time—but Lexie finally decides to just leave it, and her key, out on the center island in plain sight.

"So that's it?"

Lexie spins around, jumping out of her skin at the sound of her sister's voice behind her. "M—Meredith?" Lexie manages. "When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago. Alex texted me, saying that you were moving out." She nods to the note on the counter. "So you were going to leave me with your key and skip town?"

"I'm not skipping town, I'm just moving to a different part of it."

"And what part is that, exactly?"

"Marbury Avenue," Lexie replies automatically. "It's a few blocks—"

"I know where it is," Meredith snaps. Lexie regards her sister for a moment, crossing her arms.

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Meredith replies.

"Look, Mer, I'm sorry about you and Derek—"

"This is not about Derek," Meredith shoots back angrily. Even though she knows her sister is lying, Lexie decides to let the topic drop. If Meredith wants to leave this on a bad note, then let her.

"Well…" Lexie begins softly, stepping away from the counter. "Mark's waiting…"

"Ah. Mark's waiting. Of course he is."

Lexie raises her chin at her sister's mocking tone. "Yes, he is waiting. And we're moving in together. So I should go."

"You're moving in to an apartment on Marbury…with Mark Sloan?" Meredith scoffs. "Okay."

"Yes, we're moving in together, Mer. It isn't that foreign of a concept."

"And next you're going to tell me you're in love with him," Meredith replies sarcastically, hands on her hips as she rolls her eyes. Lexie freezes for a moment, her eyes locking with her sister's. Lexie watches, unmoving, as the smirk falls off Meredith's face.

"I have to go," Lexie mutters a second later. She walks past her sister without another word and is out the front door in less than twenty seconds despite the voice calling her name from the kitchen. Her feet pound down the front steps and out across the front lawn, marching all the way to Mark's car without hesitation.

"Hey," he says as she gets in, slamming the door behind her. "Sorry," he mutters, reversing the car and knowing where her anger is coming from. "I was going to warn you, but…"

"It's fine," Lexie replies, turning to him. She puts her hand atop his, moving the gearshift to park. Mark's eyes snap questioningly to hers.

"Lex, what are you—"

His voice is cut off as Lexie's mouth descends on his, her hands clutching his face to hers. It takes Mark a moment to respond to the sudden gesture, but soon he's kissing back, his hands pulling her closer across the seats. It's a few minutes before she moves back, and when she does, Lexie leans back in her seat as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened. Mark stares at her for a few seconds before putting the car back in reverse, shaking his head as he backs up.

"You going to tell me what that was for?" He asks as he puts the car in drive with a large smirk on his face.

"We had an audience," Lexie shrugs. Mark turns his head to face her, surprised in more than one way. His eyes flit to the porch, seeing Meredith's blonde hair disappear behind the screen door.

"Ah," Mark notes with a smirk. "And you wanted to give 'em a show?"

"I was proving a point, Mark," Lexie rolls her eyes. "To Meredith."

"So youget off on that, do you?"

"This isn't what about what gets me off or not," Lexie mutters. "It's about us moving in together and not caring what anyone else thinks." She raises her head to look clearly out the front windshield. "So let's go."

Mark stares at her determined posture for a moment before shaking his head, amused, and pulling out of the Grey's driveway. "Let's go," he echoes faintly.

…

A week earlier

…

"You sure about this?" Lexie asks, touring her way through the apartment's various rooms. The heels of her shoes click and clack across the polished hardwood floors as she pretends to examine the previous owners' paint job on the walls. This is the fifth apartment they've looked at in the last two weeks.

"I don't know," Mark replies, glancing around. His conversation with Derek is still churning through his mind. "It's a nice place, but—"

"I didn't mean specifically this apartment, Mark," Lexie cuts quietly, her eyes still on the walls.

"I know."

Mark's voice is so open and oddly light that Lexie turns her entire body around to face him. He isn't quiet or reserved about this like she is. "What…"

"Look, I'm serious about this," Mark informs his girlfriend, meeting her by the pale yellow wall. He looks down at her as he speaks, making sure she takes in every word. "I'm serious about you. Saying we should move in together and saying…" He glances down. "And saying 'I love you' wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing. I'm in this, okay?"

"Okay," Lexie whispers after a tense moment. Mark continues staring at her, trying to find a way to make her see this isn't temporary. Nothing about her in his life is temporary.

"I'll be here for as long as you want, okay? I don't see myself leaving this anytime soon." He pauses, staring at her for a few moments before blinking and looking towards the far windows. "Or any time at all, really."

"Mark." Lexie lays a hand on his hip, trying to find some way to admit to him how closely their interests really line up.

"This is the most real relationship I've ever been in, Lex. This means too much to me." He tilts his head towards hers. "I'm not just going to cast you aside," he whispers. "I'm not going to get bored. I'm not going to leave you."

"I know," she replies after a moment. "I believe you."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is…" Lexie trails off, turning back to the pale yellows walls in front of them. "The problem is, I really hate yellow."

"That can be fixed," Mark smiles, wrapping an arm lightly around her waist.

"So what do you think?" Lexie asks finally. Mark takes a deep breath, thinking he would need the courage. Upon finding that he doesn't seem to need any artificial courage with her, Mark speak the truth.

"I think yes," he answers her.

"You think we could live here?" Lexie presses. Mark turns to her, stepping forward until they're just inches apart and then letting his lips drop down to hers.

"I definitely think we could live here," he murmurs when they pull apart a few seconds later.

"Together?" Lexie clarifies.

"Together," Mark affirms, holding her close.

…

"It's perfect," Lexie whispers, smiling as she steps into the apartment. Mark closes the door behind them, moving to stand beside his girlfriend.

"It's an empty space," he notes. Lexie ignores his comment, moving instead to press her palms to her chest and bring her lips to his.

"It's perfect for us," she whispers against his mouth. "You can't deny that."

"I really can't," Mark whispers back, his hands drifting to her waist as hers cradle his smiling face.

Author's Note: I hope you guys liked it! Please review and leave your thoughts!