CHAPTER 4:

Quick note to the anon slexielover1—Thank you so much for your review :) You said some really sweet things, and I greatly appreciate your support. I'm really happy you like my writing, and this story. And, who knows? If you guys pester me enough with ideas, I might continue this one. ;)

Author's Note: To everyone else who reviewed; thank you all very much for the reviews. I'm glad you all liked the last chapter; I hope you like this one as well :)

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"It's a simple choice, Lex. Green or blue. Just pick one."

She sighs, turning around to the far wall. Strong hands on her shoulders flip her around almost immediately, forcing her to face the two stripes of paint they're deciding between.

"Pick," Mark commands. "Green or blue."

Lexie shakes off his hands, turning around again to face the opposite wall, studying the patch of pain in the center of it. "I like the red," she excuses, tilting her head to the side as the studies the color.

"We already ruled out red," Mark reminds her, impatience seeping into his tone. "Green or blue."

"Red," she replies, more confidently this time.

He sighs in exasperation, and they stand side-by-side in silence for a couple minutes. "Fine," he mutters eventually, not bothering to hide the groan in his voice. "Red it is. Even though green would look nicer," he adds in a pointed undertone.

She smiles, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Love you," she whispers sweetly in his ear.

"Uh-huh," he grumbles. "So if you love me so much, then why aren't we painting our bedroom green?"

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Lexie Grey jolts in place when a couple fingers snap crisply in front of her face.

"Decision time," she hears her husband say. "Don't think; just open your eyes and pick."

Lexie attempts to frown in annoyance at him, but she only ends up smiling, remembering how she used to fantasize about moments like this one. "You know I don't like snap decisions," she shoots back. She shoves his hand away with narrowed eyes. "And I also don't like men who snap their fingers in front of my face to get my attention."

"Yes, well, this about a paint color, Lexie." He smirks. "I think you can handle it."

"Why don't we just wait?" She asks for the tenth time in the last hour, rubbing her upper arms indecisively. "Until after the baby comes?"

Mark sighs, crossing his arms in quiet exasperation. "I seriously doubt you're going to want to paint and furnish an entire nursery after giving birth, Lex. We have the day off today," he points out. "Let's get it done now so we won't have to worry about it later."

"We don't even know the sex," Lexie protests. "How can we pick a color?"

Mark grins at the mention, eyeing her. "Well, I know the sex," he replies. "And if you were curious, it just so happens to be a—"

"Shut up!" Lexie all but screeches, her hands flying to cover her ears and block out his words.

Mark laughs to himself, reaching around to hug her from behind. His hands rest, just barely linked together, on the ever-growing swell of her stomach. "Sure you don't wanna know?" He whispers in her ear once her hands have dropped back to her sides. "Aren't you just dying of curiosity?"

Lexie shakes her head, adamant as ever. "No." She turns, eyeing him seriously. "Unlike you, I want to be surprised." Her brown gaze narrows at him dangerously. "And if you so much as drop a hint or slip up at any time," she threatens, "I'll—"

"I know, I know," Mark replies, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry; divorce papers are on hand."

Lexie aims a small smile in his direction, amused at his indifferent tone. A second later, she turns back to the paints, sighing as she stares at the choices. She frowns, eyeing the one of the right with a slight frown. She bites her lip. "You sure you're okay with yellow, Mark?"

He shrugs, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Whatever you want."

"But I thought you hated yellow," Lexie points out.

"And I thought you didn't want to have kids," he replies.

Lexie smiles, turning to meet his eyes. "Tastes change," she whispers, staring at him.

"Exactly," he agrees, kissing her lips briefly. A moment later, they're focused on the paints again. "And if you want the yellow, and this is where our baby is going to live, then I'll learn to love yellow." He smirks. "Just like I learned to love you."

Lexie rolls her eyes, shaking off his embrace. "You've still got a long way to go in that last regard, as far as I'm concerned," she mutters, turning around. She points across the room to the yellow paint cans by the door. Her fingers snap in his face before he has a chance to speak. "Now get a move on."

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"What are you smiling about over there?" Mark asks later that night, glancing over his shoulder to find his wife grinning as she lies, waiting for him, in bed. "Please tell me it's another one of your amazing plans to seduce me."

"No," Lexie laughs. She shakes her head, trying to hide her smile. "It's nothing like that," she replies as he rounds the bed to his side.

"That's what they always say," Mark replies with a small smirk.

She smiles absentmindedly, watching as he pushes back the covers and settles into bed next to her. "It's just…" Lexie trails off, wondering what to say. "I… I used to dream of days like this one," she admits softly.

Mark stares at her, feeling a small smile curve up his lips. It's been five years since she first admitted to dreaming obsessively and endlessly of their future together. five years since he admitted how happy he would be if those dreams ever came true. And almost four years, now, that they'd fulfilled their joint fantasies and gotten married. And in all that time, she'd barely mentioned those dreams.

There were only two standout exceptions.

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The first was on their wedding day.

As they'd danced together, alone in their actions but surrounded by their friends and family, she'd told him how she used to think "it" would never happen between them. He'd smirked, and even though he knew full well what 'it' meant, he asked her anyway. He watched her eyes close and her lips spread in a happy smile; he watched as she looked to the floor beneath them, embarrassed, as she spoke. Our happily ever after, she'd admitted, I thought we would never get it. I thought it would never happen between us. Thinking she'd originally meant simply getting married, her heartfelt words momentarily threw him for a loop. But a moment later, he was drawing her closer with a hand on her lower back, leaning down, and whispering back, Me neither. But we did get it. It has happened.

The second time occurred not so long ago, only five months in the past now, but a bit over three years following their wedding. The warm light of dawn had just barely begun to shine through the half-open blinds in their bedroom window when she'd bent over him, murmuring in his ear. Mark, she'd whispered, her soft voice tickling his ear like the stroke of a feather and waking him slowly, I'm pregnant. With his mind still foggy from sleep, it had taken him a full minute and a half to take in and comprehend her words. The moment the realization hit—and it hit him like a bolt of lightning—Mark found that he couldn't speak a word. Instead, he jolted up in bed, took her face in his hands, and kissed her as if his life—or possibly the life of their unborn child—had depended on it. When they inevitably broke apart for air some time later, his hands clutched her close, not allowing more than an inch of space between them. She hugged him back, and told him, tearfully, how happy he'd made her. She told him how, for the longest time, she never understood why she used to dream of having a child with him. It never aligned with the priorities she had had at the time; it never fit into her life; it never made any sense… But now—she reached for his hand, removing it from her cheek and placing it delicately on her stomach, watching as his fingers spread wide in awe and protection—now I know why. Now I understand.

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Mark smiles at the memories now, reclining on the pillows propped up against their headboard. "And how does our paint-splattered reality match up?" He asks, smiling over at her and wiping a wayward speck of paint from her hairline.

Lexie smiles back, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Even better," she whispers against his skin. "Ever better than I could have ever imagined."

He grins as she pulls away. "And we both know what an imagination you have," he teases. Lexie smiles back briefly, but a moment later, her face has grown reserved and serious. Mark's eyebrows knit together at her peculiar expression.

"Lex?" He wonders, not understanding the source of her distress.

"I—I want to know," she whispers, staring over at him. "I want you to tell me."

"You want me to tell you what?" Mark asks, confused.

"The baby," she replies in a whisper, "is it a boy or a girl?"

Mark Sloan stares back at his wife for a silent, serious moment before a smile breaks across his face. "Nice try, Grey," he smirks. "But I'm not that easy," he reminds her. He turns away to switch off the light, but her hand on his shoulder stops him.

"I'm serious," Lexie tells him, staring into his eyes as he freezes beneath her touch. "I want to know."

"It's only three more months, Lex," Mark reminds her with a smile as he turns back to face her again. "You've held out all this time; I think you can wait a little while longer."

She shakes her head. "I can't. I want to know. I need to know."

He regards her silently before sighing softly. "Where'd this come from?" He inquires, remembering her adamant refusal to know the truth earlier in the day. "Why do you need to know now?"

"We—We finished the nursery today," Lexie explains. She bites her lip momentarily, staring into her husband's eyes. "And I want to know what will be living in it when the time comes, now that it's done."

Mark smirks automatically. "It isn't going to be a monster or something, if that's what you're worried about."

"Mark," Lexie pleads, begging him to take her seriously.

He sighs in resignation. "Lexie…"

"Fine," she mutters a second later, searching for a compromise. "Just—tell me: did we paint the nursery the right color?"

"We painted it yellow," Mark replies neutrally.

"Is that the right color or not?" Lexie demands.

"It's a unisex color," he excuses with a shrug.

Lexie stares at her husband for a long minute, hoping to force the answer from him under the intensity of her gaze. But when she realizes that he won't cave, she huffs loudly, flopping back against the pillows and squeezing her eyes shut, attempting to sleep. Mark watches her for a moment with a faint smile on his face before turning around and hitting the lights. He stares at the ceiling above him as the room is bathed in darkness, forcing himself, second by second, not to fall prey and blurt out the truth.

Around fifteen minutes later, Mark looks to his left. He stares at his wife, studying the easy, measured rise and fall of her chest with each breath she takes. When he's certain she's dead asleep, he leans over, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. He watches, waiting for some sign of consciousness to flicker across her face at the action, but her expression remains completely still. He takes a deep breath.

"It's a girl," he whispers, pressing another kiss to her skin. His hand reaches out to rub her growing stomach gently, and he leans his forehead against her ear. "We're going to have a daughter, Lex." Mark Sloan can't help but smile at saying the words aloud—at finally telling her—even though she can't hear him. He breathes in quietly before lifting his head from hers. He's just about to lie back on his side of the bed when he's frozen in place by what he hears next.

"I knew it," Lexie manages through clenched teeth. "I knew it was a girl. That's the only explanation for you agreeing to paint the room yellow. You hate yellow."

Mark's eyes widen at the sound of her voice, and upon comprehending her words, he feels his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth, rendering him incapable of coherent speech. "L—Lex," he tries to say. "I—"

"Yellow is not a unisex color, Mark Sloan," she growls, her eyes snapping open accusingly. "It's a girl color."

"I thought you were asleep," he manages, shocked into stutters. "I would never have said anything if I knew you were awake, Lexie, I'm so sorry—"

"It is a girl color, Mark!" She repeats angrily. "A girl! A—" She breaks off, choking mid-sentence as she processes her own words. A second later, she's sat up and jumped forward, almost tackling her husband in a desperate hug. "We're having a girl," she cries into his ear, feeling her eyes prick with happy tears. "A little baby girl! Oh—" She buries her head in his shoulder. "Oh my god," she whispers. "We're having a daughter, Mark. A daughter."

Mark feels a smile spread over his face at her joyful words, and he clutches her tighter in response. "Yes, we are."

"She'll be our little girl," Lexie whispers into his neck. "Ours."

Mark's smiling when they pull back, and he lifts his hands to her face, cradling it delicately. "So I take it we aren't getting divorced, then, if you're this happy about it being a her?"

Lexie beams, shaking her head. "I feel more like getting married a second time than worrying over all those contracts and lawyers and court dates."

Mark rolls eyes at her insensitive answer, but she simply laughs, reaching for him again and hugging him tight. "A girl," she whispers again and again. "Our baby's a girl." Though she tries to hide it, her lips keep spreading in a wide smile. "God," she mutters, touching her cheeks, as she finally pulls away from him, "now I know why you went around with that ridiculous grin on your face for an entire month after the doctor told you."

Mark chuckles, bending forward to kiss her cheek. "I'm glad you're happy about it too."

Lexie's smile only widens. "How could I not be? I have a job and a house and a wonderful husband… And we're going to have a baby girl together."

Mark smiles, kissing her lips briefly. "Missing anything?" He wonders a second later. An old smirk turns up his lips. "Yearning for anything, Lex?"

Lexie laughs quietly, shaking her head. "No, no…" She trails off into silence, settling back against the pillows. He does the same, letting the sides of their bodies line up as they lie side by side. A few minutes later, a small, secretive smile—almost as old as his smirk—finds it's way onto Lexie's face. "Hey, Mark?" she ventures quietly.

"Yeah?"

"What time do you have to go in tomorrow?"

"Eight," he replies, turning his head to look at her. "Why?"

Lexie smiles, and after glancing briefly to the clock and realizing that they do indeed have enough time, she rolls on her side towards him. She places her hand against her husband's chest, drawing curling patters with her index finger on the fabric of his t-shirt. "Because I changed my mind."

"Oh, yeah?" Mark murmurs, watching her with a smile spreading on his face.

She nods, lifting her eyes to his. "I do yearn for something," she whispers, staring into his eyes. His lips turn in a easy smile.

"And what's that, Lex?" He wonders quietly.

She closes her eyes momentarily, and he watches as a happy smile blooms on her face. "You," she whispers, seeking out his loving gaze again. "I yearn for you, Mark."

Mark Sloan leans forward, meeting his wife's lips halfway as she reaches out for him. "I yearn for you, too, Lex," he murmurs into the kiss as they gently pull each other closer. "As always."

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Author's Note: Well, this one-shot turned out a lot longer than I expected :) I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please leave me a final review below!