So, I haven't written any fanfictions for Grey's before. And I haven't seen the latest season, but, anyway, I'm writing a 'Calzona' fic, as you may have seen... It's set after all of the Hahn stuff in Season 5, but at Arizona, if that makes any sense. If you hate it, I'll not try and write another one. I just got an idea for one and wanted to try it out... Well, if you're reading this, thanks. If you end up not liking it, I'm sorry... Oh, and I feel as if I should mention that I'm not the biggest fan of Hahn, and I'm bad with phrasing...

Callie observed her surroundings; a dark, moist bar, most of the people in it looking like they could snap at any moment and kill someone. This bar was no Joe's, but just for tonight, it would have to do. Too much had been going on in her personal and work life lately, such as her ex-husband George cheating on her with none other than Izzie Stevens, and her girlfriend, Erica, suddenly breaking things off between them. She could usually keep a suitable 'game face' on, and deal with having to be around those who would try and comfort her, but tonight... Tonight she just could not handle anymore of the crap. She needed to feel like shit, she needed to turn red with anger, and she needed not to be consoled. She needed to be where nobody had any expectations, and she could just live, and think, in the moment. In other words, the clamy bar was her newfound, but temporary, oasis.

She ordered another drink from the bartender, and as she drank it, she analyzed the rest of the crowd. Most of that night's customers had denim and leather outfits. One man had particularly interesting facial hair, or just hair in general; he looked like Leon Russell. She chuckled at this thought. Could it be possible that one man could have such awesome hair? She could tell that the alcohol was getting to her; she was laughing at big, scary biker mens' appearances, not caring about the consequences. She continued to look around the place. A woman, sitting a few tables away from the Leon look-alike, was chugging down drinks rather rapidly. She had sad eyes, so who could blame her for indulging?

The woman with the sad eyes brought Callie back to her situation. She didn't have the worst life ever; she was brought up priviliged, went to the finest schools her father could afford, and she had loved many people. But love, love is what brought her such great pain, made her feel so self-conscious, since she had not yet struck gold in the field. Was it her looks, her attitude that made George cheat on her? Was she not pretty enough? Boring? Then her mind went to Hahn. That bitch was crazy. But Hahn had helped her to discover more about herself, opened her dating prefrences up to another gender. But now that Callie's prefrence was not limited to only men, she found it ironic that she was still so lonely.

Her phone begun to buzz as she finished her drink and ordered a new one. It was Mark. He'd helped her through a lot of personal matters, but she just couldn't bring herself to answer tonight. She pressed the ignore button.

The bartender handed her the refreshed drink, and Callie had just finished gulping it down when a woman, who had apparently remained hidden among the leathery crowd, despite her bright blue shirt, took a seat a few barstools away, and ordered a Smirnoff. Her blonde hair shimmered in the dim lights of the bar, and while she waited for her drink, she started to look around. She skimmed her right first, which proved to have nothing that could hold her attention. Moments later, she looked to her left. She instanly saw a young woman, around her age, with brown hair, and sad eyes, but yet still innocent. Her blue eyes locked with the brown eyes, and she couldn't look away. Not only was the woman beautiful, but her gaze was gripping and intense. The blonde, sensing attraction in the gaze, smiled and moved a couple of seats to the left, ending up by the woman.

The blonde smiled and said to the brunett, quoting a Dylan song, "What's a sweetheart like you doing in a dump like this?"

Callie's spirits were lifted a little; a beautiful woman seemed to have taken interest in her. Her confidence rose, she straightened her posture, smiled, and responded, "One could ask you the same thing..." She pasued, waiting for the blonde to provide her name.

"Arizona," she replied, her blue eyes twinkling.

"Calliope, but most people call me Callie."

Arizona's lips formed a smile upon hearing the unique name, "Well, Calliope. If you tell me your story, I'll tell you mine."

Callie couldn't resist Arizona's charm, so she motioned to the bartender for two more drinks, and suggested to the blonde, "We may need these..." She waited a moment before she began.

The two ended up staying at the bar for a few more hours, telling their stories, then proceeded to give in to their drunkeness, making cheesy jokes in general, and about the bar's other customers, and giggling like schoolgirls at them. Callie could not help but smile when she looked at Arizona; Arizona could quite possibly be just what she needed...

Well, there's my first try at a Grey's fic... If anyone reads it, I may continue... I may continue regardless, just to humor myself... I know I don't spell very well... Thanks for putting up with it... Well, thanks for reading... Have a good week! d-_-b