You, Love

Chapter 9: SexyBack

Mark Sloan's arrival to Seattle Grace Hospital wasn't just a surprise, it was a bad surprise.

It had been an otherwise normal day: drive with Alex, round with Addison. But as she and Addison approached the front desk, Addison stopped short, and Fallyn's heart sank into her stomach.

Sloan was talking to Meredith. It was unclear if it was through some twist of fate, or if Sloan had an instinct for causing the most drama in any given situation. Addison muttered something mutinous under her breath.

They were close, Sloan advancing on Meredith while she charted, half–listening to him. Still, they were close.

"Dr. Montgomery–Shepherd," Fallyn whispered. Addison's eyes were glued to Sloan, but standing in the adjacent office, also watching the exchange, was Derek. And there was murder in his eyes.

"So," said Sloan. Fallyn hadn't missed that voice. "You ever go out with coworkers?"

He'd said it loudly. Meredith looked around in a guilty way. Yes, she did.

"I try not to," was Meredith's reply. Always classy.

Sloan smiled that shit–eating, I'm–flirting–with–you–smile. Fallyn had been on the end of it just once, and once was enough. "Well, it's a good thing I don't work here."

"Dear God." Addison scoffed.

They shook hands, making a formal introduction. And Fallyn wasn't sure how Derek had managed to move so fast, but one moment he was in the office, and the next he was punching Sloan in the face. Sloan went down hard.

Derek looked a little surprised with himself as he reared back, shaking out the hand he'd hit Sloan with. He looked at Meredith first, then over at Addison. Both were frozen in shock.

Addison broke first. "I can't do this," she said to Fallyn, shoving the charts she'd been holding into her arms. She turned away from the scene. "Make sure Mark's okay."

"What—?" There was quite literally nothing less Fallyn wanted to do. But Addison was her boss, and she had already taken flight.

There was nothing for it. Fallyn left the charts on the edge of the front desk and entered the fray.

Derek had also fled the scene of the crime, no doubt going where Addison had. Or maybe he was just avoiding the consequences of his actions. Faintly, as Fallyn approached Sloan and the still–stunned Meredith, she wondered if Derek had damaged his hand. It had been his right, after all— his operating hand. Fallyn wasn't sure what she was hoping for.

She gave Meredith a tight smile as she got nearer. Sloan was still on the ground, touching his face like he couldn't believe he'd actually been punched off his feet.

"Facial lac," Fallyn told him. She savored the last seconds before he realized who she was. "Two inches across. Let me clean that up for you."

Sloan did a double–take. To his credit, he remembered her voice, and he was already smiling as he turned around.

"Addison Junior." She hated that nickname. Hated him. "Is that really you?"

"That's me." Fallyn wasn't sure if Sloan knew her actual name or not. But she helped him to his feet nonetheless, not liking how his hands and gaze lingered. That was just Dr. Sloan— she knew that, even back in New York, he didn't mean much by it. He would sleep with her in a heartbeat if she ever showed interest, though. It was an odd dichotomy.

As she led Sloan away from the front desk and the onlookers— everyone was looking at them— Fallyn was half aware of Meredith following behind them. She wasn't sure why, though. "How are you, Dr. Sloan?" She asked conversationally.