A/N: I hope the prologue was enough to capture your attention. Now it's time to dive into the thick of it.
Happy Birthday to my Luxury girl, Alexa. I love you! I hope you have an excellent birthday and an even better year.
Chapter 1
When the past comes back to haunt you, are the stakes ever too high to save the ones you love?
It was colder in New York than it was in Seattle. The cloud cover was about the same; but for some reason, it was always colder in New York. Derek hadn't missed the chill or the overbearing feeling that someone was watching him. He blamed the latter on his father. New York was just always colder. Pulling his jacket tighter around his body, he picked his daughter out of the cab. She wrapped her arms around his neck. The driver was piling their bags on the sidewalk beside the cab. Meredith slid out of the car and smiled at him, their son sleeping in her arms. Derek shut the door and put Zola down on the ground. Tapping his foot impatiently, the driver waited for Derek to hand him the cash that would pay for their trip. Nodding gruffly, he left the bags and climbed back into his cab.
Meredith rolled her eyes as the driver pulled away, "As much appreciation for a tip as Seattle huh?"
"Less," Derek laughed. He helped Zola put her backpack on before shouldering their duffle bags and grabbing the rolling luggage. "How's Brandon?"
"Sleeping, for now," Meredith shifted him on her shoulder and kissed her husband. "You didn't tell me how cold it is here."
"Glad it's not just me," Derek said. He pushed open the garden gate of his mother's large suburban house and let his family into the yard. Zola coughed just as she stepped inside. Even though it was a little chilly, the trees were in full bloom and the typical breeze sent their fragrance through the air. Zola's allergies always took a turn for the worst when they came to New York.
As if on cue, Grandma Shepherd came out of the front door of her house with a reprimand, "Derek Shepherd, I know you did not bring me a sick child. You're a doctor for god's sake."
"Hi ma," he leaned in to kiss her cheek before she forgot that he existed and zoned in on her grandchildren. "It's just allergies, right Zo?"
"Right," Zola turned around and grinned at her parents before wiping her nose on her sleeve. Mrs. Shepherd looked at Derek and Meredith disapprovingly.
Meredith took her daughter's arm, "Zola, you know better than that."
The youngster grinned sheepishly and looked at her grandmother. "Hi grandma!"
"My, how old are you now? Ten? Eleven?" the white haired woman crouched down to her granddaughter's level.
"I'm six, grandma," Zola laughed. She threw her arms around her grandma and the older woman picked her up.
"That you are," she laughed. Then she turned to Meredith. "Hello dear, how is my favorite grandson?"
"Sleeping, miraculously," Meredith responded. "I don't know how with that cab ride."
They all turned to walk into the house, Derek still carrying all of their bags. He surveyed the house and saw that everything was as he remembered it. The dark blue paint on the siding was starting to peel; he was amazed that some of it wasn't already completely stripped away. New York had been particularly brutal the previous winter. The flowers in the boxes on the porch were still dead, typical of his mother. She never cleaned out the last year's flowers until late spring. As it was March, he should have expected it. But the inside of the house would be spotless. It was always spotless. Nothing was out of place, ever. Even as a kid, he house was always perfect. He could make the biggest mess and after leaving the room for five minutes it would be spotless again. It had infuriated him.
"Derek," Meredith called over her shoulder and he realized that he'd stopped moving.
"Sorry."
The ground sunk a little underneath his feet. It had been raining for the few days before they'd arrived. He heard Zola telling his mother that she was starting school next year and that her little brother had pulled her braids on the airplane. Meredith laughed and he felt the smile forming on his face. Ever since the day Zola had shown up on their doorstep with the social worker, Meredith had been different. She'd been happy, even when she was exhausted at four in the morning. And then they had finally gotten pregnant with Brandon and she couldn't stop smiling.
The excitement and energy that coursed through their children was infectious. Motherhood had suited Meredith better than Derek had known. Despite her fears that she would become another Ellis Grey, her children had brought something to her that no one else could have. She was bound and determined to give her children the loving and stable life she had never had. Spina bifida plagued their daughter, but Zola stayed under their surveillance constantly and was by far a normal child. Their son was thankfully healthy, but Derek would argue that he was anything from perfect. If ever there was a fussy toddler, Brandon was it. The kid rarely slept. He constantly pulled his sister's braids if she got too close and threw temper tantrums over basically nothing. But Meredith thought he was the next super star surgeon in the family. He certainly had the temperament for it.
Walking through the door, Derek realized how long it had been since he'd been home. White walls met light wood floors, and as he thought the house was spotless. He set the bags down on the landing to his left and followed his family into the sitting room where his mother had deposited herself and the grandchildren. Now Zola was sitting beside her and Brandon was awake in her arms. "I have never seen him awake and that quiet since he was an infant."
"Don't jinx if, Derek," Meredith chastised him. He sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "We need to keep him this way or your mother will never keep them."
"There's drinks in the fridge, Derek," his mother said.
Derek glared at her, "I suppose that means you would like me to get you something?"
"Well, I am holding your son and keeping him quiet," she stated superiorly.
"And you wonder where I get it from," Derek murmured against Meredith's hair. "What would you like, Ma?"
"A coke would be fine, thank you for asking," she said, smiling at the sleepy toddler in her arms. "So Meredith, how was your flight?"
"Good, we caught the wind and gained about an hour. That was nice. Brandon decided that pulling Zola's braids would be a good way to pass the time," Meredith said. "Let's just say that we were not the most loved passengers aboard that plane."
"It would seem not," Mrs. Shepherd said. "You are rotten, little man."
"He's a surgeon."
"Temperament like his father," Mrs. Shepherd nodded. "Don't you tell Derek that I said that either."
Meredith laughed. The smiled that seemed permanently fixed on her lips was now beaming down on her adorable children.
"And this one," Mrs. Shepherd turned to Zola, "is much more like her mother."
"Oh, I disagree," Meredith said. "She's too feisty."
"Like Aunt Cristina," Zola chimed in with a childish grin.
"Brandon doesn't get away with pulling her braids for long if we don't step in," Meredith said. As Zola launched into a tirade about how obnoxious she found her little brother, Meredith took the chance to survey the house that she had never been in. It filled her with dread. China cabinets lined the wall behind her, full of very breakable objects. She could just see Brandon in one of his fits. White walls did not agree with her children, and she feared that when they came back from their trip that they would be repainting the house before they could return to their home.
"Where are you going again?"
Derek's mother's words knocked her out of her reverie. "Ah, Mexico."
"Yes, but what part?"
"Mazatlan," Meredith said in her very American accent. She grimaced at the thought of what Callie would say. She could hear the Latina correcting her. Callie had been trying to fix their accents for weeks, but it had done little good as far as Meredith was concerned. "Hopefully only for a few weeks. The doctor's that they have heading everything up seem to have a pretty good idea of what they are doing."
"Then what are you all needed for? Surely Seattle Grace needn't send all of their finest to this charity."
Handing in mother her coke, Derek reentered the conversation, "Because they don't know how to use the equipment, and they can't train all the staff by themselves. And the first few weeks are going to be busy with a huge influx of people who haven't been able to get medical attention due to their lack of financial means or transportation."
"I see," Mrs. Shepherd handed Brandon back to his mother. "And how do my grandbabies feel about spending the whole spring with their grandmother?"
"I'm not a baby," Zola said defiantly.
"Oh yes," Mrs. Shepherd said. "She's nothing like you at all, Meredith."
The adults broke out laughing. Zola glared at them. She hated being called a baby. Brandon was the baby. She didn't cry or whine like he did. She didn't pull his hair the way he pulled her braids, which gave her a headache. She was six years old, she was a big girl. "I'm not a baby."
"We know you aren't, sweetheart," Derek pulled her onto his lap and began tickling her to elicit that happy giggle. They talked for a little longer about their trip and then grandma decided it was lunch time.
Once the sandwiches were made and the chips were passed around the table, Zola asked a question. "Mommy, where are we going?"
With a careful glance at Derek, Meredith cautiously chose her words, "Mommy and Daddy have to go to Mexico for work."
"Am I going?"
"No. You have to stay here and help grandma take care of Brandon. You're the big girl remember?"
"I need your help, Zo," Mrs. Shepherd said. Making Zola believe that she was the key difference in success was the best approach to getting her to do something.
"Well, alright. Will I get to go sometime?"
"Sure," Meredith said with a reassuring smile. "One day, maybe when your brother is as grown up as you."
Zola puffed up with pride and began munching on her grilled cheese sandwich. The adults breathed a sigh of relief and Derek was thankful that his mother hadn't said anything about them not telling the children that they were leaving for an extended trip and they would have to stay with their grandmother. In between bites, a now curious Zola wanted all of the details. "Why are you going?"
"They built a new hospital," Derek said simply. But he knew that his daughter would require much more of a description than that.
"So?"
"So we have to go help the doctors down there," Meredith supplied a better explanation than her husband.
"Are they stupid?"
"Zola!"
"Sorry."
"They are not stupid. They just have a lot to do so we are going to help them. Kind of like how you help me clean the house," Meredith continued.
"Does Sofia get to go?"
"No, Sofia does not get to go."
"Who is Sofia?"
Derek answered, "Mark, Callie, and Arizona's daughter."
"Oh yes, my other son."
"Are Mrs. Callie, Mrs. Arizona, and Mr. Mark going to Mexico?" Zola continued to pester them with questions.
"Yes."
"Where is Sofia going?"
"To her grandparents, just like you," Derek said. "Now eat."
Every other question was about Sofia. The two girls had gotten to be close friends at the hospital daycare. Rolling her eyes, Meredith got up and poured Zola more juice before setting more bites out for Brandon to scrutinize. "She won't eat unless she has something to drink with it."
"A useful piece of information," Mrs. Shepherd said with a smile. "She can have as much as she wants."
"I wouldn't say that," Derek cautioned. "She drinks like a camel that has been stranded in the middle of the desert for months. As if she'd never seen a liquid. Slow down, Zo!"
The youngster sat her cup back down on the table and picked up her sandwich again. They continued to eat in a peaceful silence until the checked tablecloth was littered with nothing more than crumbs and empty plates. Derek reached over and picked Brandon up out of the old highchair. Grabbing Zola's hand he led them upstairs to his old bedroom where the bunk beds still laid nestled against the wall from when Mark lived with them. He got Zola into the lower bunk and pulled out the port-a-crib his mother had gotten for his son.
"Nap time."
Zola nodded with a yawn, "But I'm not tired, Daddy."
"Yes, you are," he smiled. "We had a long day. Mommy is going to take a nap too."
"What about you?"
"I have work to do," he said. "Goodnight."
His room was untouched from his youth and when he turned out the light his superman night light flicked on. He knew that hadn't been there for years and he smiled at the thought of his mother pulling it out for his kids. Brandon would love the room in a few years. It was just the kind of room a little boy dreamed of. Superhero collectibles lined the shelves, neatly displayed but well played with. Marvel and DC comic books, in plastic protective sleeves, lay in haphazard piles on the floor. The posters on the wall of Batman and Spiderman reminded him of a much different time. A time when all he wanted was to be like them and got after the men who killed his father. His tuba was still leaning against the wall by his closet, safely stored in its hard case. He looked and remembered for another moment before shutting the door to the bedroom and his memories.
"I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost," his mother said with a knowing glance at her son as he descended the carpeted stairs.
"Just reaffirming that you are, in fact, a pack rat, mom," he laughed.
"I see," she smiled. "He'll have to show you his room when the kids wake up, Meredith. You two can walk down memory lane together."
Meredith turned and flashed Derek an excited wink before following Mrs. Shepherd back into the family room. The woman had been talking about Zola starting school the following fall and whether or not Brandon would be going to preschool. Zola was enrolled at The Bush School for the fall. They wanted to give her the best education they could afford. Brandon was going to attend a local jumpstart program, but they had yet to iron out the kinks with their work schedules.
"Sofia, poor kid, her parents are already bickering about schools," Meredith said.
"She's younger?"
"Yes, she still has a year. But Callie wants her enrolled early and at a private school. Arizona wants public school so that Sofia has a normal life, no prep school."
"Ah, I thought that she and Zola were the same age for some reason. So, Mark?"
"Couldn't care less," Derek answered. "It's Mark. He's just happy making Sofia happy. It's Callie and Arizona that you have to watch out for. They are the real authority."
"Derek!"
"What, Meredith?" he shot her a look. "You have to admit that Mark tends to act more like a cool uncle. He has his say, but Callie and Arizona usually present a united front."
"As it should be," Mrs. Shepherd stated.
"Mom?"
"They are the stable couple, correct?" she asked with a noncommittal shrug. "Mark should have less of a role as a parent until he gets his act together."
"Mom, that's not what I meant. They've worked out the co-parenting thing quite nicely, I think. Arizona and Mark even offered to loan Sofia to us had we not gotten Zola. I'm not sure if it was a joke or not, but they are firmly of the belief that it takes a village to raise a child. But seeing the two of them get along is strange, or it used to be. I guess it's more normal now."
"Do you remember him screaming at Arizona right after Callie's accident? I thought one of them would end up dead," Meredith said, her hand coming to rest on Derek's forearm.
"I think the whole hospital did."
"What happened?" Mrs. Shepherd was always eager to hear the hospital gossip, especially when it concerned her children. Ever since Mark was a boy, she had deemed him her adopted son.
"Well this was years ago," Meredith explained. "But Mark and Arizona were arguing over how best to save Callie's life and the baby, Sofia, and Mark told Arizona that she was nothing. That Callie and Sofia were his family and she didn't have a say."
"That man," Derek sighed as his mother went on another tirade about how Mark needed to grow up and learn some respect. "I swear, he has no common sense. He gets a hot head about everything, all you surgeons do. At least the ones who grew up in this family. Speaking of family, Amelia is coming tomorrow, Derek. But Mark especially. I cannot believe that he would actually say something like that to someone. I need to have another–"
"Ma," Derek cut her off. "He's a grown man, you don't need to sit him down and have a talk with him about anything. They worked it out."
Mrs. Shepherd looked at him reproachfully.
"And what is this about Amelia coming?"
"She said that she needed a break from L.A. So she is coming home to help me watch those two," she indicated upstairs, "while you two are off."
Derek groaned. Amelia was not who he wanted influencing his children. Before a fight broke out though, Meredith slid her hand down into Derek's and told him that she was tired and needed to be shown what room they were staying in. His mother called after them that Nancy's room was all ready for them.
"Don't say anything, Derek," Meredith warned as he grabbed their luggage from the landing to take upstairs with them.
"We're going to come back from Mexico to find our kids strung out on sleeping pills," he growled under his breath. "I love my sister, but she's not who I want looking after my kids."
"They will be fine. Amelia has been sober for years. She's not going to turn out kids into druggies."
He glared at her, but opened the door to his older sister's room and hauled their luggage inside. In contrast to his dark blue room, Nancy's room was a light, bright yellow. Ornate furniture left an air of sophistication that had always suited his sister well. Fake flowers in baskets decorated the dressers and glass lamps engraved with similar flowers adorned the bedside tables. It was really as if time had stopped in this house the day he moved out for college. Stowing their luggage by the double doors of the closet, he flopped down on the bed with Meredith.
"Stay with me," she whispered, kissing his gruff cheek. He needed to shave.
"Work calls," he laughed at the face she made. She hated when he let his stubble grow out and get rough.
"We can worry about that speech tomorrow."
"You mean 'I' can worry about it," he grinned at her. She was just along for the ride this time.
"Right."
The mischievous light in her eyes won him over and he kissed her gently before getting underneath the covers. They had a convention tomorrow for all of the teams heading down to Mexico. While exhaustion was no stranger to them, this was one task they needed to be ready for. They left in two days to meet Owen with Cristina and Teddy down in Houston, where they would present information gleaned from this conference to other parties before heading to Mazatlán to actually give this new hospital life.
"It's going to be a long day tomorrow," he sighed. "This whole process has been…"
"…incredible."
"Yes, incredible. Incredibly drawn out and unnecessary. Why we can't all convene in Mazatlán makes no sense to me," he huffed.
Meredith kissed him. "It's the politics of it. They want the best publicity and in order to get that they have to do everything here."
"When did you get so insightful?" he asked her.
She laughed, "I wish."
They laid in silence for a few moments. She could hear his heart beating from the way she was cradled on his chest. He counted the slowing breaths that she took as her eyes began to drift shut. It had been a long couple of days for them. The trip to Mexico had started out sounding like a vacation, but it was quickly turning into more work than anyone had imagined. Not to mention that everyone who had kids had to make long term care arrangements.
"Do you think they'll be okay?" Meredith finally whispered.
"They'll be fine. They're with their grandmother," Derek assured her.
"But what about Zola," Meredith pushed.
He gave in. "I guess it's a good thing that my sister is coming after all. My mother probably called her on purpose."
Meredith frowned, he could feel her face shift against his chest, "Brandon is so young though."
"He will be fine. We'll give them lots of hugs and kisses and we'll call them every night, and it will be fine."
"We should have let your father come visit and take Sofia back with him. How much simpler would that have been?"
"How many times do we have to go over this?" Callie sighed in frustration, packing the last of her personal items into one of two duffle bags laying open on the bed.
"Seriously, then we wouldn't be going through all of this. Think about it."
"No, you think about it, Arizona," Callie said. "You wouldn't have been able to stand it, nor would I, or Mark, watching her leave on that plane."
"Do you realize how long we are going to be on a plane now though?" Arizona followed Callie around the room. "First Miami, and then all the way back across the country to the middle of Mexico?"
Callie rolled her eyes and continued packing her scrubs, ignoring her wife's constant pestering. This was how it had been for the entire past week leading up to their impending flights. The second half of their trip would be mostly over water, but she was tired of trying to explain that to Arizona. This was going to be a long trip, undoubtedly. She would rather spend two days on a plane and know that her daughter was safe. And Arizona felt the same way; they had made this decision together.
"Do you realize how many hours–"
"Yes, Africa, I get it," Callie finally snapped. "You've been saying all of this for a week, never mind that it doesn't make a difference because we leave in a few hours. So pack and get over it. We're going across the country and back."
Arizona walked out of their bedroom no longer fuming, but hurt. She didn't think that four years later Callie would still be holding Africa against her. But Callie had always told her that she was the queen of holding grudges. Slumping onto the couch, she stared at the bags by the door. She'd been packed for days and she'd packed all of Sofia's things that morning. Callie was the one who always waited until the last minute. Sofia's pick luggage, which she had picked out herself, was stacked beside her duffle bags. The youngster was currently asleep, a feat neither of them knew how they had managed to pull off. Hopes were high that they could keep her sleepy enough so that she would sleep through the plane ride to Miami, but their four year old had a mind of her own.
Being honest, she had been harping for a week about the same thing. No wonder Callie was sick of it. Hands rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wipe some of the exhaustion away, she stood to go back into the bedroom.
"I'm sorry," Callie startled her from behind the couch. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it how it sounded."
The blonde nodded slowly. "I'm already packed, in case you haven't noticed."
Callie's melodic laughter rang out and she hugged her wife close. "I love you."
Arizona sighed, "I hate this."
"Yeah."
"I don't want to leave her for that long. Not with your mother at least," Arizona said bitterly.
"Ahhh, so that's your problem," Callie grinned and dug her fingers into Arizona's sides, causing the blonde to gasp in surprise.
"No! Calliope stop! Stop!" Arizona snorted in laughter. She jumped out of Callie's arms and ran a few paces back out of arm's reach. "Yes, I have an issue with your mother. I know she's been better lately, but what if she starts putting ideas in Sofia's head or, or neglects her, or–"
Callie held up her hand to silence her wife. "Stop."
Arizona hung her head. "I worry about her."
"I know," Callie said. "You think I don't?"
"You know that's not what–"
"She will be fine. My parents will be great with her, and my sister will be there part of the time so she'll have three cousins to play with," Callie smiled. She could see the worry written over the lines of her wife's face. "And we'll be back with her before we know it.
Arizona let Callie pull her into her arms again, soothe her with a hummed melody, and rock her in a quiet dance. This was one of the many reasons why she loved her wife. Calliope could see the worry and questions on her face and assure her without having to say a word. The smell of Callie's hair was the most comforting scent. To distress after work she would simply bury her head in Callie's thick mane of hair and breathe. Her arms tightened around Callie. The guilt of things she could never explain sometimes overwhelmed her in moments like this. Her wife would never understand why she was terrified for her daughter's safety, so she pawned off her feelings on Callie's less than supportive mother, who had very recently come around to at least acknowledge their relationship and their daughter. She hadn't been plagued by these fears for years; she'd never had a reason to. As long as she was with her family, she didn't have to worry about them. But those fears that had made it so easy to walk away from Callie before were the reasons why it was so hard for her to leave even one member of her family behind now. She didn't even like that Mark wouldn't be going with them.
Callie felt Arizona's grip around her tighten. It was one of those things that she had stopped arguing about. Her wife had secrets, secrets about her past that she wasn't and had never been willing to share. But they were dark secrets; her wife had gotten into something dirty and underhanded and had paid a dear price. That much was what she had deduced on her own intuition. She would let Arizona hold on, she would let Arizona move past the place that she was at on her own, and then they would be off on their grand Mexican adventure. Tucking Arizona's head beneath her chin, she breathed in the familiar scent that was her wife. They'd been through a lot, from Arizona being willing to walk away at the drop of a hat to her dragging all of them with her to Africa. And those plane rides with a toddler were murder. She would have rather been told that she could never perform surgery again than fly to Malawi that many times.
The house was spotless. Arizona cleaned like it was going out of style, and for Callie it had. She hated cleaning the house. That was why she cooked. It was a system that they had worked out early in their relationship and were slowly perfecting. Every now and then they would switch it up for a change of pace, though when Arizona cooked it was with Mark's help. She saw Arizona's and Sofia's bags by the door. She knew that Arizona's passport was tucked in her purse, along with the plane tickets and Sofia's stuffed tiger. She didn't have to look to know. Arizona was always prepared.
Meanwhile, she had a half packed duffle bag in the bedroom and had yet to find her passport. They were leaving in less than four hours and wouldn't be back for at least a month. The realization startled her. "Babe," she whispered.
"Mmm," Arizona murmured against her chest, her fingers flexing over Callie's back.
"I need to go finish packing. And we have to get Sofia up and ready. I have to find my passport still and we have to make sure–"
"I have your passport," Arizona looked up and smiled. "And I'll get the angel."
"So I can pack?"
"So you can pack."
Callie smiled and ran a hand through her long wavy hair. She preferred it a little shorter, but Arizona always commented on it when it was longer like this. She liked the way her wife teased it and pulled it when they were making love. So she kept it long.
Running into the bathroom, she grabbed her toothbrush and stuffed it into the small leather bag she had her shampoo, conditioner, and face wash in. Double checking the bag, she zipped it and tossed it in the duffle bag open on her bed. She had about thirty pairs of scrubs, three lab coats, her favorite scrub caps, and enough lingerie to last a honeymoon couple three months. It was an interesting bag, she laughed to herself. She and Arizona had never gotten to go on their honeymoon, so leaving a few days early under the pretense of making sure that everything was ready for the group was giving them something resembling a honeymoon. At least to some extremely busy person, it could be seen that way. That was how Arizona was looking at it, and was planning heavily on. But Callie had a different goal for this trip.
All of her information had led her to Mazatlán, but she'd never had a reason to go before. And she most likely never would again. Explaining to Arizona why she needed to take a sudden and extended trip to Mexico was impossible, especially with Sofia. In hindsight, she should have gone after Arizona left her in the airport years ago. But she hadn't, so now she was sneaking around and clearing her computer history of gang research and tricking her wife into a fake honeymoon so that she could find her brother.
Snapping out of the thoughts, she stuffed a steno pad full of notes into her bag before zipping it up. She could hear Sofia's happy giggling in the living room, and Arizona chiding her about her choice in shoes. Rolling her eyes, she shouldered her heavy duffle bags.
"Mamá!" Sofia lit up when she saw Callie.
"Hi sleepyhead, are you giving Mommy a hard time?" Callie sat her bags down and picked her four year old up. Sofia shook her head and smacked Callie in the face with a messy pigtail. "All ready to go see tus abuelos?"
"Sí, Mamá," Sofia laughed as Callie tickled her. Arizona grabbed the bags on the floor and Callie bent down to re-shoulder her duffle bags.
"Then let's go," Callie gave her cheek a kiss and winked at Arizona. "Time to get some dinner and then get on the plane." Between dinner and the security line, Sofia was starting to get bored and antsy. They had another half an hour to wait for their flight. Arizona pulled out her iPhone and played an episode of Blues Clues to keep Sofia occupied. "The invention of those things was a god send."
Callie put her arm around Arizona's shoulders and kissed her forehead. The blonde closed her eyes for a moment. They flashed open again when Callie laughed. "You sure about that?"
Sofia was standing up in her seat, bouncing on her still chubby legs. Arizona's iPhone was sliding further and further down, getting closer to Sofia's foot. She snatched it up before it could get stomped to pieces. That was the only thing about those phones; they were the farthest thing from indestructible. Callie started laughing as Arizona scowled.
"I told you," Callie started.
"I am not getting one of those otterbox whatyoumacallit things," Arizona said quickly. "They are big and gaudy and I like my pink sparkly rhinestone case. It's thin and fits in my pocket."
"And when your phone shatters because you," Callie paused briefly as she searched for an example, "let Sofia play with it, don't come crying to me."
Arizona cocked her head, "That's mean."
"Everyone needs a little tough love," Callie grinned.
Arizona mocked her.
"Umm, ladies," a uniformed attendant holding Sofia appeared before them. "I think this belongs to you."
Callie's tan cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She disentangled herself from her wife and took her daughter from the young man. "I'm so sorry."
"Not a problem. She's delightful," he winked at Sofia before walking away.
Arizona groaned, "You are already breaking hearts. Your father was right; we're going to be beating the guys"
"and girls"
"off with sticks," Arizona said. They chuckled together for a minute.
"Did you just say that Mark was right?" Callie asked, eyebrows raised.
Arizona thought for a moment, a sour look crossing her face, "I did, didn't I? Ugh."
Their flight to Miami was uneventful. Sofia thankfully took a little nap so they weren't the hated parents who couldn't control their kid. They met Callie's parents at the airport for the hand off. By that point, Sofia was grumpy and nearly unmanageable. She'd been restless on the plane and by the time she saw her grandparents she was hardly able to stay in anyone's arms for more than five minutes before squirming out of them. After a quick hello, goodbye, and a kiss on the cheek, they said goodbye to their daughter and left to find their terminal for their next flight.
On the plane this time, Arizona sidled up to Callie, running a hand over the brunette's thigh and squeezing, indicating that she was very ready for their fake honeymoon. Callie flashed her a sexy grin and gave her a kiss, catching the light wandering hand with her own before they made too much of a public display. "Someone is horny."
"We haven't had time to ourselves like this since before Sofia was born," Arizona growled against Callie's neck.
"We'll have plenty of time once we get to Mazatlán," Callie purred back. As much as she loved her wife's attention, the flight attendant was making his rounds and she really didn't want to get told off. That was most certainly not the way to start a fake honeymoon or a real one.
"I love the way you say that," Arizona growled again, this time against Callie's ear with a hot whisper.
"Arizona."
"Calliope."
"Peanuts?" the flight attendant turned to them.
"No thanks," Callie replied with an apologetic smile. "Babe?"
"Ah no, I'm good."
"Alright," he said smoothly and turned back to the next row.
"Seriously, Arizona," Callie turned to face her wife. "Not on the plane."
The baleful glare she received was enough to change her mind, but a second flight attendant came around to get drink orders and saved her from rescinding her words. Arizona settled, eventually, for laying her head on Callie's shoulder and napping for the remainder of their flight. But she was wide awake again once they landed. The car that Callie's money got them drove them past the hospital on Arizona's direction. While Arizona stared at the sterile white building untouched by graffiti and poverty behind the barbed wire fence, Callie's eyes shifted over the streets and dilapidated buildings. She picked out a drug deal on the corner and gang symbols spray painted on concrete walls that would be unnoticed by someone like her wife. She saw what she was looking for. She was right about this place. And if she was as right as she thought, then finding her brother would be easy. Getting him out would be a game of chance.
Derek remembered these hospital halls from his days of owning his practice. He missed them, in the way one misses their childhood at certain points. Navigating them would have been easy even if he hadn't remembered. The directive signs pointed them straight to the big presentation auditorium where most of the other doctors milling about were slowly making their way. Meredith followed behind him, neither of them having seen anyone yet that they knew, but today wasn't about that. The directors of the new hospital and the panel that had assembled to bring it to life would be speaking. Instructions would be given for the following day and those traveling down to Mazatlán would be given the chance to meet the other doctors that they would be working with for the next several weeks. No one knew how long they would be required to stay.
As the leader of the team from Seattle Grace Mercy West, Derek would be speaking the next day. Seattle Grace had donated many of their top surgeons to train the crew down in Mexico on all of the new equipment and procedures that would be put into place. Not many other hospitals had been so willing to donate so much manpower at once but Owen Hunt, resident Chief of Surgery, had known that a team that already knew how to work together as a cohesive unit would bring a lot more success than a patchwork of doctors from multiple hospitals. He himself was making the trip for the first week or so to make sure that everything ran smoothly for his doctors.
Derek and Meredith settled into the audience and noted that the directors of the new hospital were Hispanic and not Caucasian as everyone had previously thought. "Keeping the heritage alive?"
"Why do I feel like Callie should be here instead of us?" Derek whispered to his wife.
"I think it's good. They shouldn't have a bunch of old white guys running a Hispanic hospital," she laughed with him. "But yeah, maybe Callie should have come."
"Couldn't interrupt her faux honeymoon," Derek reminded her.
"Even though she's spent the last month correcting the way everyone says 'Mazatlán'?"
"Oh," Derek looked at her with surprise. "That was pretty good."
A hush descended over the room and the door slammed in the back as the last doctors joined the audience. The lights dimmed and Meredith pulled out the little notebook she always took notes in. Derek settled in for a long day of her anxious habit, clicking the pen open and shut.
"Good morning," a tall Mexican man stood in front of them. His English was good, but they could hear his accent. "Thank you all for coming to New York today. It has been a long journey to get to this part, and for those of you leaving with us tomorrow for Mazatlán it will be a long road back. Our goal is to change lives in Mexico. And maybe we'll touch a few foreign hearts as well."
"He's good," Derek noted to Meredith. She leaned her head on his shoulder and nodded.
"I am Doctor Abuerto-Gonzalez, director of Nueva Vida Hospital in Mazatlán, Mexico. I arrived here three days ago after overseeing the final preparations for your arrival there. We are ready for you."
The audience let out a murmur of laughter.
"We have a lot of work to do. Many of our surgeons are not as highly trained as you all, but they have just as much skill. And they have heart, courage, endurance, things you will need it you are going to survive in Mexico. It is not as nice there as it is here. But enough with the pleasantries, we have business to attend to."
An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of Meredith's stomach. This doctor knew something that he wasn't letting on. It could be that he didn't want to cause a panic, but she got the feeling that Mexico was not as ready for them as he made it out to be. As the morning wore on, the feeling didn't go away, though it lessened considerably. It may have just been her imagination playing on her fears of leaving her children for so long. She had to keep telling herself that they had all signed up for this. They wanted to make a difference, and Owen wanted to put Seattle Grace's name in print as one of the top charitable hospitals in the country. She convinced herself that it was more about making a difference to the hundreds of poor Mexican locals than the publicity though. She would never have agreed to this if it was purely about the publicity.
They let out for lunch and Derek pulled Meredith down a secluded hallway. At her protests he reminded her that he used to work there and it was perfectly fine. His eyes darted from room to room until he found the supply closet he had been looking for.
"Derek!" Meredith chided when he pulled her inside. "We cannot."
He smiled and kissed her, pressing her back against the door and locking it before reaching up to frame her face with his hands, "Why?"
"Because!"
"We do it at work all the time," he said between kisses.
"And we always get caught!"
"I locked the door this time." His lips caressed her neck.
"This is not our hospital!"
"All the more reason," he smirked at her. "I just want to kiss my wife, is that a problem?"
"Well…no."
"Good." Her further protests were silenced by his lips descending over her and his hands wandering up her sides beneath her shirt. This was their thing, sex in closets at work. But growling stomachs eventually broke their wanton mouths apart. Readjusting their clothing, they headed back down the hallway and out into the main lobby where signs directing them to one of several large conference rooms that had been turned into a buffet. They loaded up and found somewhere to sit and eat before being recognized by one of Derek's old colleagues.
Formal introductions were made and Meredith found herself playing the role of wife again. She hated the role, but Derek was world class and she was not, so she allowed him to have his spotlight. She had learned how to play the part well when he was Chief, for that brief interval of time, and it came in handy during instances such as this.
"Whatever happened to that Alzheimer's trial I heard you were working on?" his buddy asked. "That was ground breaking stuff."
"It just didn't work out. We weren't making any progress," Derek covered smoothly. He'd felt Meredith tense at his side. It was water under the bridge as far as they were concerned, but the world seemed contrived to hold it against them forever. "What about you, Rick? Any research projects under way?"
"Not at the moment. This project has taken up most of my time. Myself and a few of my guys are heading down to support the psych department. One of my guys is fluent in Spanish and apparently they need all the help they can get with translators."
"I guess it's a good thing one of our doctors is fluent too," Derek said with a smile at Meredith.
"Really? Who?" Rick asked, sitting down to talk some more."
"Calliope Torres," Meredith answered. "She's our Ortho Attending."
"Really?" Rick drew it out. Meredith gave a sidelong look at Derek, this guy was a creep.
Derek didn't know whether to grimace or laugh. Rick had always had a thing for foreign women.
"Maybe I'll get the chance to talk with her some," he grinned like a Cheshire cat. "She sounds intriguing."
Finally deciding to laugh, Derek commented, "She is. Her wife finds her very much so."
Rick's face dropped. "Oh, well, alright then. It was good talking to you, Derek. Nice to meet you, Meredith."
Meredith broke out into laughter once he had walked away. "Seriously?"
"That's Rick."
"We have to tell Callie when we meet up with her."
"From a safe distance away from Robbins," Derek added. The perky blonde was a jealous thing and more intimidating that most gave her credit for.
When they finally made it back to Derek's mother's house that evening, exhausted didn't begin to describe how they felt. Brain dead was more like it. After lunch they had been split into various teams that corresponded with their roles in the project. Meredith had gone one way, while Derek another, so that they could survey the new equipment and supplies that were to be transported down to the Nueva Vida hospital while they were there. Meredith had never seen so many hundred thousand dollar machines in one room before. Scopes and lasers were gathered together, while three brand new CT machines, all brand new, were pushed against the far wall. New computers and mobile station kits were numbered and organized at the back of the room. They were given equipment lists and told when each group would be arriving in Mexico.
Derek ended up in a supply closet that had been transformed into a drug store. He'd never seen this much medicine amassed in one place before. Boxes and crates were stacked floor to ceiling and wall to wall, with narrow walkways in between. The drugs were to be loaded into vans that night so that they could be shipped out to the airport the next day when the doctors were prepared to leave. There were refrigerators in the back of the room containing more medicine that had to be kept cold.
"How are we shipping that?" he had asked. The answer was temperature controlled shipping crates, industrial standard.
They went upstairs to Nancy's room so that they could change out of their suits and lab coats and into more comfortable clothing after greeting their children. It had been a long and interesting day, but something inside of them was ready to tackle this challenge. First, however, Derek had to tackle the challenge of his sister. When they returned to the living room, Derek gave Amelia a hug.
"You screw up my kids, and there'll be hell to pay," he warned.
"Relax," Amelia said. "Zo and Brandon love their aunt and she loves them. I've been sober for four years, Derek. I'm not going to harm your children. Trust me."
Derek caught the warning glance from his mother. "Okay."
"So how was your day?" Mrs. Shepherd asked Meredith. "Tell us all about it."
"Well," Meredith pulled Zola into her lap. "We sat in long boring meetings and then made sure a lot of equipment was all there, and then had another long boring meeting."
"No lunch?" Zola asked, horrified.
"We had lunch," Derek assured her with a wink to his wife.
"I saw that Derek Shepherd," his mother chided. "Shame on you."
He waved her off, "What about you're day, Zo?"
"Made cookies with grandma!" she beamed. Hopping up from Meredith's lap, she took off running for the kitchen and brought back chocolate chip cookies. She handed both of her parents a cookie and stared them down until they ate them.
"Very good," Meredith smiled at her. "You are the official cookie maker from now on."
As Zola continued to feed her mother cookies, Derek turned to his son. "What about you?"
"Play rucks wiff Amy," he grinned and held up his favorite truck.
As they continued to sit and play with the kids, the television program switched over to the news. A crime alert highlighted the robbery of three pharmacies that day. Concern crept through Meredith again. The robbers hadn't taken money, they'd taken drugs. A lot of drugs. She shrugged it off to coincidence. Some idiot making crystal meth in his basement in New York had nothing to do with their impending trip to Mexico or with her delusional feelings about the director lying to them. It had just been a long day and she was ready for bed. Derek had yet to write his speech for the next day, so after a kiss she left him alone with his computer so that he could get his work done. "I'm off to bed."
"I'll be up soon," he said. "This won't take long."
The night before, while she'd been in the bathroom preparing for bed, Arizona had overheard Callie on the phone. She'd barely cracked the door to listen in and heard her wife deep in a heated conversation. Her natural nosiness prompted her to listen in, but she found that everything coming from the Latina's mouth was in her fluent rapid Spanish. She really needed to learn the language. Knowing enough to get by and being able to understand her wife's speech were two opposite points separated by a vast sea of understanding that she didn't have time for. After Callie had finished the conversation, Arizona had exited the bathroom.
"What was that?" she had asked.
"Ah, no one," Callie lied. "Just someone from the embassy confirming that everything was in order for the team."
"You sounded kind of angry," Arizona persisted.
Callie had just rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it, baby. We have better things to do tonight."
And just like that, Arizona had known that Callie was hiding something from her. But she let her wife get away with it. She knew that she was going to get a lot more out of the night if she didn't start a fight. When she woke, she was still wary of the phone conversation, the night before had all but erased it from her mind. It had been a long time since they had been that free and at liberty to consummate their relationship wildly and passionately. Having a child who was curious about everything was hampering their sex life considerably. They needed this break.
The fact that Callie was gone brought the phone conversation quickly back to her mind. Her eyes flashed open. Her hand blindly felt the bed beside her confirming what she already knew. Callie was gone. But her side of the bed was warm. She hadn't been gone long. Arizona sat up, her piercing eyes searching the room. Callie's shoes were still by her suitcase on the floor. Catching movement, she turned towards the balcony. The glass door was slightly open and the warm breeze swayed the curtain. A smile crossed her face and she let her heart beat calm before stretching.
Callie turned away from her view of the city and let out a low wolf whistle when Arizona stepped out onto the balcony wrapped in the sheet from the bed. "See something you like?"
"Mmhmm," Callie raised her eyebrow appreciatively. "But I think I'd like to see a little more."
Arizona let the fire in Callie's eyes get to her and before she knew it her wife had her back against the railing. Strong hands had slipped under the sheet and were running firmly over her bare skin. "Calliope. Not on the balcony."
"Take a risk," Callie flicked her tongue over the shell of Arizona's ear.
Leaning into her wife's mouth, her body was not matching her protestations. "It's daylight."
"Hardly, it's early," Callie's lips drifted over her wife's pale neck. Her hands slid down over Arizona's hips and over her ass. "Live a little, it's Mexico."
"You had a plan," Arizona whispered, her voice squeaking when Callie hit her pulse point with her tongue.
"I did. To lure you outside," Callie pulled the sheet out of Arizona's hands and draped it over the railing, "to seduce you," she sunk to her knees, "to make you scream."
"Callie," Arizona gasped. She let her eyes roll back in her head as Callie's tongue slid over the insides of her thighs. Her breaths got shorter as the warm tongue centered and dipped between her slick folds. She felt Callie hum and her hands gripped the rail tighter. The woman beneath her knew her so perfectly that it wasn't long before the screams Callie had promised were building in the back of Arizona's throat. Stuffing her fist in her mouth to stifle them, she prayed that she didn't wake anyone up.
After their rendezvous on the balcony, Arizona stepped into the shower. Callie slid into a nondescript track suit and pulled her hair up in a ponytail. She was just pulling her sneakers on when she heard the water shut off. Trying to slip out the door quietly, she booked it to the elevators. She didn't want to lie to Arizona, but she had to get her bearings on the city. The artwork on the buildings would tell her where she needed to go. If Arizona hadn't overheard her conversation last night, a quick jog and bringing back breakfast would be easily understood. But Arizona had overheard the conversation. It was going to have to be one hell of a breakfast that she brought back. Stepping outside of their hotel, she let her eyes wander.
To the left, it seemed like the city grew more clustered; to the right it appeared to thin out and get a little classier. Turning to the right, she took off at a slow jog. Her eyes kept busy, searching out the slight signs unnoticed by most other tourists. Growing up in Miami she had learned how to tell the gang signs subtly added to street murals which gave directions and instructions. There was a particular string of symbols that she was looking for. The group that her brother had belonged to owned a particular signature.
A voice brought her to a screeching halt. "Calliope Iphigenia Torres!"
"Fuck," Callie cursed under her breath. She turned around and saw a very angry blonde jogging up behind her, wet hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.
"What the hell is going on?" Arizona all but screamed. "Weird phone calls in the middle of the night and now you sneaking out on me?"
"Baby, I was just going for a jog," Callie put her hands on Arizona's shoulders to steady her. "And then, I was going to bring you back a great breakfast and finish where we left off this morning."
"You're lying to me through your teeth and I know it," Arizona snapped.
"Babe, we're causing a scene."
"This is our honeymoon!"
Callie smiled apologetically at the people who had gathered to watch. "I know."
"You're lying to me. We've been married for four years and you're lying to me on our honeymoon!" Arizona ranted, throwing her hands up in the air and subsequently shaking Callie's off of her shoulders.
"Arizona, would you like to go get breakfast with me?" Callie asked calmly. She had to get out of this one.
"No," Arizona turned to leave. "If you want to lie to me, then I'm going back to our room."
"Honey," Callie caught her by the arm. "Mi Corazon, please come to breakfast with me."
Arizona flashed her eyes up to Callie so the Latina could see that she was not off the hook yet. "Well, since you asked so nicely."
Rolling her eyes, Callie turned back towards the classier end of town. Her eyes caught a flash of lime green as she did so. "Really? You went back to the store and bought them?"
"Yes," Arizona said arrogantly. "And you are in no position to question my purchases right now, Mrs. Torres. Are you coming?"
With a shake of her head, Callie took off up the slight hill to catch up with her wife. Arizona was a shopaholic of the worst kind, but Callie had to admit that it brought a bit of eccentricity to their life. She also had to admit that Arizona was right and she would be better off keeping her mouth shut. They settled into an easy pace together as they jogged around the city. Arizona pointed out various monuments and sights as Callie pretended to pay attention. Her eyes were constantly shifting and picking out the symbols that would lead her to her brother. They were definitely in the right place. Following the blonde ponytail in front of her, she let Arizona get them hopelessly lost before pulling over to a secluded little store for breakfast. After a light meal that Callie had to order for them due to the language barrier, they continued to walk around the city.
"Callie," Arizona said, "isn't this fascinating?" But she was talking to air. She turned and searched the surrounding area for her wife. She found her deep in conversation with a middle aged Hispanic man.
"¿Sinaloá y Pacifico Sur? Sí. Gracias," Callie thanked the man before Arizona could get close. She looked sheepishly at her wife as the man slipped away into the crowd. "I was asking him about somewhere special to take you."
Arizona leveled her gaze. "Really? Sounded more like you were talking about gangs."
Callie's face blanked and betrayed her shock.
Arizona laughed. "Relax, I'm just messing with you."
"Oh," Callie shook her head. "Right."
"Look at this," Arizona pointed to the street mural she'd been looking at. "It looks like the others, I know, but something is different about it."
Callie stepped closer to scrutinize the mural. She recognized symbols that had been strategically placed within it. What she didn't notice was that the man she had been formerly talking to was watching her and communicating with someone on the phone, or the way he disappeared after she got too close to the mural for too long.
"Callie?" Arizona called.
"Sorry," Callie said, turning back to her wife. "I just recognized it from somewhere." She knew those symbols and she knew where to find her brother.
Arizona had questions in her eyes again and Callie's begged her not to ask them. "You're explaining all of this to me tonight, at this special place that you're taking me to."
"Fine," Callie responded, relieved. "More sightseeing?"
Derek was the last speaker. After his speech they would be heading out to their flights. He stood before the mass of surgeons and cleared his throat.
"Here in the States, we are used to security. Security of self, our families, our property. But security is a mirage. Security could disappear faster than we can blink. We are here today for one reason. We are here today to spread hope to a group of people who have no security. We are entering a place where our security may be threatened or may even cease to exist. The barbed wire and electrical fence seen in the pictures that surrounds this new hospital is a clear enough indication of that. In Mazatlán, safety is a superstition. We will be guests on streets where gang wars break out every day. Gun fire is not uncommon. We cannot avoid the danger that we may face. Hiding in America while people are suffering is also something that we cannot do. These people face these terrors every day with no hope of relief. We have got to offer that hope, a place of sanctuary and peace, and a new life.
"Life is like an hour glass. The very moment you are conceived the sand begins to fall. But unlike most hour glasses, we don't know how much sand is in our glass, or how quickly it will fall. Here, we have a little more assurance as to the longevity of our lives. But where we are going, you never know when the sand will run out."