Title: Darts for Three

Pairing: Erica/Callie/Mark

Rating: M

Disclaimer: In Part One

Summary: The trio of surgeons have a contemplative cab ride.

Erica POV

I look over at Callie, seated in the middle of the back seat of this cab and she's staring straight ahead, out the front window of the car. I can see movement behind her eyes as if her mind is moving a thousand miles per minute, as if she's giving herself a one-on-one peptalk. I wish I could read what's going on up there right now. What she's thinking about this situation, what she thinks of me for pushing us here. The light from each of the streetlights we pass rhythmically falls upon her and I can't help but stare. There's an intensity in her eyes as I know she's weighing the pros and cons of what we're doing, what we're about to do. There's a gentleness to her features, though, as if she's still confident and collected about whatever could possibly happen. And there's a little bit of a head bob now and again, and I can only believe she's making little jokes to herself in that inner monologue of hers.

She's the reason I'm in this taxi right now. She's the reason I'm making a move so unlike Erica Hahn, it surprises even me. Calliope Torres is the reason I flirted with Mark Sloan all night and am now inviting him back to my house, to my bed. I won't lie and say Mark didn't catch my eye when I first started at Seattle Grace, because he did. I don't give nicknames lightly; the man is pretty. As much as I prefer to keep my personal life outside of hospital walls, I can admit to a fantasy or two early on about us fulfilling some basic, human desires. And as much as our banter tends to fill up the time we spend together, I know on some basic level, we both get off on it. We both excel at what we do, at what we are in life. Neither of us have much competition at our level of performance, so when we do find equals who can give as good as they get, we thrive on it. Our competitive edges partially define us, and out of that need to be pushed by people in our own echelon, has come this mutual attraction. And I mean attraction literally, I am drawn to him in a way that I can not explain and don't really wish to think any more deeply about.

And the truth is, I don't really need to think about it anymore. Because as soon as Callie and I started spending a lot of our free time together, I knew things were changing. And now we have reached a point where this connection between us has become tangible, it has become something with weight and breadth, something that demands attention, that demands action. The looks, the laughing, the easy conversations soon grew into nights of drinking wine and mornings of yoga. I look back from Mark to Callie, thinking of all the positions they had forced us into that morning. And how Callie had eased her body into all of them and how I had struggled to hold my muscles in place, willing myself to be strong and not falter. I laugh a little at this though, as if Callie or anyone else would have been judging my yoga skills that day.

Callie looks over at my laugh and gives me a quizzical look. I smile, probably smugly, at her, and her eyebrows turn upward. There's a challenge now in her eyes, silently asking me if I know what I'm doing. I reach out and grab her hand. Without taking my eyes off hers, I begin rubbing my thumb over her skin, half intending to calm her down and half intending to rile her up. It begins to work as her face softens and desire floods through her eyes.

After yoga, this thing between us grew exponentially. Touching when touches weren't necessarily warranted, intimate gestures that crossed friend boundaries no matter how we looked at it. We've been pushing, mostly subconsciously but perhaps also a little aware, because we thought no one could tell, not even each other. Then Addison came and read Callie like the open book she is. I know I was relieved to have it out in the open – at least I knew I wasn't making it all up. I'm too young and too talented a surgeon to have my mind start going on me now. And even though Callie retreated at first, I think she secretly relished the acknowledgment we were able to make.

I look down at our hands together, then up to Callie's face, where's she's staring at me in a way I haven't been looked at in a very long time. Staring at her lips reminds me of the elevator a few days ago, where I either made the bravest or stupidest move ever. I couldn't let Mark's challenge go; something about the way he phrased his confidence egged me on and gave me a green light to meet his challenge. Mid-kiss, the Dr. Hahn side of my brain began to panic, so I threw out a one liner and walked off that elevator much more confident than I felt.

I guess that's part of the surgeon mentality. We have to believe in ourselves to do what we do. We have to believe in our abilities, believe in our skills, to the point of cockiness occasionally. If we weren't headstrong people, we'd never have developed the ability to cut through people's skins, to manipulate their insides. It is what is allowing me to pretend I'm so cool right now. I can turn off the nerves in my brain and just go on something else. Usually that something else is grounded in logic and reason, but tonight, my brain is running on something else – desire, challenge, and the loss of inhibition caused by the last few drinks we downed at Joe's.

I look out the window to get my bearings and figure out how far we are from my house. I had given the taxi driver my address almost instinctively, but felt better about the decision after realizing I really don't want to know where Mark lives and after thinking about the possibility of Yang catching us. No, for right now, this is still my game, my rules, so it follows that it should be on my turf. I laugh again to myself, and this time when Callie hears my laugh, she leans in and quiets me with a kiss . . .

Mark POV

In college, after a party once, I walked these two sorority girls home, holding both their hands the whole way. At the door, they each kissed me on the cheek and then kissed each other. They invited me up, but by the time I had come back from using their bathroom, they were both passed out asleep on the couch. I threw a blanket over them and left. Because that's the type of guy I am.

And I'm still that type of guy. My relationships, or lack thereof, are what they are, but I'm honest about who I am and what I want, and have no qualms with my life. But I know enough at this point in my life to not stick around where I'm not wanted. I may joke and prod and push, but that's my way of saying I care. Trying to work my way into a woman's pants is the kind of affection I know best, so if I'm still trying, it just means I like you.

And so now I find myself in the back seat of a taxi cab seated next to my best friend, and sometimes fantastically sexy on-call room partner, with the blonde haired, blue eyed Dr. Erica Hahn on the other side. Dr. I leave my personal life at home Hahn, Dr. you know I have a wild side to me Hahn. I called it from the start, but was just beginning to get used to her being beyond my reach when talks of Callie and Erica and threesomes just started popping up all around me. You'd have to be blind to not see what was going on between these two women, and for the most part, I was just having fun being witness to it all. But here and now? Something is going to happen tonight and I'm going to let it. It almost seems like something these two need to get out of their system, and hey, if I can help facilitate, it would be worse to say no, right?

I'm trying desperately to remain stoic, calm and collected, like the ladies' man Erica detests me being and Callie knows I'm not in real life. But around every turn tonight, these two have been throwing me off my game. Between her gorgeous glowing skin, her curvy lines, and the way she knows how to move her body, Callie can always get me excited. There is a confidence common to her personality as a surgeon and her sexuality that impress me on a constant basis. She doesn't swoon over me, like the nurses and drug reps and I don't ever use any lines on her because I know they won't work anyway. I could be going home just with Callie right now and be happy. But tonight? No, I'm not going to begrudge myself this. I keep expecting one of us to panic and call the whole thing off, but until that happens, I'm going to enjoy myself.

I snap out of my deliberation and look over at the two women beside me. Erica has one of Callie's hands in hers and they are just staring at each other. It really is amazing to watch this unfold between them. I start to look out the window again, but not before I see Erica laugh and Callie lean over and kiss her.

Callie POV

I am looking through the front window because I don't know where else to look. Mark is to my left and I know if I glance that way, there will be some suggestive smirk on his face as if to say, well look where we are. All I usually associate Mark with anyway is sex, and so looking at him will not help me right now. I am already turned on. I am already wet. My brain is already cloudy, already mushy from Erica and her darts. Her body pressed up behind mine while she was wrapping my fingers into the right position. She might as well been speaking another language, well besides English or Spanish, into my ear at that point because I wasn't hearing any of it. All I could focus on was her chest against my back and her hot breath leaking into my ear. And now she's on my right, alternatively looking out her window and stealing glances at me. I know she thinks she's being stealthy, but she can't fool me. I like being able to crack her tricks, her façade, and I think she likes it to.

But right now, I need to stare straight ahead, because if I look at her, I'll lose it. The blonde hair, the piercing eyes, that demeanor that makes me think I could crack in her arms and it would all be ok. I know her well enough to know she's not that strong through and through, but she still has enough strength for me to draw upon. And she used that strength tonight. She pulled out that confidence and flung it around the bar like she seduces people via darts every night. Using her sarcastic one liners and manipulating the space between our bodies until she had both Mark and I ready to do anything.

And here we are, about to do anything, about to do everything. I sit here contemplating just what is about to happen, and I don't even know. My duel personalities are battling each other and all I can picture is a boxing ring with angel surgeon Callie in one corner ready to face off against sexy, no holds barred Callie dressed scantily in lingerie in the other corner. I am intelligent and grounded. I worked my way through undergrad, pushed through med school, and am now at the end of six years of hard work as an orthopedic resident at this hospital. I am rational and careful and smart. I am also a rock star. I am not conventional, even within the hospital. I am a female orthopedic surgeon. I build bones out of scrap metal. And in my personal life – well, I live in basements, I marry interns in Elvis churches in Vegas, I sleep with manwhores. And now – I fall for women. And that strong, independent Latina woman my mother raised me to be is telling me to go for this. Give in pleasure and throw boundaries out the window, because that's what I do anyway.

I hear Erica laugh and turn my gaze to look at her. My eyes question whether this is something she really wants and she answers by grabbing my hand. Her cool confidence threatens to unravel me as her thumb traces patterns over my skin. I am lost in the feeling of the place where our bodies are touching, scared and excited to think of anymore connection between us. Her slender, surgeon's fingers are sending sparks through my body, and straight into my panties, making me wetter than I already was. I am thinking about her hands on other parts of my body, I am thinking of my lips on the skin of her neck, I am thinking of a million reasons this is a good idea, as all my concerns and inhibitions begin to be displaced by pure adrenaline, by pure lust. I begin to look out the front window again, in an attempt to regain composure and figure out how far we are from Erica's house when I hear her laugh again. I could wonder what on Earth she's laughing about, but instead, reflex takes over and I turn my head, lean in and capture that laugh with my lips.

Erica POV

Callie's lips are on mine and though she's taken me by surprise, I respond quickly and deepen the kiss, opening my mouth up to her. She explores with her tongue, feeling out my mouth, gliding over my tongue and teeth. I melt into the embrace, knowing that Mark is watching, knowing that the cab driver has every clue as to what is going on back here, but probably no idea where the three of us are going together. Just as Callie and I are on the verge of taking this somewhere it shouldn't go in the backseat of any car, the taxi slows down and the driver coughs a little, barely masking a laugh. I hand him money to cover the fare and a generous tip and Callie, Mark and I rush out of the cab, walking briskly, nearly stumbling up to my front door.