Letting Go
By RedEmerald (Edited by freakycalzona)
Disclaimer: We own nothing and borrow lots. No, really... lots. Like every other character past or present on Grey's Anatomy which are the sole intellectual property of Shonda Rhimes, Shondaland and ABC.
Ratings: Overall R.
Story Information: This is Alternative Universe fanfiction. None of the characters have the occupations that Shonda Rhimes intended. We simply asked ourselves how career choices can change the directions of the characters lives, but not who they are as a person.
Summary: AU Sometimes it doesn't matter whether or not it's a dream
Editor's Note 1: All the credit to this fic goes to RedEmerald of LE . com I just asked her permission to edit this one for our otp
Editor's Note 2: so guys this will be the last fic of RedEmerald that I'll be editing. Should I continue editing other stories for our otp? Suggestions and comments are much appreciated...
Chapter 2:
"Hey, Ari."
I turned, smiling. "Oh, hey, Cal. Got enough sun?"
Callie smiled. "Of course not. I have three weeks of sun to soak up before we go back to dear old dreary home."
I shook my head. "You're going to look like leather when you're forty - you know that, right?"
"The pool boy under me won't mind," she smirked.
"You'll look terrible in leopard print, though," I told her.
She laughed. It was something of a running joke between us that she looked forward to being a cougar more than she looked forward to any current relationship. It was a good humorous way for her to look past whatever moron had broken her heart this time.
She stepped up to me, squinting. "What's that in your hair?"
"What?" I reached up, frowning - and discovered a little pale pink rose blossom stuck behind my right ear. I stared at it. When the hell had that happened?
"I didn't think you were a flowers-in-the-hair kind of girl."
I snorted and shook my head. "I'm not...I didn't put it there."
"Oh, really now?" Callie raised an eyebrow. "You matched up with someone already? That's quick for you."
"I did not!" I said indignantly.
Callie laughed. "Sure...oh, I believe you." She stepped past me, rolling her eyes, and I stared after her indignantly. "It looks good, though," she shot teasingly over her shoulder as she left.
"I didn't put it there!" I called after her, and looked at the flower for a long moment before tucking it back behind my ear, desperately trying to remember if I'd put it there. It didn't really seem like something I would do.
I wasn't paying much attention when I made my way to the back of the deck where there were a couple of lounge chairs set up in partial shade from the tallest part of the ship. I tugged one of the lounge chairs over into the shade - I don't tan, I burn - and sprawled out comfortably on my stomach, in a position where I could stare out at the ocean behind the ship as we cruised along, enjoying the sea breeze and the sound of the waves. There was a faint rumbling from the ship's motor, but I didn't mind it - I like a little cover noise when I sleep.
There's something about sleeping on a boat when you're not used to it - your dreams get really bizarre. I remember only pieces of my dreams, but they all had a common theme - at some point in all of them, someone was stroking my hair. That didn't seem normal.
When I woke, the sun was a bit lower in the sky, but there were two other lounge chairs pulled up around me. Teddy was asleep on one, with Cristina on the other. I remembered the dreams, and the sensation of having my hair stroked, along with the flower in my hair, and I wondered.
***
That night, I discovered something else about sleeping on boats - they usually don't have air-conditioning. It gets hot in the Caribbean - which is fine during the day - but you'd think that once the sun went down, it would get cooler. Maybe it does in the resort spots - probably why they put the resorts there, I suppose - but where we were, it didn't get cool. It stayed hot. If I didn't know better, I would have said it got hotter. There was some kind of fan system that circulated air through the boat so it wasn't too stuffy, but it was still very warm inside. I began the night climbing onto the bed in my t-shirt and shorts - but it didn't take long for me to realize that I was going to broil that way. So I stripped off the t-shirt and the shorts.
Now, understand me, I'm not much a girl for nudity - I'm actually pretty shy about it - and I don't usually sleep in so little even when I'm sleeping with someone, but I just couldn't stand the suffocating clothes. In just my panties and a thin sheet over me, I tossed and turned in the heat, trying to fall asleep.
This time...my dreams were not cooling me off. Not so much weird as...unrelenting. I writhed through dream after dream of bare skin, hot slick flesh, warm lips. I heard moans in my ear...soft, slow moans, gasping, quick moans, and those deep moans of satisfaction that follow a really incredible orgasm. My dream lovers were the faceless type - I wasn't dreaming about anyone in particular - but I couldn't shake them. I woke up once, and probably would have done something about my arousal, but I felt unaccountably shy about doing that in a strange place. You know that feeling, right?
I fell back asleep, and the dreams continued, one after another. Hot, bare bodies pushed against mine, warm lips covered me, and hands explored my body in ways I could never remember feeling in real life. Somewhere in the middle, though, the dreams stopped being tortured. More of the moans in the dream became mine. I arched against caressing fingers, met soft, eager lips with my own, and ran my fingers through soft hair. I felt strong hands on my back, lifting me, and soft hands on my legs, opening me. I felt that delicious, spasmodic thrusting of a truly eager lover, and the warm, wondering feeling of a girl's lips during a first night together.
Finally, in my dream, I did something I don't think I'd ever done in a dream before. I came. Hard. I arched against those lips, bucked my hips frantically against that wonderful, magical touch, and squealed through an orgasm that left me breathless, trembling - and snapped me awake.
I almost sat up, but my body was too deliciously heavy to move. I felt sated and drowsy the way only truly good sex can make you feel. I didn't have to check to know that my panties were soaked, but I did know that the sheet was almost completely off my body - I'd writhed around so much in my sleep that the sheet was twisted around one leg, leaving the rest of me bare. I managed to move just enough to pull the sheet back over myself, and moaned softly as I lay back. The room was so dark - without the internal lights on, and no external lights to intrude, the cabin was pitch black. The only sound was my lightly panting breath.
I really needed to find someone who could make me feel like that again. If only they really existed.