A Posteriori
Title: A Posteriori :: Feel Me Heaven [2/12]
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mark/Addison
Summary: Moving forward, moving across the country. The Fool for abcdana.
Note: If real and surreal are words and if reality is a word, surreality must be a word because surreal needs a noun form. Stupid English language.
A Posteriori :: Eppur Si Muove
To the surprise of everyone, the brownstone never sold in the months it was on the market. They’d received offers but they were all too low or by people who shortly realized that Lower Manhattan wasn’t where they wanted to live. Just before they step on the plane to LaGuardia, Addison makes the suggestion.
“With all that history?” Mark clasps her left hand - they’ll hunt for the ring together when they return to their city - and follows her into the cabin.
She finds their seats and claims the window even though Mark is the one with the actual window seat ticket. Smiling as she settles into the seat, she remembers why she flies first class and not coach. Coach was the only thing available for their flight to Calgary for their vacation and she hated it. “I always liked it and paint and some new furniture and rearranging could do wonders.”
He chuckles and slips his arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to him. “You can say it. You never liked my apartment.” But he’s worried about the idea; he knows just how much happened in the rooms of that house and though he isn’t one to believe in feng shui or karma, he knows that the negative energy still vibrating through the walls is a lot to overcome. “Why don’t we stay there for a few nights before we decide anything.”
She nods in agreement. She hates that the house she loved could potentially hurt her again but she’s willing to make changes and do everything to make it a happy place again. “Okay.” She clasps Mark’s hand in hers and laces their fingers together as they race down the runway. Unable to hold back a smile as a small girl behind them whispers to her mother that this is fun, she leans her head on Mark’s shoulder and closes her eyes. As she feels the plane lift off into the air, she feels a weight on her heart disappear back down onto the ground and for once she’s glad to be leaving part of her life behind.
--
The first three nights are hard. Memories of Derek and their marriage and the infamous night haunt her during the day when she wanders through the rooms and hallways to remove pictures of the two of them and put forgotten things of his into boxes to send across the country just in case he might want them. They haunt her at night while Mark holds her tightly as she remembers the sheer terror and guilt at seeing Derek’s face as he registered what was going on in his bed. It’s worse when it starts to rain.
He watches her closely and it isn’t lost on him that she does everything she can to avoid looking at the front door. He’s on the verge of suggesting that they just give up the idea of living in the brownstone because he can see how hard it is and how much it hurts but he can also see how much she wants to face everything and put it in her past. So he distracts her as best he can with hugs and kisses and gentle reminders with each flash of lightning that he will never shut her out in the rain. Go outside and kiss her and feel her up and maybe sometime make love to her in the rain at night outside in their backyard, yes, but never throw her out and lock the door.
She smiles wryly and thanks him and laughs as the power goes out. She knows exactly where candles are and by the light of Mark’s cell phone she finds them and a set of matches and lights a few and places them strategically around the kitchen and living room. It’s surprisingly better in the light of flickering candles. The sharp corners of the room, the harsh geometry of the stairs all soften without electricity and resurfaced feelings slowly disappear.
With the intention to be soothing and comforting, Mark slips an arm around her waist only to met by a giggle and a seductive smirk tossed over her shoulder. Her eyes smoke over as they connect with his and he feels his eyes darken even more with every inch he slides his hands up the front of her shirt. She leans against him when his hands cup her breasts through her bra and she pouts for a moment at the disappearance of his touch but soon finds herself without a shirt and almost immediately without a bra and a clap of thunder drowns out her moan as he rolls her nipples between his fingers.
“Mark...” she pleads after several minutes of delicious torture from his hands and the attention his mouth is giving her neck. She’ll have a mark there in the morning but each swipe of his tongue increases the electricity between her legs.
He grins into her neck and gently scrapes his teeth against the soft skin, his hands trailing down her stomach to tease the edge of her jeans. First the button and then slowly the zipper and he blows a stream of air into her ear as she pushes her hips forward, hoping his fingers will go further soon. Caressing the skin of her hips, he whispers how sexy she is and slowly pushes her jeans down to the floor leaving her in simple black panties standing out in stark contrast against her skin. She tries to turn around but his grasp on her hips tightens and he keeps her where she is; it isn’t that hard when his fingers flutter across the fabric, just barely between her legs.
She knows the teasing gets her hotter and the orgasms come faster and harder and in rapid succession but sometimes it’s too much. Just before she’s about to say something, he cups her through her damp panties and softly drags a finger across her clit and she gasps.
“Like that?” Mark whispers huskily and does it twice more before toying with the edges of the fabric. He has to hold himself back from tugging them off in one swift movement, slowly teasing them all the way down to the ground, his hands sliding up her legs as he stands up behind her again. He dips a finger into her and spreads some of her wetness around her clit, drawing tiny and slow circles across the sensitive nub. Feeling her on the edge of orgasm he stops for five excruciating seconds and plunges two fingers into her. He supports her with his other arm as her balance falters and he quickly adds a third finger and soon his thumb is on her clit and his curled fingers hit her g-spot and she screams in pleasure as a powerful orgasm rips through her. Her legs lose strength and he has to let her down sooner than he intended to keep her from falling uncomfortably to the floor.
As the aftershocks course through her, she registers that he’s picking her up and carrying her over to the couch, pulling a blanket up over her as she cuddles into his chest, unable to move, speak or even think.
“You alright there?” He asks with a bemused smirk once her breaths have calmed down and she no longer quivers with his touch.
“Oh yes.” Addison laughs low and sultry and burrows her head in his shoulder, thanking him with a soft kiss on his cheek.
A short while later, Mark finds himself being led upstairs by Addison. The blanket is wrapped loosely around her, more to ward off the cold than from any sense of modesty. He likes that about her; she’s one of only a handful of women he’s slept with who doesn’t have a problem being seen naked out of a sexual context. She exudes confidence as she turns around at the top of the stairs and kisses him, slowly dropping the blanket as they walk toward their bedroom.
Unlike Mark, Addison hates being the one doing the teasing and, based on what she sees when she pushes his pants and boxers to the floor, she thinks that he doesn’t much mind that she’s skipping over most of that. She especially thinks that he doesn’t much mind when he walks her backward to the bed and falls on top of her, catching himself so only a few centimeters of space separate their chests. He gently sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, eliciting a quiet moan when he bites it softly in tandem with circling her nipple with a finger.
Addison wiggles her hips and meets his eyes and they gasp in unison when he fluidly slips into her and begins to make love to her.
--
On the fourth day, she buys paint and visits her former Chief of Surgery to plead sheepishly for her old job back. With a smile and a roll of her eyes - because she always knew Addison would come back - she tells her it’s hers on the condition that she not do anything idiotic like that again. She gives Mark the same lecture but adds on the stern warning that he’d better not do anything idiotic to Addison.
Mark gives up his apartment with fake reluctance and spends three days packing up his stuff and moving it into the brownstone. He comes across the onesie when he goes through the bottom drawer of his desk and spends a moment stroking the fabric and tracing the logo and pinstripes, glad that Addison is on a ladder somewhere in the brownstone across town and not with him right then. He sighs and puts it in the trash bag next to him and pushes against his eyes with the heels of his hands to keep tears from falling. There are other options and he knows that, somehow, he will spend a few years tripping over toys left out on the kitchen floor and he’ll have to speak in letters when it comes to things with significant sugar content but the onesie is full of bad memories and hurt and not meant for any future child of his.
“You have paint on your nose.” He kisses her hello after carefully setting the last box down on the hardwood floor of the hall.
“Really?” She scrunches her nose and rubs at it, trying to get off the offending paint without being able to see it. “How the hell did that happen?”
Mark shrugs and honestly thinks it’s kind of cute but gets the rest of it off for her. The deep reddish orange looks beautiful on the walls and completely changes the feel of the room. It warms it up and it’s almost as if she covered up years of bad memories with two coats of paint. He helps her shove furniture around and it takes them an hour to figure out what formation works best without being exactly what it was before. When they have it just the way they want, Mark smirks at her and she takes his hand and leads him upstairs into the shower.
--
Addison bites her lip and smiles at him over her shoulder, her eyes bright and cheerful, and her laughter rings out across the deserted playground as she runs toward the swings. She goes out of her way to jump on all the crunchy yellow and orange leaves that late October blew onto the ground. The fading sunlight sparkles off her engagement ring, one she fell in love with from the moment they stepped into the store.
“Push me!” She politely demands with an irresistible pout once she’s settled on a swing, her breath frosty in the crisp and chilly air. Kicking at the dirt below her, she eagerly waits for him to come around behind and give her a gentle push to get her going even though she knows she can do it on her own.
Mark concedes with a smile and grasps the chains and moves the swing back and forth a few times to start the motion and then presses his warm hands against her back and gives her a careful push. He smiles, happy that he can make her this happy. She’s been happy ever since their vacation and even more so since they left Seattle but the excitement and joy that he knew was inside of her somewhere has permanently returned. He’s thrilled that he can put the innocent and youthful grin back on her face as she grips tightly to the chains and straightens her legs out in front of her and then curls them under her like she was taught if she wanted to go higher.
And higher she goes.
With her legs out, she holds on tightly to the chains and leans as far back as she can go, her red hair spilling out over her shoulders as she cranes her neck to look over the trees. She’s too high for him to push her now so he steps back and lets her go on her own. Her energy amazes him. It’s only been a week since the engagement was sealed with a ring and everything was official with the brownstone and their jobs and the wonderful reality of it all is just beginning to sink in but she’s already lighter in step and bouncier and there’s more of herself beneath the makeup and designer clothing than there has been in the last three years.
The sharp early November air stings at her cheeks and turns them pink and as sunset turns to dusk her bare fingers begin to get cold against the metal chains so she slowly lets herself back down to the ground. She smiles her thanks at Mark when he catches the swing and eases her still again.
Addison laces her fingers through his and whispers that they should go home, but she says it with such a grin that he knows it isn’t because she’s tired. Mark chuckles and catches her around the waist with his arm and pulls her to him to kiss her before they walk the few blocks back. It’s short and sweet but loving and tender. But loving and tender soon heats up and they know they can’t stay there forever.
--
“I’m pregnant,” she tells him as they lie quietly in the moonlight after making love for what seemed and felt like hours. She turns her head and draws designs on his chest for a while before looking into his eyes and repeating her words, confirming a question about to leave his lips.
Pregnant. Again. And she said she couldn’t.
Too elated for words, he runs his fingers through her hair and then gently runs his finger down the slope of her nose and tells her that he loves her. Her energy immediately begins to rub off on him and he laughs through the amazing shock and rolls over on top of her. His hand brushes against her stomach and she gasps a little at the contact.
She’s sure she’s imagining things, but she swears she can feel the cells dividing into the tiny life growing within her and she knows that she’s going to be one of those women, the ones with their hands resting on their abdomen throughout their entire pregnancy (the ones she usually can’t stand). No matter how much she understands the science and no matter how much she’s witnessed the emotion, she never could have dreamed of how it feels from the other side. She looks into his eyes and knows that she was halfway right that rainy day in the lounge when he had a cold; at the time, he would have been terrible no matter what they would have done but that it wasn’t an eternal fault. Now, now that they’ve both grown up and settled down and things have straightened out, he’ll be the kind of father she always dreamed of her children having.
“What are you thinking about?”
Addison smiles softly and traces the lines of his cheek. “You.”
“Yeah?”
She bites her lip and grins shyly. “You’re one of those guys who plays catch.”
He’s learned to simply assume that some things make sense in her head, that the logic and context exist somewhere and it’s best for him not to ask but he thinks he understands what she means this time. “I am.”
It’s real now, now that she’s said it out loud. It’s real now that he’s heard it and reacted with a smile and an almost-imperceptible tightening of his arms and whispered reminder of love. The surreality of it has disappeared, she believes that it’s happening now. And his potential as a father grows exponentially in her mind with each gentle fingertip against her stomach and she knows that, behind the bright and excited eyes, he’s thinking of names.
Mark envelopes her in his arms and rolls onto his back, cuddling her against him as much as she’s cuddling into him. He feels her eyes drift shut and he brushes a kiss against her temple, thinking that though he’s never been happier, he’s certain that in nine months he’ll have the same feeling.
A Posteriori :: Dreaming of Andromeda
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mark/Addison
Summary: Moving forward, moving across the country. The Fool for abcdana.
Note: If real and surreal are words and if reality is a word, surreality must be a word because surreal needs a noun form. Stupid English language.
A Posteriori :: Eppur Si Muove
To the surprise of everyone, the brownstone never sold in the months it was on the market. They’d received offers but they were all too low or by people who shortly realized that Lower Manhattan wasn’t where they wanted to live. Just before they step on the plane to LaGuardia, Addison makes the suggestion.
“With all that history?” Mark clasps her left hand - they’ll hunt for the ring together when they return to their city - and follows her into the cabin.
She finds their seats and claims the window even though Mark is the one with the actual window seat ticket. Smiling as she settles into the seat, she remembers why she flies first class and not coach. Coach was the only thing available for their flight to Calgary for their vacation and she hated it. “I always liked it and paint and some new furniture and rearranging could do wonders.”
He chuckles and slips his arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to him. “You can say it. You never liked my apartment.” But he’s worried about the idea; he knows just how much happened in the rooms of that house and though he isn’t one to believe in feng shui or karma, he knows that the negative energy still vibrating through the walls is a lot to overcome. “Why don’t we stay there for a few nights before we decide anything.”
She nods in agreement. She hates that the house she loved could potentially hurt her again but she’s willing to make changes and do everything to make it a happy place again. “Okay.” She clasps Mark’s hand in hers and laces their fingers together as they race down the runway. Unable to hold back a smile as a small girl behind them whispers to her mother that this is fun, she leans her head on Mark’s shoulder and closes her eyes. As she feels the plane lift off into the air, she feels a weight on her heart disappear back down onto the ground and for once she’s glad to be leaving part of her life behind.
--
The first three nights are hard. Memories of Derek and their marriage and the infamous night haunt her during the day when she wanders through the rooms and hallways to remove pictures of the two of them and put forgotten things of his into boxes to send across the country just in case he might want them. They haunt her at night while Mark holds her tightly as she remembers the sheer terror and guilt at seeing Derek’s face as he registered what was going on in his bed. It’s worse when it starts to rain.
He watches her closely and it isn’t lost on him that she does everything she can to avoid looking at the front door. He’s on the verge of suggesting that they just give up the idea of living in the brownstone because he can see how hard it is and how much it hurts but he can also see how much she wants to face everything and put it in her past. So he distracts her as best he can with hugs and kisses and gentle reminders with each flash of lightning that he will never shut her out in the rain. Go outside and kiss her and feel her up and maybe sometime make love to her in the rain at night outside in their backyard, yes, but never throw her out and lock the door.
She smiles wryly and thanks him and laughs as the power goes out. She knows exactly where candles are and by the light of Mark’s cell phone she finds them and a set of matches and lights a few and places them strategically around the kitchen and living room. It’s surprisingly better in the light of flickering candles. The sharp corners of the room, the harsh geometry of the stairs all soften without electricity and resurfaced feelings slowly disappear.
With the intention to be soothing and comforting, Mark slips an arm around her waist only to met by a giggle and a seductive smirk tossed over her shoulder. Her eyes smoke over as they connect with his and he feels his eyes darken even more with every inch he slides his hands up the front of her shirt. She leans against him when his hands cup her breasts through her bra and she pouts for a moment at the disappearance of his touch but soon finds herself without a shirt and almost immediately without a bra and a clap of thunder drowns out her moan as he rolls her nipples between his fingers.
“Mark...” she pleads after several minutes of delicious torture from his hands and the attention his mouth is giving her neck. She’ll have a mark there in the morning but each swipe of his tongue increases the electricity between her legs.
He grins into her neck and gently scrapes his teeth against the soft skin, his hands trailing down her stomach to tease the edge of her jeans. First the button and then slowly the zipper and he blows a stream of air into her ear as she pushes her hips forward, hoping his fingers will go further soon. Caressing the skin of her hips, he whispers how sexy she is and slowly pushes her jeans down to the floor leaving her in simple black panties standing out in stark contrast against her skin. She tries to turn around but his grasp on her hips tightens and he keeps her where she is; it isn’t that hard when his fingers flutter across the fabric, just barely between her legs.
She knows the teasing gets her hotter and the orgasms come faster and harder and in rapid succession but sometimes it’s too much. Just before she’s about to say something, he cups her through her damp panties and softly drags a finger across her clit and she gasps.
“Like that?” Mark whispers huskily and does it twice more before toying with the edges of the fabric. He has to hold himself back from tugging them off in one swift movement, slowly teasing them all the way down to the ground, his hands sliding up her legs as he stands up behind her again. He dips a finger into her and spreads some of her wetness around her clit, drawing tiny and slow circles across the sensitive nub. Feeling her on the edge of orgasm he stops for five excruciating seconds and plunges two fingers into her. He supports her with his other arm as her balance falters and he quickly adds a third finger and soon his thumb is on her clit and his curled fingers hit her g-spot and she screams in pleasure as a powerful orgasm rips through her. Her legs lose strength and he has to let her down sooner than he intended to keep her from falling uncomfortably to the floor.
As the aftershocks course through her, she registers that he’s picking her up and carrying her over to the couch, pulling a blanket up over her as she cuddles into his chest, unable to move, speak or even think.
“You alright there?” He asks with a bemused smirk once her breaths have calmed down and she no longer quivers with his touch.
“Oh yes.” Addison laughs low and sultry and burrows her head in his shoulder, thanking him with a soft kiss on his cheek.
A short while later, Mark finds himself being led upstairs by Addison. The blanket is wrapped loosely around her, more to ward off the cold than from any sense of modesty. He likes that about her; she’s one of only a handful of women he’s slept with who doesn’t have a problem being seen naked out of a sexual context. She exudes confidence as she turns around at the top of the stairs and kisses him, slowly dropping the blanket as they walk toward their bedroom.
Unlike Mark, Addison hates being the one doing the teasing and, based on what she sees when she pushes his pants and boxers to the floor, she thinks that he doesn’t much mind that she’s skipping over most of that. She especially thinks that he doesn’t much mind when he walks her backward to the bed and falls on top of her, catching himself so only a few centimeters of space separate their chests. He gently sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, eliciting a quiet moan when he bites it softly in tandem with circling her nipple with a finger.
Addison wiggles her hips and meets his eyes and they gasp in unison when he fluidly slips into her and begins to make love to her.
--
On the fourth day, she buys paint and visits her former Chief of Surgery to plead sheepishly for her old job back. With a smile and a roll of her eyes - because she always knew Addison would come back - she tells her it’s hers on the condition that she not do anything idiotic like that again. She gives Mark the same lecture but adds on the stern warning that he’d better not do anything idiotic to Addison.
Mark gives up his apartment with fake reluctance and spends three days packing up his stuff and moving it into the brownstone. He comes across the onesie when he goes through the bottom drawer of his desk and spends a moment stroking the fabric and tracing the logo and pinstripes, glad that Addison is on a ladder somewhere in the brownstone across town and not with him right then. He sighs and puts it in the trash bag next to him and pushes against his eyes with the heels of his hands to keep tears from falling. There are other options and he knows that, somehow, he will spend a few years tripping over toys left out on the kitchen floor and he’ll have to speak in letters when it comes to things with significant sugar content but the onesie is full of bad memories and hurt and not meant for any future child of his.
“You have paint on your nose.” He kisses her hello after carefully setting the last box down on the hardwood floor of the hall.
“Really?” She scrunches her nose and rubs at it, trying to get off the offending paint without being able to see it. “How the hell did that happen?”
Mark shrugs and honestly thinks it’s kind of cute but gets the rest of it off for her. The deep reddish orange looks beautiful on the walls and completely changes the feel of the room. It warms it up and it’s almost as if she covered up years of bad memories with two coats of paint. He helps her shove furniture around and it takes them an hour to figure out what formation works best without being exactly what it was before. When they have it just the way they want, Mark smirks at her and she takes his hand and leads him upstairs into the shower.
--
Addison bites her lip and smiles at him over her shoulder, her eyes bright and cheerful, and her laughter rings out across the deserted playground as she runs toward the swings. She goes out of her way to jump on all the crunchy yellow and orange leaves that late October blew onto the ground. The fading sunlight sparkles off her engagement ring, one she fell in love with from the moment they stepped into the store.
“Push me!” She politely demands with an irresistible pout once she’s settled on a swing, her breath frosty in the crisp and chilly air. Kicking at the dirt below her, she eagerly waits for him to come around behind and give her a gentle push to get her going even though she knows she can do it on her own.
Mark concedes with a smile and grasps the chains and moves the swing back and forth a few times to start the motion and then presses his warm hands against her back and gives her a careful push. He smiles, happy that he can make her this happy. She’s been happy ever since their vacation and even more so since they left Seattle but the excitement and joy that he knew was inside of her somewhere has permanently returned. He’s thrilled that he can put the innocent and youthful grin back on her face as she grips tightly to the chains and straightens her legs out in front of her and then curls them under her like she was taught if she wanted to go higher.
And higher she goes.
With her legs out, she holds on tightly to the chains and leans as far back as she can go, her red hair spilling out over her shoulders as she cranes her neck to look over the trees. She’s too high for him to push her now so he steps back and lets her go on her own. Her energy amazes him. It’s only been a week since the engagement was sealed with a ring and everything was official with the brownstone and their jobs and the wonderful reality of it all is just beginning to sink in but she’s already lighter in step and bouncier and there’s more of herself beneath the makeup and designer clothing than there has been in the last three years.
The sharp early November air stings at her cheeks and turns them pink and as sunset turns to dusk her bare fingers begin to get cold against the metal chains so she slowly lets herself back down to the ground. She smiles her thanks at Mark when he catches the swing and eases her still again.
Addison laces her fingers through his and whispers that they should go home, but she says it with such a grin that he knows it isn’t because she’s tired. Mark chuckles and catches her around the waist with his arm and pulls her to him to kiss her before they walk the few blocks back. It’s short and sweet but loving and tender. But loving and tender soon heats up and they know they can’t stay there forever.
--
“I’m pregnant,” she tells him as they lie quietly in the moonlight after making love for what seemed and felt like hours. She turns her head and draws designs on his chest for a while before looking into his eyes and repeating her words, confirming a question about to leave his lips.
Pregnant. Again. And she said she couldn’t.
Too elated for words, he runs his fingers through her hair and then gently runs his finger down the slope of her nose and tells her that he loves her. Her energy immediately begins to rub off on him and he laughs through the amazing shock and rolls over on top of her. His hand brushes against her stomach and she gasps a little at the contact.
She’s sure she’s imagining things, but she swears she can feel the cells dividing into the tiny life growing within her and she knows that she’s going to be one of those women, the ones with their hands resting on their abdomen throughout their entire pregnancy (the ones she usually can’t stand). No matter how much she understands the science and no matter how much she’s witnessed the emotion, she never could have dreamed of how it feels from the other side. She looks into his eyes and knows that she was halfway right that rainy day in the lounge when he had a cold; at the time, he would have been terrible no matter what they would have done but that it wasn’t an eternal fault. Now, now that they’ve both grown up and settled down and things have straightened out, he’ll be the kind of father she always dreamed of her children having.
“What are you thinking about?”
Addison smiles softly and traces the lines of his cheek. “You.”
“Yeah?”
She bites her lip and grins shyly. “You’re one of those guys who plays catch.”
He’s learned to simply assume that some things make sense in her head, that the logic and context exist somewhere and it’s best for him not to ask but he thinks he understands what she means this time. “I am.”
It’s real now, now that she’s said it out loud. It’s real now that he’s heard it and reacted with a smile and an almost-imperceptible tightening of his arms and whispered reminder of love. The surreality of it has disappeared, she believes that it’s happening now. And his potential as a father grows exponentially in her mind with each gentle fingertip against her stomach and she knows that, behind the bright and excited eyes, he’s thinking of names.
Mark envelopes her in his arms and rolls onto his back, cuddling her against him as much as she’s cuddling into him. He feels her eyes drift shut and he brushes a kiss against her temple, thinking that though he’s never been happier, he’s certain that in nine months he’ll have the same feeling.
A Posteriori :: Dreaming of Andromeda