One

'Old Games and New Names'

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to SR and ABC. I make no profit from these stories and also? No copy right infringement intended.

I'm going off for 2-4 weeks hiatus, so thought I'd leave you all with a snippet from my new fic.

A/N (i): Something a little different. I'll be messing around with the canon and chronology a lot, some incidents will have happened, some maybe not, and some will be pushed or pulled in terms of the chronology. I'll forgo the existence of Sophia entirely. I know, I know, I love babies too; I love 'm enough to make you uncomfortable when I joke about stealing them, but for the purpose of the turn of events I'm going for Sophia R-S Torres cannot be in this story.

Thought, sarcasm, Calliesque word jumbles etc. are in Italics.

Chapters are definitely shorter than 'Confessions, Concessions and Cures', my other fic. Give it a go if you haven't yet (shameless self-promotion).

Read and Review, pretty please.

Onward

She'd read about the crash. She'd seen it on a television screen, swimming in static in the grimy heat of a dusty dusk, and now she was here.

She saw her; the brunette sitting at the bar.

That long black hair undulated over her shoulders and back as she flipped it. Those shoulders had moved slowly as she sighed, the shoulder blades peeking out from under the crimson of her top. The woman swiveled a little on the bar-stool as she took a languid sip of some smoky scotch while she ran a thumb over the cold and delicate leather of a jacket that was laid over her lap, hanging off a little to the right.

She watched the brunette intently and drew a breath, readying herself to approach her, but her feet didn't cooperate, 'well maybe not' she thought to herself.

"Oh, sorry…" the slight and meek apology forced her to look away from the brunette at the counter as she felt something shift a little from under her arm.

"What?" she asked with the polite smile of someone lightly buzzed in a bar on a weekend.

"Your elbow" – the redhead pointed out – "it's um… it's on my bag. I… uh… I left it here by mistake and –"

"And… I took your table without looking?" she asked, a sheepish and apologetic grin on her face as she moved her elbow off of the timid looking woman's bag. On closer inspection of the redhead she realised the woman was in a light green scrub shirt. Filing it away for later, she was about to go back to watching the women at the bar when the redheaded intruder spoke again " – it's no bother really…"

She looked back at the redhead, and picking up her glass, casually pointed at a booth off the side behind them" – yeah, I was just walking from my both there and I just stopped here to…" she wandered off into a weird silence, her head turning towards the object of her gaze – "I didn't see your bag… I wasn't going to – "

"-You want to know her name?" the redhead asked, suddenly sounding very friendly, and non-timid like.

That got her attention, she looked away, her head snapping back to face the redhead – "I'm sorry, what?!" She asked with a little incredulity in her voice, 'who offers names to people they don't know!? She could be a serial killer who fancied vigilante justice and that lady in red could be her next victim! Wait… wait… that sounds so familiar…'

She shook her head to rid herself of the sudden and booze induced clutter as she caught the fag end of the redhead repeating her question again – "…her name?"

All thoughts of politely communicating a conversational disinterest were put aside as she spoke to the redhead – "why would I…"

"- because you can't stop looking at her" the redhead cut her off in the middle of her question.

"I could just be looking?" she said, flashing her dimples at the stranger, a playful glint in her eyes – "how do you know I'm interested?"

The answer was prompt and equally playful – "because that's Dr. Torres and –"she paused for effect, quirking an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on her face – "when it comes to Callie Torres? Everyone's interested." She'd said it matter of fact-ly, like it was an old adage. And it was, at least it was old wisdom when it came to their workplace.

She eyed the redhead, a curious look on her face – "are you?" – The redhead met her gaze, looking away from Dr. Torres – "Interested, I mean. Are you interested?"

The redhead blushed – "god no!" she said with a sincere laugh, bringing her hand up for show, wiggling the finger with the wedding band on it – "no, no! I'm married, very happily. Two kids-three if you count the Mister-and a dog-kindda married!"

"Oh. Well thanks…" an awkward pause followed – "for the name…I mean."

"No problem!" she said in a friendly cheer. This woman's changing tone and moods were giving her whiplash. "I'm Carol by the way," she put forward a hand waiting for the woman in front of her to take it.

"Carol, yes…" – she still sounded distracted by the site of this Dr. Torres, but took her hand and gave it a frim shake – "I'm Dr. Robbins. The new – "

" – Oh! You're the new paeds surgeon!" – Carol talked over her. She was perfectly nice, if not just a little annoying.

"Yes… yeah, I'm Arizona – "

"Robbins, yes!"

Another awkward pause settled between the two, Carol not one for silences spoke again – "you should go talk to her." Her tone was surprisingly serious for someone who was pretty giddy just a moment ago.

"I will…" the blonde spoke, sounding uncertain about if she'd in fact do what she's just said she would.

She noticed an empty stool next to Dr. Torres and a glass of amber liquid to go with it. She pointed to the empty seat and asked – "is she waiting for someone to join her?"

Robbins' curiosity and interest made Carol smile – "no, no… it's a Saturday with Marky thing…" – she said with a hint of something dark.

"I'm sorry? What is that?!"

For the first time in this entire exchange Carol looked a little hesitant, reluctant – like she was about to lend money from someone else's wallet – "well… the crash… Dr. Sloan? He didn't… he died, and they were close." Robbins decided she didn't like the way Carol said that, but she let the woman continue – "Rumour is they had a drink here every Saturday to talk and…she still does it." She gave out a heavy breath and continued – "she buys an extra and she sits there as silent as death and when she finishes she leaves."

Dr. Robbins had gone back to eyeing the enigmatic brunette, this time with a hint of pain in her eyes – "that's it?"

"Yeah. It's… that's it."

Carol stood around nervously; in-adept at judging an exit and taking it. "Well…" she dragged the word on, making them both a little uncomfortable and unsure of what to say next – "it was nice to meet you Dr. Robbins. I'll… maybe we'll work a case together."

"Yeah, yes…" the blonde smiled a benevolent smile dripping of 'GOODBYE!' "I…uh… look forward to it."

Carol looked back, pointing at a group of women with her thumb over her shoulders she said – "I'll take your leave. The girls are getting antsy, so…"

"Okay." Arizona nodded her goodbye, again. She watched Carol leave. 'Ugh! Finally!"

She went back to watching the brunette, 'now or never right?!' – she thought to herself. Finishing off her drink in a swift jerk, banging the glass on the table, she walked to the brunette at a hurried pace. Reaching her, she put her elbows at the bar, a little ways away from Torres. Taking a deep and self-affirming breath for confidence, she turned towards the woman whose attention she was seeking – she closed the gap between them and put her hand on the bar-stool Torres had reserved for Mark.

Callie Torres noticed someone making a move for Mark's place in her peripheral vision. She spoke in an unwarranted-ly harsh tone without bothering to look at the person standing next to her – "find another or circle back in ten."

"Calliope, it looks empty to me…"

'That voice'. The little lilt with which her name was said, like it was something warm and glowing being fished out from the depths of the sea – "Arizona?!" she asked, the utterance of that name she'd worn out on so many occasions, now heavy with surprise and awkward on her tongue from being unused for so long.

When she looked up, Arizona registered the tumultuous succession of emotions in those brown eyes – 'surprise, hope, joy, trepidation, remembrance, sorrow, anger' – they'd settled on anger.

"So?" she asked, eliciting a look of confusion from Callie.

"So what?" the brunette asked, more than just a little terse.

Arizona winced, but soldiered on – "can I sit here?"

Callie smiled some, effusing hope into the blonde's heart, but then the smile turned into something else, slowly moving towards a dreadful impassivity. And, as she slowly moved back to face the bar, she said to the woman who'd once been the her first and last thought and everything in between - "find another, or circle back in ten."

A/N (ii): A timeline (as Abed from Community would say) where Arizona wasn't in the crash, wasn't in Seattle or working at SGMW, and wasn't even with Callie. Intrigued?