It started out as a joke.

"Can you even use a scalpel, Torres?"

Callie could use a scalpel.

She isn't sure what possesses her to do it, but the second the challenge leaves Addison's mouth, she has the nearest scalpel in her hand. "Care to find out? Or are you all talk, Montgomery?" she teases back.

Addison raises an eyebrow, never one to shrink away from something new and different. So she rolls up her sleeve and holds out her arm.

So they're really going to do this? They're really going to act like stupid teenagers, completing a dare because they're afraid to be called chicken and disqualified from the game?

Callie steps forward and grips Addison's wrist with her left hand, digging her fingertips in until the redhead gasps. "What?"

"Nothing. Do it." Addison swallows nervously, smirking to mask her discomfort.

Callie grins and brings Addison's arm to her lips, pressing a soft kiss on the underside, watching Addison's eyelids flutter, and then makes a small, shallow cut across the area.

A split second, and then there's blood. Not much, but Addison stares, transfixed, watching the tiny rivulets drip down her arm and fall to the floor. It stings, but not enough to bother her.

Callie notices... notices the way Addison's staring at the blood, and she knows. She lifts a finger to catch some, it splashes softly and her panties are wet.

She was hooked from the first droplet.

They're kissing, hard and fast and deep, and Addison's bleeding again. She feels Callie's fingers slipping over the wound, becoming coated in the viscous liquid, then up her thigh and between her legs, rubbing her clit through her panties.

Callie cuts her again, and keeps rubbing just right, and she comes.

Now she wore shirts with long sleeves, and scarves. She would have been wearing pants, but Callie was the only one looking up her skirt these days.

It wasn't a joke anymore, but it was a dangerous game.