74┃peace and comfort

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S8 EP7

"KAREV, THROW THE BALL!"

Alex flung the softball back towards the base; the ball soared in the sky before it got caught in Timothy's glove. With a swing of the waist, he pitched the ball towards Arizona, who shrieked and jumped aside, causing the ball to crash onto the chain-link gates.

"Timothy!"

"Robbins, don't be afraid of it," Owen voiced out.

Arizona stumbled and fell while trying to pick up the ball on the ground, causing Norah to burst out in laughter while sitting in the audience stand.

"Well, it flew at my head," Arizona snapped back at him.

Norah squinted as she watched a lanky man in a yellow Seattle Presbyterian jersey approach Timothy with an impressed grin on his face. He smirked smugly back at the opponent team player, mumbling some words.

"Who is that?" Teddy questioned with narrowed eyes as the younger Lawrence tossed the ball towards the centre of the field.

"Oh, Julian Kane... or Kent," Arizona replied. "He's an ophthalmologist from Seattle Pres."

Out of the corner of her eye, Norah swore she caught a glimpse of Lexie frowning at the pair.

Mark jogged up to her from the outfield and dropped himself down on the bench. She handed him a cold bottle of water while he wiped the sweat off his head. When he tried to lean in for a kiss, he was instead greeted by her hand on his chest, pushing him back harshly.

"Get off me. You're sweaty," she complained, and he shot her an unamused look.

He ended up sighing and gulping down the icy water. He followed her gaze that was directed at her brother, who was starting to chat up with the ophthalmologist.

"Tim and that one? If they do miraculously work something out, they'll last 48 hours, max."

"Yeah?" she quirked a brow at him, "Tell that to the other person staring at them."

He snorted before leaning down to her tummy, pressing a kiss on top of it. "How's Mark Jr. doing?"

Norah immediately knitted her brows closely at that. "Mark Jr.?"

"Just testing... No?" he asked with a tight-lipped smile.

She shook her head, shooting down his idea. "If it's a boy, we are not naming our kid Mark, Mark."

He nodded in defeat before shifting closer to her. "What about Laurie for a girl? I have a good feeling that we'll have a girl," he muttered, but he soon narrowed his eyes at the look on her face.

Norah gritted her teeth as she debated on whether or not to confess. In the end, she gave in and admitted, "Laurie is my name, love. Mine."

He burst out in wheezes, "Aw, you're jealous!"

❦ ❦ ❦

DEREK INSERTED THE probe into the brain model that was connected to a computer, displaying the MR Guidance System. Norah and Lexie sat next to each other as they watched the screen, the former wincing slightly when the probe hit the wrong spot.

"How about now? Any lights?"

"Supplemental motor area," Norah hummed as she propped up her head on her elbow.

Derek sighed, "Great. I just paralyzed the whole left side."

"So she's completely paralyzed," Lexie corrected the attending, who looked back at her confusedly.

"We hit the right side earlier," Norah reminded. "Well, at least it's balanced."

The two other surgeons furrowed their brows at her supposed joke, and the brunette shrugged back at them while Derek pulled out the probe. "Alright. Let's try another angle."

The residents watched the probe entering the brain once again, then the display, yet again, glowed in vibrant colours. "Ding."

"Damn. What was that?"

"Fornix," Lexie informed grimly. "Ooh, through to the basilar. So she'd be, uh..."

"Mute, memory loss, brain dead... Brilliant." Norah stated coolly, while Derek grumbled in frustration.

The door to the skills lab opened, and the two residents perked their heads up. Owen entered the room to check up on the neurosurgeon's work. "How's it going?" he asked.

"I just can't find a clean approach," Derek sighed heavily and shook his head. He set the probe aside with a disappointed look on his face before turning to the resident. "Lexie, shut down the monitor," he instructed, "I guess I owe the mom a surgery."

"No, no, no. Not yet," Owen disagreed as he rounded over to the computer, "Not yet. Try it again."

Derek stared at him in disbelief. "Alright, now you're really getting on my nerves."

"I'm just practising my coaching skills," the new Chief of Surgery stated matter-of-factly. "Seriously, Shepherd. Pick up the damn probe."

"Alright," Derek finally caved. "Turn it back on." He carefully inserted the probe following a slightly different angle than his previous attempts. The beginning looked fine and steady... until the vibrant glow of colours popped up again.

"Ding," the residents chimed in unison, and the attending rolled his eyes.

Owen had wished them good luck and went off when he got paged; Mark peeked his head into the skills lab, staring at his pregnant girlfriend, his discouraged best friend, and his girlfriend's brother's zoned-out-ish-looking ex-girlfriend.

"Derek, please tell me you're not getting Norah to stand for your surgery," the plastic surgeon spoke, gaining the attention of all three of the surgeons.

Norah let out a sound of protest when Derek chuckled, "Of course not. That's why I have Grey here." The older resident stared at him unamusingly while the younger resident grinned.

The two of them had grown closer ever since Lexie took interest in the specialty and joined the Neuro squad, although conversations that involved Timothy were avoided.

"Hey, did you know that Tim sprained his shoulder?" Mark queried.

"He what?" Lexie's slightly-too-big reaction caused the three other surgeons to turn their heads to her; she quickly sank back into her seat, clearing her throat awkwardly.

Norah eyed Lexie at the corner of her eyes, hiding back a smile. She snorted lightly but grimaced when Derek punctured through the brain model's cerebellum.

"Sprained shoulder? Good for him," she shrugged, and Mark blinked at her words.

Glancing at the confused look on the plastic surgeon's face, Derek shook his head and chuckled. "Mark, it's called sibling love."

❦ ❦ ❦

OWEN HAD 'HIRED' HENRY as his administrative assistant until their game on the next day. The new Chief of Surgery was assigning the players' positions while distributing their team jerseys to the surgeons gathered in the room.

"Sloan, you're on first," he notified and flipped through his clipboard, "Uh, Shepherd, pitcher."

"Shepherd's out," Mark informed. "He told me his brain surgery could be a marathon."

Timothy turned on his chair and shot his hands in the air while his eyes fixed on the chief's. "I'm an excellent pitcher," he claimed, but Teddy shot him down.

"You sprained your shoulder, Lawrence," the attending pointed out loudly, "God knows what you were doing when you sprained it, because Torres mentioned that it wasn't a sports sprain."

Lexie frowned at the information and glanced towards Timothy, who tried to suppress a smirk on his face. "I'm ambidextrous," he claimed with a shrug, before wincing at the pain; Jackson was looking between them suspiciously.

"Alright, Altman, pitcher," Owen announced, "Lawrence, centre field."

Mark rounded the table and stood behind his girlfriend's brother, lowering his head to the younger man. "Did you really sprained that shoulder from getting laid?" he asked curiously. Timothy merely smirked back at him.

Lexie gritted her teeth a bit before shaking her thoughts away and reaching for the box of clothes on the table. "I need a small," she muttered.

"Oh, they're all larges," Henry told her.

"What? No-we can't be out of smalls already," April flipped through the jerseys in the large cardboard box, only to find that there was, indeed, only 'L' available. "I told them we needed an assortment of sizes. I... I was very clear on the phone."

"Apparently not," Timothy inputted with a snort.

Owen chuckled before tossing a shirt to Mark. "Sweet. I'll look fantastic in this," the latter stated while opening the jersey up in front of him. "And when you look good, you play good."

Timothy reached across the table and took two jerseys, handing an extra one to Mark. "Nor loved my college jerseys," he explained, "You'd probably avoid getting punched by her for a day or two."

"Huh. Thanks, man," Mark nodded and clapped him on the shoulder; the resident yelped, and the plastic surgeon quickly drew his hand back with an apologetic smile. "I can only say that you had an amazing hook-up."

"Painfully."

Lexie's face was bitter.

❦ ❦ ❦

TIMOTHY SAT NEXT TO Norah on the bench after his turn, sprawling his legs open and his elbows holding him up from behind. He took off his cap and set it aside before taking a cold bottle of water and pouring it over himself.

Norah noticed the look on Julian's face from the base, eyeing her brother with hungry eyes while the latter shook water off his hair. "So, eye doctor, huh?" she queried, and he opened an eye to her.

"You don't like him, do you?" he guessed.

She sighed, "Well, I don't really care who you date as long as you're happy, but he's not-"

"He's not Lexie," he stated firmly, looking around to make sure neither the woman in question nor her current boyfriend was near them. "No one will never be Lexie. But... I don't know. I gotta at least try to move on... I guess."

"Yeah, it took you a year to move on from your previous partner, if I recall," she snorted, and he scrunched his nose. "Poor Uncle Timmy is looking for a distraction."

"Hey, don't you drag my little bean into this!"

Norah merely rolled her eyes at him, and the Seattle Grace Mercy West team got called out to the field. She winced whenever the team in blue made a terrible miss or when the team in yellow swung the bat, which hit the ball away from the playing field.

The surgeons in the stand came and went as they rotated their turns on the field. At one point, Lexie had finally felt disgusted from seeing the whole flirting between Timothy and Julian.

Jackson gave her a brief look when Lexie got off her seat and headed to the base; Norah had the same puzzled look as he did, though she did feel slightly sorry for Jackson when he scoffed and shook his head.

❦ ❦ ❦

"TIME-OUT! TIME-OUT!" Owen called out, "Bring it in! Huddle up!"

Norah had snuck to the field since everyone in blue had gathered in a group. She wiggled under Mark's arm; he grinned and kissed her on the head while having his arm over her shoulder.

"Alright. I... I just want to say how proud I am of all of you. You are an incredible team," Owen stated, "I've watched you work together, uh, solve problems together. I watched you teach each other and learn from each other. You step up when you need to and you... you do more than anyone asks you to do. You're the finest team I've ever been a part of."

"Oh my god," Mark furrowed his brows at the speech.

"What are you talking about?" Derek cackled.

"Hunt's gonna cry," Norah chimed in, "And I thought I was the one pumped with hormones." The group shared a laugh at her words while she gave Derek a high-five before snuggling closer into Mark's touch.

Callie raised a brow at the chief. "You don't think we actually have a shot at winning this."

"What, this? No, no, no, we're screwed. You are all horrible at softball," Owen shook his head with a chuckle. "But as doctors, you're pretty great, and I am proud just to get to lead you, and you're all here, so I just... I just wanted to tell you. But now... Now, we're going down. So, what do you say we go down fighting?"

The surgeons-plus one administrative assistant-dispersed and headed back to take on their position. Mark led Norah back to the stands and rubbed circles on her aching back, the latter resting her head on his shoulder.

"Let's go, Lexie!"

"Show 'em how it's done!"
"Don't trip and fall, Lex!"

Mark laughed at Norah's input and shook his head. Lexie walked over to the pitcher's position and took her stance, stretching her arms and neck confidently. She could not help but steal glances at the pair who were fooling around at a distance to her left.

"Look at Grey," Mark muttered to his girlfriend, gesturing at Lexie, who was still eyeing Timothy.

Him playfully shoving her made her jealousy rise to her head, but when she saw that familiar cheeky grin on his face-which was not because of her-it made her blood boil.

Lexie tried playing it off, attempting to cool her heated head while she caught back the ball in her glove. The team in blue were cheering and clapping; a drunk Meredith and Cristina even tried wolf-whistling at her.

"Oh, crap, look at that mess. Is she your relief pitcher?" Julian taunted, not noticing the frown forming on Timothy's face as he raised his voice, "Hey, pretty face, my grandma's can pitch better than that-"

Julian let out a painful shriek when the softball from Lexie's pitch hit him straight in the groin.

"Holy crap. Look at Grey," Norah's eyes widened amusingly.

One thing she knew growing up with Timothy is that he had a ridiculously quick reflex, and hence him not catching Lexie's throw was, without a doubt, on purpose.

"What? I thought he was stealing second!"

❦ ❦ ❦

THE FLASK AND WHISKY bottle were passed around the group of surgeons while they stayed at the field until nightfall.

The smell of alcohol made Norah feel like puking, as though she could sense the taste on her tongue; Mark was groaning at the fact that he was not allowed a sip.

Alex took the flask and took a swing before offering it to Norah. She looked down to the small metal container before raising a brow at him. He nodded before turning to his other side, offering it to Webber, who had the same 'are you serious' look on his face.

"One sip," Mark pleaded.

"No."

He sighed and lowered his head to her stomach. "Your Mom's torturing me, little one," he whispered, "You're really lucky that I love you."

"Mark, Sloan Offspring might be sick of you already," Meredith spoke up drunkenly before taking another swing from the flask.

Norah shook her head, bringing Mark's hand onto her stomach, where the baby was kicking softly. The kicks did not always feel the best to her, but the look on his face always made her feel soft.

"Jace."

"Hm?" she quirked a brow at him curiously when she realised he was talking to her, and not their kid, this time.

"Why don't we name this kid Jace, regardless their gender? After Jace Thompson," he suggested surely, gently caressing her cheek. "I mean, it's a unisex name."

My duckling. It almost made her tear up, and she blamed it on the stupid hormones.

She smiled at the thought and pulled him down for a kiss as he wrapped his arm around her waist; they felt the baby's kick again. From what they would guess, their child liked the name, too. "It's perfect."

The surgeons sat in the chilly night, gazing at the stars in the sky.

At that moment, they were tipsy and chattering with laughs; at that moment, they had no worries about surgeries or life; at that moment, they were enjoying the peace of their present, and cherishing the comfort they found in one another.


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