Title: The Ineffable Qualia

Author: BlackIndiaInk

Rating: K

Disclaimer: The girls and the scene belong to Shonda and ABC

Summary: A look at Callie's introspection before, during and after she gets her first taste of Arizona.

A/N: This is not betaed but I couldn't wait. This is an answer to Xam's fic that she should post someday.

Calliope Torres, you are a strong, independent woman, the phase ran through my mind for the millionth time ...and I am not going to take the fall for this one. I didn't leap in too soon and I didn't miss the point. I was there and once again, I was all in. Now, I am here, in this bar, permeating my troubles in bourbon and the static atmosphere created by mingling drinkers. There is this empty feeling that comes after each of these romantic disasters and for what it's worth I am now filling all my empty places with this magical vanishing liquid. My chosen mantra was falling short of its purpose.

I felt stuck in this pattern and each time the cycle repeated it took a little more time and energy to recover. This one feels different. It had hit harder and chipped more of me away. At least with George there had been someone else. I could blame that on him... and on Izzie, but Erica had obviously found something unworthy in me. She had been left because of me. That was the blank, unholy shame of it all. I knew that I was getting all confounded in my self depreciation but at that moment I don't care. I just want to wallow in my synthetic propositions for awhile.

Was it pitiful that Joe knew exactly what to hand me when I had walked in the door? I stared at the dark surface of the bar as the repetitive scenes of my dead relationship played through to their sad, sad conclusions. I shut my eyes tightly hoping that it would erase the images but they snapped into high definition and were so much lucent than before. There I was, standing in front of the hospital taking implicit verbal blows from the person who was supposed to be the savior of hearts, instead she was breaking mine. I felt that night wrap around me like Erica's arms had in our most happy moments but there were so few of those happy memories that the pain swallowed them and I was left standing alone watching her retreating form as it disappeared among the cars in the parking lot. She hadn't even said goodbye. The tragic symbolism didn't escape me because it was literally a stolen heart that had ripped us apart.

I felt, rather than saw, Joe standing opposite me. Instantly, my hand shot up, motioning for him to get me a refill. The full shot glass appeared in front of me and I felt my fingers wrap around it. I didn't lift it to my lips like I had all the previous ones. I just stared into the dark amber liquid like it would tell me what made them all run from me and why I always gave so much of myself to the people who would take what I gave, hoard it, and never reciprocate. I felt my body shake with a cynical chuckle. It was like getting my lunch money stolen very day at recess in front of the whole school. I shrugged my shoulders since were starting to ache because of the slight angle that my back was bent at, but my lips were tingling, a sure sign that I was in stage two of inebriation.

Ah, there is that numb feeling starting to come on. It usually took about thirty minutes for me to really notice the effects but my body was finally processing it's temporary medicine to my satisfaction. I took a deep breath readying myself for the distinctly unpleasant feeling of liquid fire scorching down my throat. My hand flew up and my head tilted back, pouring the bourbon past my lips and down, down... deep until the feeling reached my porous heart. "You can't kinda be a lesbian..." The words floated in from behind the liquor laden haze, striking me anew. Full on lesbian or no, I had been very much into this obviously broken, untrustworthy woman. My ambiguous sexual identity had been an insurmountable obstacle for her but that wasn't the point right now.

I cast my mind back into my past for indicators of my current state. I trolled through murky memories of lovers with the determination of a conquistador. The list isn't as long as you might think. As much as I love to have a little fun I am pretty picky when it comes to who I give myself to, whether it be physically or emotionally. I hadn't really done relationships until I met George. I think it was because I was always in transit moving from one experience to the next but at that point I had settled in Seattle and I had sought out the person I thought was the one. It had been his goodness that had drawn me in. That gentle spirit that everyone else saw as a negative trait. Sometimes, I wondered if I had just run right over him like everyone else did but in the opposite direction. I had wanted him to be my raison d'être... even if it was just an ideal. "He couldn't handle me," I whispered, trying to stop my train of thought. I might have found all I thought I wanted in him but he found it in someone else, at least for a moment. In the end, they hadn't even stayed together. That little detail, however inconsequential, burned too.

The shot glass filled again, this time unbidden. I felt a droplet of liquid fall slowly onto the side of my thumb. If I could just be in this moment, right here, maybe I could forget. My gaze fell to the left. There was an old man sitting alone down the bar nursing a cocktail. I tried to guess what his story was from his body language and his choice of drink. My little game was working until my vision became blurry and a swoosh of air pulled my attention away. My eyes adjusted to the closeness of the form that had just sat down on the next stool.

"Mind if I sit here," Lexie asked.

Little Grey was another welcome distraction from my introspection, even if she was one of the together people.

"No... no... I'm just... over thinking." I replied and downed my shot.

"You think he'll tell them," she said referring to Mark filling in Shepherd and Meredith about their currently secret relationship.

"If he's not an idiot," I replied quickly.

Earlier in the night I had suggested that Mark get over himself and the possible fallout from his relationship with Lexie. She made him happy, which didn't happen often in general, and what everyone else thought about that shouldn't matter but for some reason it still did... at least to him. It was all rushing back again. The presence of someone almost as vulnerable as I was broke the liquid shield I had been building around my sensitivity . I felt the feelings pooling in my eyes in the form of tears. I needed to keep it together here in this very public place.

"Are you okay," Lexie asked.

Oh God, really poor choice of question... there it all goes, my carefully build solitude and it's protection imploding in on me.

"Um... um," I felt my earrings giggle when I shook my head, "I don't...," I reached out to use the bar for support, "I'm fine," I almost whispered, getting up to find my way to the only place where you can usually count on being left alone. I rushed past the rest of the people at the bar knowing that Lexie was watching my progress and feeling guilty. That was something I wasn't going to worry about. I made it into the bathroom and up to the sink before I could really start crying. I gripped the white porcelain in the vain hope that it would stem the flow of emotion. Movement had made me almost completely sober again which was a very big shame. A huge sigh escaped me and I looked into the mirror. My eye make-up was starting to run, not a surprise considering the small pool of tears in my eyes that were still waiting to be shed. I was trying to smooth a dark run away from under my left eye when I heard the door open and close.

"Hey," she said.

I took one more swipe at the dark splotch before answering, "Hey"

I was so not in the right mental space for this. I continued to work on both eyes praying that I could avoid one more bout of public humiliation but it was a forgone hope because she started speaking again.

"Ortho, right?"

"Yeah... right... hi," I replied hearing my voice go a few octaves higher than normal.

"I'm Arizona... Robbins, peds surgery. I've seen you at the hospital."

I scoffed at her timing. I was not into friendly chit-chat at the moment.

"Are you okay," she asked.

There was that question again. I glanced at her unfocused reflection in the mirror, "You know, I'm fine." I turned around facing her and a small, defeated smile worked it's way onto my lips. I hadn't seen her before... I would have remembered those dimples, and the hair, and the eyes. Hell, she was all together memorable.

"People talk... where we work. They talk... a lot."

I found myself amused at her baffled expression. Clearly, she wasn't so fond of the amount of gossip that circulated around the hospital, but it was the standard communication style for Seattle Grace.

"So, for the sake of being honest I think I should tell you that I know things about you.... because people talk."

Her words had a babbly, nervous edge about them but their point was still beyond my grasp. She smiled broadly and that sixth sense kicked in for me. She was talking about my Sapphic tendencies, and here we go again... did everyone know now? Of course, they did because once Christina knew then Meredith knew and then George knew and so on. One could safely say that once word had gotten to the nurses then it was hopeless. I should just start wearing a sign now: Recently gay and newly single.

"Oh," I said. I felt my face fall. I nodded and signed before going on, "You mean..." She nodded confirming my suspicions

"Terrific..."

"It is actually... the talk," she said as I leaned on the sink and crossed my arms in one last feeble attempt at protecting myself, "... people really like you over there. They respect you and they're concerned and interested. They really like you... some of them really like you.

I grimaced a bit at the last sentence feeling very embarrassed that my life seemed to be such a hot topic of discussion.

"You just... you look upset... and I thought that you should know that the talk is good... and when you're not upset... when you're over being upset... there will be people lining up for you."

The signification behind her words could not penetrate my currently dubious nature so I still found myself wondering why this woman had sought me out, a perfect stranger, just to tell me that I was liked and admired. She gave a small emphatic nod that sent me over the edge. My laugh rang through the bathroom and the concern emanating from her started to penetrate my defenses. "You wanna give me some names," I replied and laughed again, catching the unfathomable look in her eyes.

Then, she was gliding toward me her hand softly grasping my cheek. Adrenaline flooded my system as she leaned in, her scent flowing into my senses. It was a amalgamation of floral with a sweet and sexy elegance that was decidedly feminine. Her lips met mine and all everything the atmosphere around us evanesced. Explosions erupted in my nervous system sending warm jolts throughout my body that I felt at a cellular level. She had burst through my very last battlement and eradicated my momentary need for any at all. I was happily held under the aegis of her metaphysical connection to me. She pulled back and I really saw her for the first time, intentions and all and she was beautiful.

"I think you'll know," she assured me.

I could do nothing but stare at her and marinate in the endorphins she had caused to pulse through my brain. They were a much better pain reliever than the alcohol I had been pouring into my system. She backed away, giving me the most ineffable smile I had ever seen and laughed. Then, she was gone just as quickly as she had come into the room. I stood there in the same stupefied manner with a grin spreading across my face wondering where that had come from. Apparently, someone had finally noticed me, I mean really noticed me.