You Promised | Mark Sloan ✓

71┃many things make me happy

Derek shone a light in Zola's eyes for a quick check before turning to the residents. "Let's just run an MRI and check to see if she has a Chiari malformation or hydrocephalus," he instructed, "If it's positive, we're gonna have to do a shunt, drain the fluid. It's gonna postpone the spinal surgery, but I think it's gonna be worth it."

"I think she likes you," Alex pointed out, and Norah nodded in agreement.

Derek laughed softly when Zola put his penlight in her mouth. "She can keep that," he grinned, "I have plenty."

Norah narrowed her eyes at the attending who lingered in the room, staring at the baby with whom he had obviously formed an immediate connection. She had to physically pull him out of the room with a laugh, shaking her head. "You're staring too long. Makena's starting to look weirded out."

"Wow, Mark wasn't wrong about you-you are stronger," he exhaled and took the chart from Alex. The resident was still rubbing the spot that he got nudged a bit ago, as he went off to order the scans.

"Zola's cute, isn't she?" Derek spoke up, his eyes glimmering.

She hid a smile to herself, knowing that look on his face. "Oh, Derek..."

❦ ❦ ❦

MARK STOOD IN THE ROOM with his arms crossed, his foot tapping nervously against the floor. Norah quirked a brow at him as the OB smeared the cool gel on her stomach. They both had their eyes fixed at the monitor next to the bed while the transducer probe rolled around her stomach.

The nervous feelings always crept up on them whenever the screen lit up; then, they would exhale in relief when the heartbeat filled the room. The strong rhythm of the little life growing inside on her was one thing that never stopped fascinating her during her every check-up.

"How's his size?" Mark queried, and Norah shot him a glare.

The OB chuckled at his attempt. "Don't worry, you aren't the first to use this trick," she mentioned, "Its size is within the norm."

Mark let out a silent curse at his-yet again-failed attempt; he finally lost his patience. "Alright, come on, Norah, you wanna know their gender!" he tried convincing, but Norah would not budge.

"We agreed that we'll have a surprise!" she retorted.

"You hate surprises. Also, we had not agreed... yet, technically, because you fell asleep mid-discussion." Narrowing his eyes, he let out a frustrated groan, "Also, I don't know what colours to paint the walls!"

There was a long silence before she lifted her hand for him to take. He stood next to her while she grabbed his hand-then squeezed it tightly, causing him to grunt loudly at the sudden stinging pain.

"Now, now, love. Shh..." she smirked slyly at him, "I'm carrying our Sloan Offspring, and I've got nicknamed a 'Human Incubator'-"

"Well, that's kinda true-ow!"

"-so me and your kid both get a vote each," she deadpanned, "And we vote to wait. So, it's 2 to 1; you're outvoted. Suck it up."

Mark let out a soft whimper and nodded, hissing at the pain in his hand.

"And paint the walls something neutral."

The OB had an impressed smile while she cleaned the gel off the pregnant woman's stomach, giving Norah a thumbs-up.

❦ ❦ ❦

1 DAY LATER

NORAH SAT AT THEIR apartment, switching between the news channel and the cooking channel; the latter was making her hungry and knowing that Mark was a bad cook, she switched off the TV with a sigh.