A/N: Title is from The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and has absolutely nothing to do with anything. Enjoy-
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Justify
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"I think I slept with Sloan." Cristina spews storming in through Meredith's kitchen like a hurricane and tossing her sopping wet brown leather jacket on the back of a well used chair.
"You think?" Izzie replies, pulling her head up from her measuring cup of flour for the pie crust she insisted on making from scratch at eleven pm. It's been one of those days. They need pie and she needs something to do with her hands before she chews all of her fingernails off again.
"I'm gonna...go." Derek chuckles, kissing the top of Meredith's head and bailing as surreptitiously as possible before he can be called before judge and jury about the reason why his "best friend" is such a duchebag and never calls any woman back after screwing them senseless.
"Ok...no I did but I didn't mean to. He was just all standing there and whatever...it happened." Cristina glares at Meredith but all she can do is shrug in true Meredith style. She's not passing judgment, the man is damn fine.
"Was it at least good?" Izzie questions curiously. She's not getting any lately, the least she can do is get a few details for her over active imagination but by the way Cristina glares at her she knows she isn't getting any and she is on thin ice by assuming she could ask.
"What was I supposed to do? He's my boss." Cristina justifies and reaches across the counter for a succulent raspberry that Izzie plans on using shortly.
"I thought you were working with Derek today." Meredith states as she watches Cristina's hand get slapped.
"Did he tell you you had to sleep with him? Because that's sexual harassment and other things and he's a pig-" Izzie starts.
"Yes and no." Cristina replies, cutting her short.
"You weren't with Derek? Were you with Hahn today then?" Meredith babbles, completely enticed with her own one-sided conversation.
"Yes he did make you sleep with him or no he didn't? I'm confused."
"No he didn't and yes I was with your-your whatever it is that you two are to each other today Meredith. You're getting creepy, crazy stalkerish lately. Not a good look." Cristina nods.
"He hasn't broken up with Rose yet." Meredith sighs. "She had some sort of family emergency and had to fly out of town last week and he doesn't want to upset her right now. I thought it was going to be us and now-"
"Ok, I have a problem. It's my turn and there is never a good time to break up with someone so he should just do it already so you can go live your happily ever after thing out." Cristina announces ingenuously, dismissing Meredith's subject before they all get sidetracked.
"I don't know if I would call it a problem." Izzie smirks. "What? He's hot. You're single. Go for it."
"It's Sloan." Meredith crinkles her nose.
"Yeah tell me you haven't thought about screwing McDreamy's friend." Cristina sniggers and stealthily extracts a strawberry from Izzie's watchful eyes.
"Good point." Meredith nods. "So...what are you going to do?"
"Drink?" Cristina's eyes glimmer and shift to Meredith's always ready liquor cupboard. Times like these, situations like these can only be cured with ridiculous amounts of alcohol and equally asinine talks about how men and their penises ruin everything...including her stellar reputation. Now she's slept with two of her bosses and if Derek wasn't with Meredith who knows what else she'd have to be held accountable for.
"I can work with that." Meredith replies, voice as calm as the roaring bay miles away. It's going to be a long night and a drunk Cristina is not always a nice and cooperative Cristina.
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"I should call him." Cristina slurs reaching for the phone as Izzie unsteadily makes her way to the floor and blocks the attempt. They nominated having no one sober tonight and as the hours wear into the morning light it is looking like a worse and worse idea. Drunk dialing people however is the best idea Meredith has had in the last thirty minutes. So far Derek has gotten two voice mails (about Rose), George one (about how Izzie is over, so over him) and then The Emerald City bar had a sparkling conversation with all three women. Joe being patient and understanding, offered to send Alex home to them to which they replied haughtily that they didn't need any man tonight (least of all Alex if you asked Izzie's opinion).
"You should no-call him." Meredith hiccups and shakes her head and the room spins leaving her grasping at furniture to make all the fun stop moving.
"He's not worth it." Izzie chimes in four decibels louder than any person should ever consider talking.
"Here here!" Cristina laughs and raises one of the long ago discarded bottles from the wood planks beneath her numb ass.
"You know what we should do?" Meredith asks with a wry grin.
"I hate that look." Izzie answers, taking another hit off of the near empty bottle of tequila in front of them. She coughs and sputters still unused to Meredith's favorite poison.
"We should dance!" She grabs around the empty pie tin on the coffee table (which was a delicious feast if Izzie does say so) and finds the appropriate remote. She cranks the noise louder than necessary and sways back and forth on her feet as her hands strike the air like an imaginary punching bag.
"That is not dancing." Izzie chuckles and stands to join her roommate. Sometimes it's nice to be in with the in crowd. Tonight she's taking what she can get.
"Come on Ina...you'll feel mucho better." Meredith snorts and tries to pull the dark haired woman from the floor.
Cristina ambles upward and sets her feet the beat that drones on in her head but her heart it somewhere else entirely and that little fact is enough to make her want to drink till death mercifully comes and retrieves her ghost.
She is not falling for Mark X. Sloan. Ever.
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"Mucho better" went out the window at six-thirty this morning when Cristina was paged in by one inexplicably cranky Miranda Bailey. One apartment complex fire (that helped sober her up quick, fast and in a hurry) and an extremely uncomfortable working expedition with none other than Mark Sloan leaves her scrubbing out with an extremely wide awake surgeon breathing down her neck. All she can feel is the heat radiating out from underneath those damn blue scrubs. The issue is that she knows exactly what is under those fucking scrubs and it is the only thing she has thought about in the last twelve some odd hours.
She listens to the water spray the metal as their hands hang loosely under the stream. It was never like this with Burke. Burke was a mutual admiration. He was different. Just different than this crazy animal lust that has her wanting to pin him against the wall right here and now and take him in front of the entire surgical staff still within the operating room. Yes lust. That's what it is. She grabs at the paper towel choosing to ignore the way his eyes are burning a hole in her wild black hair.
She storms out of the room determined to keep her pants on, her legs crossed and her mind free from wandering.
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"Oh...oh god. Ok. No more." Cristina exhales breathlessly reaching around for her clothes that are strewn around the on call room as Mark lightly sucks on her soft neck. The plan was so much better in her head. She lasted until after lunch and then he was simply there again, staring at her with a knowing smirk and there was only one thing she could do to wipe that smug look off his face. She replaced it with his eyes rolling back into his head as he reached his peak and now she feels justified in her decision. They're even now. He got his one turn, now she has had hers.
Two can play his game and Cristina doesn't lose.
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"I think I have a thing for Yang." Mark tosses out to Derek as they ride the elevator down quietly.
"Who don't you have a thing for Mark? First it's Hahn, then that one nurse and now Yang." Derek replies mindlessly both choosing to look over the fact that Addison was the first on his list.
But regrettably for Mark this is on an entirely different playing level than the bullshit he pulled with the redhead. She was good but never quite like what he is experiencing. There's the mandatory new shiny quality to the whole situation but there is also something else. Something he can't put his finger on. Something he has never felt before but is so well acquainted with now that it's become a drug addiction. One week and he would probably hunt down and preform a lobotomy on Burke if she asked. Anything to get the high she provides.
It scares him shitless.
"No. This is different Derek."
"You always say that Mark, remember when you were going to marry Julie Snider because she had the best blow job technique you had ever seen or experienced or whatever?"
"Who?" Mark furrows his brow. Julie...there were too many Julies but he's tired of Julies.
"Exactly my point." The doors slide open and Derek leaves his friend slumped against the cool wall to think it over.
--
"So you're not sleeping with him anymore right?" Meredith asks popping a peanut into her mouth and plopping herself into the stool next to Cristina at Joe's.
"Right."
"How's that going?" Izzie asks, diving in and scooping up Cristina's untouched beer. The girl is worse than when Burke left. She's a drooling zombie.
"Good."
"So you screwed him again then?" Meredith grins.
"Something like that but...I'm done. He's not even my type...he's too pretty. He's prettier than me, right? I mean I can't. No."
"He is pretty." Izzie nods and then dashes away to join the growing group of dart throwers.
"He's smart, he's a nice guy Cristina. Maybe you should give it a chance." Meredith shrugs and orders a nice bottle of tequila. She doesn't work tomorrow and Derek just flew out to Maryland or some stupid state to be the shoulder Rose needs to cry on. Ridiculous.
"Maybe you shouldn't be giving out relationship tips." Cristina smiles at herself and then notices her drink missing, "Bitch. Joe can I get another?!" She screams halfway down the bar counter.
"I'm just sayin' Mark is a nice guy."
"Since when?" Cristina challenges.
"Since, I don't know. Always, as long as I've known him."
"Yes because nice people break up their best friend's marriages and then move to the same town to continue the torturing routine."
Meredith pauses in thought, she never thought Cristina listened half the time when she talked about Derek. Guess you learn something new everyday. "Fine, do whatever you want."
"I will." Cristina stretches out her neck and reaches for her new liquid courage.
"He's a nice guy Cristina." Meredith mentions again thirty minutes later when her friend's gaze drifts to the door and follows the cool draft of Mark making his way to an empty table with no nurses flanking his shoulders.
--
Somewhere in between the "he's a real charming gentlemen" speech and getting screwed upside down and backwards in Mark's hotel room every night Cristina broke down and gave in shutting off all the alarm bells in her head but she's not about to lose her ground in this conversation. "We aren't a couple."
"You live here! We eat out together every night and...sometimes I read to you."
"You do not." She looks at him like he's crazy.
"You may be asleep when that happens but that's not the point." Mark's smile twists into a crooked, ashamed grin.
"That's disturbing and Ted Bundy-esc." Cristina marches back to the closet and rifles around for a new pair of underwear only to find that she needs to go shopping again and is definitely going to have to go commando today. "Damn it."
"Second drawer on the right." Mark says softly and waits for her to open the light colored wood. The left is his side, the right hers, she just doesn't know it.
"You did my laundry?"
"Well technically John did it."
"You gave my underwear to the guy at the front desk?" Silently she smirks to herself, she knew John was looking at her weird for some reason. Now she just has to find a way to make him overly uncomfortable about the situation. That will be fun tonight.
"I just think it's fucking ridiculous that a twenty-eight year old can't figure out a washing machine but she can do a running whip stitch on a heart so yeah I gave it to John. He has a name. And how spoiled do you have to be to not ever have been forced to learn how to do laundry? You're a grown woman." Mark slouches into the chair next to the red draped windows.
"I know how to do laundry. I choose not to. And I'm not spoiled." Cristina airs haughtily and slips into a pair of green boyshorts. She's not continuing the conversation completely naked because that never gets them anywhere but late and she needs to be at the hospital in half an hour, no excuses. "And look at you! You haven't even made cereal once in the last three months that I've known you. At least I can feed myself. Spoiled, please." She gropes around for a pair of jeans and purple long sleeve shirt the wear under her scrubs.
"Hey you'd be lucky if I cooked for you. I'm a good cook." Cristina looks up at him and he chuckles, "Ok screw it. I'm a shitty cook. I could make you burnt toast and coffee with grounds in it and maybe I don't know how to wash laundry correctly either. Last time I ever tried everything turned pink but who cares when we have John and a set of perfectly nice restaurants to make sure we are nourished."
"This is what I'm saying." Cristina exclaims exasperatedly, arms in the air.
"Good then we're a couple." He hurries upright, kisses her soundly, making sure to leave her entirely breathless so that she can't object on his way out the door.
Cristina listens to the latch click and runs a finger over her tingling lips. That was definitely a new kiss with a spark that she can't deny. "Wait!" She shouts hurrying to the door and speaking before she see him, "What just happened!"
"Dr. Yang." A man clears his throat as she feels a cool breeze across her bare stomach. Yes, being fully dressed before chasing down your boyfriend? in a hallway probably does have its perks. "These are for you."
She takes the smelly potted fuchsia orchids and snaps the door shut without saying goodbye to poor John who now has the correct visions for his dirty daydreams.
Happy three month and two day anniversary.
Love you,
Mark
She feels her fists ball up as she reads the second to last word. Son of a bitch. It's love. The stupid animal lust turned mutual loathing of all of their coworkers is love. She grins to herself and allows one small whiff of the moist petals before declaring Mark a complete sap and pulling her clothes on.
Maybe she'll tell him she loves him too in the on call room they use to meet up in during their lunch for "stress management". It's justifiable, he (technically) said it first after all.
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