They stay there for nearly half an hour before the cold night air finally drives them back inside. At first, they say little; the whole of their communication is the slight stroking of her thumb by his. Words, when they come, are insignificant on the surface: queries about work and family, stories of common acquaintances. To an uninformed listener, it would seem like small talk at its finest, but both participants know the words themselves aren't important; it's what they represent.

Hope.

They separate when they re-enter the house, with Mark going to check on Sammy while Lexie returns to the dining room in search of pie.

Meredith catches her eye as she reclaims her seat, but Lexie only shrugs and picks up her fork. It's too soon to discuss this turn of events with anyone; she hasn't yet processed how she feels about it herself, and in any event, now is not the time or place.

The pie, baked by Miranda Bailey, is pumpkin with just the right amount of spice, topped with whipped cream. It's delectable, but unfortunately for Lexie, she's far too distracted to even taste it.

It's a fun evening, one of those nights where the perfect combination of food, drink and company is found and everything just works. Petty grievances and past slights are set aside, hospital politics are left at the hospital, and everyone present takes a moment to appreciate just how lucky they are to have such good people in their lives.

After dinner, the adults assembled exchange a few presents amongst themselves, and most of them have brought a little something for the two children in attendance. Derek, after a few glasses of spiked eggnog, brings out his old college guitar and the room fills with cheerily off-key Christmas carols.

Sammy falls asleep on the floor of the den around eight, and Mark reluctantly prepares to leave until Meredith convinces him to instead carry the child upstairs to sleep in the vacant guestroom. Following his relocation the remaining adults move to the den and by eleven o'clock, the party is winding down. All the other guests have left. Derek is half asleep, sprawled in his lazy boy with his eyes closed, though still contributing occasionally to the conversation and Meredith is cross-legged on the floor in front of the stereo, playing DJ. She's moved past Christmas carols and for the last half hour has been favouring slow bluesy jazz numbers. Mark and Lexie are on opposite ends of the sofa, but somehow that hasn't prevented the occasional grazing of hands.

He's stayed far later than he intended to, hoping for another chance to talk privately with her. But now, as he looks around and realizes he's the only one left in attendance who isn't going to be sleeping there, it seems unlikely that chance is going to come.

He clears his throat. "It's getting late. I'll just go get Sam and we'll be on our way." Suddenly tired, he pushes his hand hard against the arm of the sofa as he rises.

"Leave him Mark," Derek suggests from the easy chair. "Come back in the morning for him."

He considers this, and then shakes his head. "He'll be scared, waking up alone in a strange place." The idea of his little boy alone and scared in an unfamiliar room is far more unpleasant than the thought of the tears that may come from waking him now. He'll be asleep again anyway, five minutes after the car starts moving.

"Or you could stay too," Lexie suggests. Mark's mouth drops open and Meredith, well aware of the currents running between her sister and husband's best friend, chortles in amusement. Looking from one of them to the other, Lexie blushes. "In the guestroom, guys. Mark could stay in the guestroom with Sammy. There's a big bed in there," she adds defensively.

"Oh," Mark says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Actually, yeah. That would be good. If that's okay with you guys," he adds, turning to Derek and Meredith.

"Of course," Meredith says, rising. "You know you're always welcome. Come on old man," she says, poking her husband. Bedtime. Lexie, can you get Mark anything he needs? Blankets, a glass of water, a warm body on a cold night…"

He catches her winking at Lexie as she follows Derek up the stairs.

"So…" Lexie says once they're alone. "Do you need anything? Cause if you're good then I'm just going to go…" she trails off and gestures vaguely toward the staircase.

He considers this for a second then grins. "Yeah, now that you mention it, there is this one thing I need…"

He's doing it again. He's got that same look on his face that left her gasping for breath at the mall a couple of days ago. It's characterized by a certain gleam in his eye that tells her he's remembering all the intimate things they'd once done together. And now, damnit, he's making her think about all those same things: the kisses, the touches, the pleasure they'd given each other. No one, before or since, has ever been able to make her feel the way Mark did. It wasn't just that he was technically skilled, which of course, he was. It was the bond between them that made everything so much more intense.

Their eyes connect and she can feel the heat rising in her body, starting with a tingling in her toes and ending with the flushing of her cheeks. And in between, every erogenous zone she possesses has started humming.

And just like that, the nerves that had calmed somewhat following their moment alone outside are back in full force.

"There…there is?" she stutters. Don't ask, Lex, she tells herself. Don't ask. "Wh…what would that be?" she asks. Idiot!

She holds her breath as he takes a step forward and opens his arms. "Come here, Little Grey."

And then, without ever having made a conscious choice, she's in his arms. Home, she feels more than thinks. This is home. She sighs, feeling all the tension leave her body as she rests her cheek against his chest. Beneath his sweater, his heartbeat pounds, strong and fast in her ear. Her arms are around his waist, his arms cross over her back and one hand is stroking her hair.

"I miss you, Lex." His voice is low and she can feel the vibration of it against her cheek. She tightens her grip around his waist.

"I miss you too," she confesses. Then, pulling away slightly so she can look up at him, she adds, "This is bad, isn't it?"

He chuckles softly, "Yeah. It's bad. But in a good kind of way."

When he brushes her bangs out of her eyes and then leans down to press his lips against hers, she forgets why exactly she ever thought it was bad. There's nothing bad about this. This…this is all kinds of good. Her arms leave his waist and move up to cradle his face. Scraping her fingers against his rough stubble, her mouth opens to his probing tongue and she darts her own forward to invite his in. She feels his hands sliding up and down her back over her silky dress, each down stroke getting closer and closer to her ass until eventually they come to rest there, holding her tight against him.

He starts walking then, moving them along until the backs of her knees meet the couch. Automatically, she starts to sit, but he stops her, turning them around so he can sit first, then pulling her down to straddle him. She rests her forehead against his and tries to catch her breath, but he has other ideas. Sliding his hands along her bare thighs under her dress, he leans forward to kiss his way up her neck. She shivers and tilts her head to the side, leaning into his caress.

She could stay this way forever.

Except, of course, she can't.

"Mark," she says and it comes out sounding more like a moan than a request for him to stop. A minute passes before she tries again. "Mark." Reluctantly, she pulls away and looks down at him.

His eyes are hooded in arousal. "Hmm," he half-growls, craning his neck to try and reach her lips.

"I have to go back tomorrow," she says sadly.

"What? No," he shakes his head. "Unacceptable." He leans forward, tries to kiss her again, but she can't allow it. Resting her hands lightly against his chest, she holds him in place.

"My flight, it's at noon. I have to work on Monday. I…"

He reaches out and rests a finger on her lips to silence her. "Stay, Lexie. Stay at least until New Year's. We can figure this out. I know in here," he says, putting his hand over his heart, "if we can just start the year together, we can figure the rest of this out. I don't know how, but we can. This is real. This is important. Stay, Lex. Stay 'til New Year's. Please."

His gaze is strong and steady. Slowly, his finger drops away from her lips.

God, she loves this man. If she stays, even for a couple more days, she doesn't know how she'll ever leave.

But in the end, it's an easy decision.

"Okay. Okay, I'll stay."

The End

A/N: What happens after New Years? Well, I'll leave that up to your imaginations. Thank you for reading :)