Chapter 6
Title: Reese's Peanut Butter Cups
Pairing: Callie/Arizona… with a light side of some others.
Rating: T - M
Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy or any of the characters in it. All rights belong to ABC, the producers of Grey's Anatomy and Shonda Rhimes. I do not own any rights to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
Made for entertainment purposes only.
A/N: Hey, guys… I won't say much. Just that I'm extremely sorry for how long it took to update this time. I really hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews and I hope you continue with all the feedback.
Arizona's POV
Surgeons – we are arrogant, sanctimonious, conceited geniuses.
We defy gravity. We fight the inevitable. We rule the O.R.
Blood, guts and disease – they are our bitches.
We are frickin' awesome.
The sun revolves on our whim; we close our eyes and its night, we open them - and its day.
We are – Gods.
That is how I feel today – like a God.
I walked on water; I parted the Red Sea…
Meaning…
I performed a myriad of back-to-back surgeries on the tiniest humans, every one of them as successful as the last. A huge car pile-up on Route 4 resulted in a triple MVA with two entire school buses rolling over.
This, of course, was bad.
Because it meant more number of hurt, injured innocent children than I would like to acknowledge.
But, our team – the Seattle Grace Mercy West Pediatric Surgery Department kicked Death's ass today.
We did.
Of course, it was all hands on deck – but I still feel like a God.
Something about standing in that O.R. holding that sharp blade, draped in sterilized blue, wrapped in latex – it is a feeling you can only ever feel.
The power, the passion, the oath you took ages ago – it rings madness in your head.
The kids lived – because of us.
Because we are - in fact - arrogant, sanctimonious, conceited geniuses.
I honestly have no flipping clue as to when I reported in to work today.
The concentrated oxygen, that surgery smell… it puts you in a daze – an adrenaline rush of sorts. Where you cut and close like you were meant to be doing it your whole life, where sleep, hunger and air is a mere back-of-the-head flitting thought.
It's a dream-like state.
Of course, when you put down that scalpel, when you scrub out, when you step amongst the Earthly people – that rush begins to evaporate… and just like that… you aren't God anymore.
You are just a proud, happy human being.
As I exit the Waiting room, after giving worried to death parents the news they've been violently praying for, my rush begins to wear off…
Rounding the Peds. corridor, the burn in my flexing thigh muscles becomes apparent, the exhaustion washing over me once again – exhaustion which is only burgeoned by the sleep deprivation.
The last time I sat down was last night – midnight – whatever… can't even remember.
My legs begin to feel like dead weight, my eyelids heavy with fatigue; head devoid of any pertinent thought other than mentally running through my post op notes.
It felt like long, painful miles I had to trudge through the sand to reach my destination – the Nurses' Station – I have to sign off on a huge tower of pending charts… the dark side of multiple traumas.
An animatedly heavy exhalation escapes my lips as I pick up half the heap of unwelcome clipboards. I never really cared much for administrational crap…
The charts feel heavier than they should.
With that thought, I decide to take the weighty stack of clipboards back to the Attendings' Lounge to finish off, dragging my Heely-clad feet in the appropriate direction.
I am seriously drained.
But I love this drain – it's the good kind of drain.
Nonetheless, I need to take a break, and I need to eat something… wouldn't want another embarrassing hypoglycemic episode in front of – oh my gosh…
My gait involuntarily slows down.
Its Callie's first day.
That had completely slipped my mind – until now… wonderful.
I can feel my stomach clench as my head falls back into the one thought I really didn't want to think about.
I can't really identify what I feel right now.
Am I happy, sad… indifferent?
Nope, none of the above.
The thing is, before last night, Callie was just a hot – correction: really, really hot – woman I was drooling over like a patient loose from the psych ward. Regardless, that was it.
I liked her disposition, of course, she is confident, charming, intelligent, vibrant and what have you… she's got a brain to match that delicious exterior - and so I was ready, excited even, to be her friend; but I'd be lying if the thought of a one night drunken stand with the hot straight woman hadn't run through my mind once or twice. I planned to flirt, just a little, and if she was open minded and fluid enough… we could have had a little bit of fun.
Then, I remembered that she was married… with a child… now that complicates things. I may be a lot of things but I am not a cheater, I do not cheat on or help anyone cheat.
So, we are back to being friends, and I was fine with having only that part of her.
But then… last night happened.
She was drunk, sad and alone – that combination in anyone is good enough to make me run for the hills. And if that weren't enough, she cried… a lot.
Crying makes me uncomfortable.
It's fine with kids and their parents even, because they're worried; it's my job to deal with crying parents – I'm really good at it too. But, that's different, it's in a neutral practiced setting, you are a medical professional speaking to your sick patient and their anxious support system.
But crying adults in my personal life…? It just makes me feel… icky. Like when you see your dad cry; it seems unnatural, almost frightening… like you're afraid to be exposed to so many emotions.
Even when my brother died, my father barely shed a tear – in public at least - because we don't do that.
Which is what brings me back to the point, Callie started to cry and… I have never felt something like that…
All I wanted to do was hold her because seeing her cry, so alone and vulnerable? It was physically painful to watch.
I wasn't uncomfortable or awkward; I didn't want to run… I just wanted to hug her and make her feel okay… and so I did, I held her until she needed me to hold her.
But that look in her eyes? That sad, hurt loneliness… I can't forget it.
Albeit the inebriated banter and laughter afterwards, that look didn't escape me.
It's so excruciatingly silly, I don't know the woman, I know nothing past of what an acquaintance would… but I know I never want to see her like that again.
And that thought scares the living daylights out of me.
So, I guess what I'm saying is… I don't know when it happened… whether it was when I felt her body against mine, or when she wistfully smiled in the cab… or when she asked me not to leave – but I like her.
I like her more than a friend should.
Now, she works here, so I have to see her every day from today.
"ZONA!"
The voice makes me recoil just as I'm about to pull the doorknob of the Attending's Lounge.
I make a 180° turn and… dammit.
"Sam…" I smile sheepishly trying to steady the wobbling charts, "…wha –"
"Shut up!" she interrupts, eyes bulging, nostrils flared, "You know, you may be a doctor and I may be "just" –" she says in a ridiculing tone with air-quotes, "- a nurse but you did not have any right to do that!"
What the hell…
I throw a quick glance around to see if anyone's listening as I hesitantly step closer to the huffing nurse,
"Look Sam… I don't know what –"
"I just sat there Zona'! You said you were gettin' the drinks and then never came back!" her anger mixing with some humiliation at my vexed expression.
I knit my eyebrows to try and get the faintest grasp over what in hell this woman was talking about, and then… it hits me – crap -
"Oh, oh m – my god Sam I'm so sorry –" I shake my head in disbelief, "- I was distracted and… and I –"
"No! YOU approached me! YOU approached me and then started sucking face with that Ortho whore!?" Her hands fisted and upper body leaning toward me.
"Hey wow – she's not and – and I – I wasn't -" I whisper with another cursory glance,"- sucking face with her!" I struggle to keep my voice down, a clear contrast to my friend here.
A few questioning glances from passersby later, she takes a step forward, then another one, closing the gap between us, I can almost feel her hot irregular breath on my face, I'd be lying if I said she wasn't a little intimidating.
She drastically lowers her voice to a bitter slow paced whisper zoning in on my face,
"You may think every woman out their wants your hands in her pussy Arizona… but count me out – Fuck. You. Doctor. Robbins." Ever the articulate Sam…
With that, she whirls around on her heel and stomps away the way she came – I just stand there. I'm way, way too tired to process any of that right now.
But I know one thing; I'm definitely stripped of my Godly status.
I don't realize I'm pressed against the door of the Attendings' Lounge until the door knob jabs me in the small of my back,
"OW! What the -" I yelp, instinctively hopping away, charts toppling all over the floor; I shoot an accusatory glare at the culprit.
I open my mouth, ready to give the person who assaulted me with the door a piece of my mind, but I feel my stomach drop when the one person more intimidating that the Chief of Surgery walks out with an equally critical glare zoning in on me.
"Doc – Doctor Bailey…" I breathe out; I can feel my mouth go dry when I realize she probably heard the most vulgar parts of my rather crass conversation with Nurse Sam.
I like having women in my bed – heck' I love it - but I'm not a huge fan of sharing my experiences with others – especially not with brash, nerve-racking General Surgeons…
I'm positive I look like a deer caught in the headlights.
She just holds the door wide open, clearly not ready to be the first one to drop her stare.
I swallow sheepishly, words begin to fly out of my mouth before I know it, "Do – Doctor Bailey, that –the –that, she – we –"I lick my lips followed by an awkward laugh, get a hold of yourself Arizona, "- We only ha – slept toge –" What are you saying!?
A harsh show of her hand, holding it up as if to halt a speeding truck stops me dead in my tracks,
"Doctor Robbins –" she pronounces deliberately, giving me a look only the Nazi can pull off, "- I do not have the slightest bit of interest in hearing about –" she drops her hand, "-that… "enunciating the 't', " - I already know much more than I - ever - wanted to about that horny posse of teenagers I got for interns –" Her intense stare not softening in the slightest, "Just – don't block the door."
And just like that, she disappears down the hallway, muttering something about "Doctors…" and "My ass…" under her breath.
That did not just happen…
I can feel my face scald with mortification.
Damn, that woman can make Mary Poppins cry…
It takes me a second to snap out of the progressively unfortunate events of the last three minutes before I notice the randomly arranged array of Post-Op charts scattered across the white hospital marble.
Crap, I'm positive Sam will make sure half the hospital learns about this…"sucking face with Ortho whore" pchh… I wish…
With that thought, I squat down, aggravating the lactic acid running through my sore muscles as I start collecting the dispersed clipboards.
I really, really don't want to fall into the Slutty Attendings' Club… God knows this hospital isn't short of those – sometimes I wonder how they manage to find time to practice medicine around here between the skulking across On-Call rooms and getting Syphilis shots – every corner you turn, there's someone or the other being slammed up against the wall…
I try to sheepishly avoid a few questioning glares from onlookers as I pant, trying to juggle all the charts in my arms, bending from the waist forward in a duck-walk position.
Ew… God Forbid I ever get associated with the likes of… Mark Sloan… Uhgg I mean I get more women that he ever will, but I opt to leave it at home – or in a bathroom stall – not here at work!
"Umm… Need some help?"
I can feel a small breath catch somewhere in my throat.
I don't think she noticed, but my entire body subconsciously halted into submission for a heartbeat.
Then, out of nowhere I'm suddenly very aware of my not so graceful position with one arm outstretched across the floor reaching for a far-away chart, consequently pushing my navy scrub pants-clad butt halfway up in the air – who are we kidding I'm in a very strange semi-doggy paddle position – and she is right behind me… fabulous.
Another bout of the barely dissipated heat spreads across my cheeks in full force as the charts retrieved in my arms come clanging back down to the floor – my head spins around in one swift motion to look up to the woman in question,
"Calliope…" I breathe out; now, despite the highly disconcerting position I am in, despite the notes scattered across the floor, despite my sheer fear of getting anymore further swooned by one Calliope Torres – I can't help my pupils quickly rake in the image before me.
That illegal pair of tanned legs draped in a dark grey wool blend Houndstooth pencil dress tapering off just below the knee gives me an illusory view of those shapely calves – calves further accentuated by open toed black-suede stilettoes, the color highlighting the Aperitif Red painted across her toes peeking out the front of her heels… A color, I'm afraid, awfully similar to the one splattered across my face when my eyes trail up the crocheted fabric of the dress tightening along those glorious hips in a way unimaginable to man… A color which is only deepened when I realized I was gawking…and…that my own ass, in fact, was still hanging halfway up in the air.
Before I can snap my eyes shut and hop up to a less awkward position, she quickly rounds me and crouches down on her knees, bending down to a position mimicking mine.
Not helping.
The dark wool cradling those soft, warm breasts cutting into a shallow V-neckline teases me with the most tormenting glimpse of that honey tinted cleavage pressing against the cotton as she bends her torso forward to help gather some papers.
I have to physically remind myself to swallow the extra fluid collected in my mouth.
"Thank you…" I exhale sheepishly, for some reason, really fascinated by the floor below me as I begin to gather the fallen charts at a much faster-than-required pace.
"So… how did this happen?" she asks with a casual snicker.
Stop bending woman…
"I – ya' know… I just –" I laugh, still avoiding the woman squatting (well as best she can in that dress) before me, " – I – they slipped."
"O-kay…" she knits her manicured eyebrows, "You okay? Arizona?"
"Umm yeah – I'm great!" I shoot a quick glance and an animatedly wide smile at her, "Why wouldn't I be?" with some extra perk this time.
"Arizona…" her tone morphing into a slightly apprehensive one.
"Hmm?" I raise my head at sloth pace.
"Just – "she swallows, "Last night… I don't know what to say…" her eyes flicker reflectively across the corridor as she trails off.
Dammit… there's that look again…
"Hey… Hey Calliope –" now I look into her eyes, my voice softening, "- it's okay… really…"
"Yeah…?" she hesitantly meets my gaze.
"Yeah…" I say with a soft smile.
"So, I didn't completely scare you off?" she says self-consciously with an apologetic smile.
"Nope… not completely" I show my dimples impishly.
"Gee thanks…" she says with mock-offense and the beginning of a chuckle as we both get up having cleared the floor of any stray charts.
"You… Calliope Torres, are a very entertaining drunk person" I say matter-of-factly as we walk into the Attendings' Lounge.
"Oh God…" she scoffs embarrassedly, "Don't even remind me! This pounding headache is good enough of a memory" she groans, placing the charts down on a table.
I just chuckle in response,
"You are hung over right now?"
"Uhh – yeah, hung over is an understatement to what I am right now…" we both sink into two of the chairs bordering the wooden desk, "… I'm practically functioning on a double shot of espresso since that damn bus crash woke me up at 5 A.M. in the morning" she signals to the white coffee cup in her hand.
"Well, I wouldn't know it, you look amazing" Ooops, that wasn't supposed to come out, my eyes widen, "F – for a drun – a hung over person, you look amazing…" Atta' Girl… nice save.
"Mmm…" she takes another long drag of the steaming liquid, "…well I don't feel it" seemingly oblivious to my little slip-up, "So much for my first day… I pissed off like five nurses already and made two interns cry… and a ruptured superficial scalp lac. –" she scorns, "- sprayed blood all over my lab coat – first day…"
I chortle; picking a chart from the top of my pile as Callie begins to jot down some stuff in a leather bonded Agenda Planner.
"Hey, my first day – " I throw a sideways glance at her, "- showed up late, had 5 back-to-back surgeries on tiny, tiny, tiny humans which resulted in me sobbing in the On-Call room after –" I can see her raise her eyebrows amusedly through her file, "The Chief of Surgery then caught me having sex with an intern in the Janitor's Closet –" this catches her attention as her head snaps up to face me, "Yup… and that was after I crashed into him skating down the catwalk on my Wheelies – so, you –?" I look up at her shocked expression, "- My friend… are one lucky person."
She just stares at me bemusedly, then blinks,
"Wh - Are you serious?" she asks wide-eyed, with the innocence of a child learning the truth about Santa Claus.
I face her and throw my hugest dimpled smile,
"Nope! My first day was awesome – I was awesome – interns, nurses, patients, residents – everyone loved me!"
I can see her astonishment morph into animated insult,
"Evil…" she narrows her eyes with mock-shock.
"But… made you look!" I burst into a proud chortle.
"Ha- Ha-" she deadpans, "Very funny… Anyways –" she tries to ignore the proud leer on my face as she looks back in her book, "Hit me…"
I sober, "Excuse me?"
"Last night… what did I say?" she raises her eyebrows as if it were the most obvious thing to say… Oh silly me…
"Umm… nothing I don't – nothing really…" I say off-handedly, getting back to my charts.
"Arizona –" she glares at me, "I talk – when I'm drunk – I talk… a lot. So, what did I say?" she repeats.
I slowly look up at her and lick my lips, "Well… you –"
"Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait…!" she alarmingly interrupts me.
Startled widened blue eyes are my response.
"Is it extremely embarrassing? Like – like 'I saw you pretend to be Wonder Woman in the bathroom mirror' embarrassing?" she cringes.
I just shoot her a 'Seriously?' glance.
Great, because that's what I need – an image of Callie in a Wonder Woman costume… perfect.
"What…? It was a phase…" she says sheepishly, ducking her head inducing a stifled giggle from me, "Shut up! Just – was it embarrassing or –"
"You said I look like Cinderella…" I say casually with a shoulder shrug.
I can see her freeze for a second, "Wh – what?" her voice falls deeper.
"Cinderella, you know? Pumpkin, sparkly ball-gown, evil step-mother, glass shoe… fairy godmo-"
"Yeah, yeah I know who Cinderella is Arizona…" she says a little irritably as she breaks eye-contact and ducks her head back down to what she was writing.
Is she embarrassed?
"Actually…" I say, breaking the out-of-place silence, "… you said your daughter thinks I look like Cinderella…" another shrug of my shoulder as I sign a chart.
If I looked up I would have seen her release a small relieved breath through her mouth as she looks back up at me,
"Oh! Yeah… Allegra, sh – she does and she's like obsessed with –"
"You said I was hotter than her" I look up at her from my chart with a puckish smile.
Again, she's caught off-guard; she knits her eyebrows, "Th – than…? Tha –"
"Than Cinderella…" I complete nonchalantly, struggling to still the bubbling laughter in the back of my throat.
She just looks at me with a blend of surprise and fretfulness, eyes wide, for a second, I think she's going to bolt or something, but instead,
"Well…" she ponders, "- you are" she says casually, the flash of uncertainty having been replaced by her usual air of confidence.
Now it's my turn to be startled… Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, a NOT drunk Calliope Torres thinks I'm hotter than Cinderella!
I just shift uncomfortably in my seat trying to smother the self-indulgent, impressionable teenager in my head.
We fall into another not-very-comfortable silence, the Attendings' Lounge surprisingly empty other than a couple of Residents buried in scut for their Attendings… Damn – I should make Karev do this crap…
"So you guys wear scrubs all day here?" she asks.
"Umm… yeah –" I knit my eyebrows, "- I mean, obviously, right?"
She just raises her eyebrows and offers a breathy chuckle indicating to her outfit.
Although it's probably burned into my head now, I take this chance to trail over the slate-colored long-sleeved office dress clinging onto her body… You know what they say, when opportunity knocks on your door… make lemonade…
"Oh yeah… why are you wearing that?" realization dawns on me. Not that I mind…
"Well, back in Miami – at Jackson Memorial – we had a policy, change out of scrubs into your civil clothes as soon as you scrub out… something about seeming more professional –"she scoffs, "- as if when someone you love is lying on that table, being cut into with a knife – you care about the surgeon's fashion statement…" she trails off with a deriding sideways shake of her head.
"Mmm…" I smile, "Well, you can wear scrubs here – more efficient and definitely more comfortable…"
"Yeah…" she smiles with an almost pensive eyebrow raise, "… starting tomorrow"
After a few moments of rather contented silence,
"Arizona…" she puts down the silver pen in her hand, as she looks up at me thoughtfully.
"Yeah?"
"Umm…" she swallows, those evocative eyes now melting into mine, I can't shift my gaze even if I tried, "…thank you, for last night… I – I have to thank you bec – because –" she clears her throat, "- it – I -it was just a bad day…" she ends on a hoarse, shaky note.
I force a smile, almost haunted by the amount of emotions swirling in the depth of her eyes, "Hey… we all have bad days…" there's that feeling, I want to hug her again, What the hell is the matter with me?! "You have nothing to apologize for Callie…"
She smiles this absorbed, rich smile… and I can't help but wonder – What the hell happened to this usually vivacious, bright, gorgeous woman to make her feel like this?
My eyes involuntarily make another journey over those beautiful, dusky features; my fingers want to trail across that smooth tan skin, they want to feel those full claret lips, they want to run through that jet-black hair…
I suddenly want to tuck that lock of stray hair behind her ear, but her blaring pager snaps me back into reality.
"Aw… crap" she growls, already halfway across the room, "Post-op complications, I'll see you around?" she turns around to look at me just as she's about to pull the door handle, an expecting look on her face.
"Lunch" I confirm with a smile.
Returning my beam, she disappears; oblivious to my erratic heartbeat…
What am I? Happy, sad… indifferent?
I'm scared…
When you're a doctor, the words 'Lunch, dinner, breakfast, good night, good morning' amongst others, have no meaning what-so-ever, because as a doctor… you get hungry – you eat, sleepy – you sleep… when you find the time to pee or take a shower – that's when you do it, it's not like the non-medical world. There is no set-in-stone time – but in spite of all of that… the hospital cafeteria follows the outside world to the T.
They are always fully stocked with food, mind you, that's not what I'm talking about. But what I mean is, the hospital cafeteria is the most crowded during lunch and dinner – I don't know why or how – but it is… which is why we doctors end up saying those words anyways.
Right now, it's lunch time at Seattle Grace Mercy West.
The cafeteria is filled with an obscene amount of people – off of Google Earth, it'd probably look like a small ocean what with the various shades of blue bustling around in a large room, discounting the few odd civilians here and there.
It is loud and noisy, almost like a bird sanctuary – competitive, scalpel hungry, gossipy birds that sleep around a lot and then discuss it over food. I even remember hearing something about Christina Yang and her friends comparing a burger and fry to some sort of a sexual position… if we weren't so damn good… it'd be hard to believe we are doctors.
But we are, in fact, doctors and it is lunch time… meaning Teddy had to wrestle for a round table which we reserved for ourselves like a bunch of snobby 'cool' kids in high school.
"I don't know Arizona… there's just – he's going through some stuff and Christina doesn't get it – but I do… it's confusing and tiring –" Teddy takes a weary bite out of her soggy sandwich, "- I –let's change the subject." She winces at the texture of the food in her mouth.
"Mmk… "I say through the straw, slurping my soda noisily, "… I hate saying this Teddy – but the sandwich? I told you so…" I sneer smugly.
She swallows her morsel like she's swallowing glass and glares at me, "Shut up – you love saying it you smartass..." she takes a long gulp out of her water bottle washing her mouth out.
I just offer a bigger leer in response as I try to stab a limp leaf claiming to be lettuce with a plastic fork.
We slip into easy conversation, Teddy and I have been friends for about five to six years, since she moved here from Iraq. I don't know whether it is the Army/Navy background or what… but Teddy and I clicked, instantly, and we have been friends ever since.
"I – I mean I don't know what to think Teddy! She is just so SO extremely pretty and I can't stop thinking about it! Like she's talking and I just see that beautiful mouth move –"
"Heyyyyyyyyyyyy Dr. Torres!" Teddy animatedly interrupts me with eyes as wide as a meth-junkie and a matching beam… subtle as a gun that Theodora…
Nonetheless, I feel butterflies flutter somewhere inside me, nerves or excitement… I can't identify them yet.
"Hey Calliope!" I smile as she makes her way to our table and pulls a chair.
"Arizona, hey…" she says tiredly sinking into a chair beside Teddy opposite from me, but offers that unreal smile, you know, the one that makes you stop and stare like an idiot?
"HEY!" Teddy seems to be having trouble toning it down, and I have to nudge her with my foot to make her cut it out, she just glares at me with the same baked expression, "So… how's your first day going?"
Callie offers a fatigued chuckle, "God… I don't even know where to start –" she looks at me with a knowing smile and I can't help but return it, as Callie continues, Teddy just looks at me and mouths 'CALLIOPE!?' amusedly.
Callie, undeterred, proceeds"- AND I think I got the dumbest scrub nurse ever! I mean, she was like a toddler. She couldn't even tell a Babcock from an Anastomosis, so when I yell at her sh –" Callie stops abruptly when she sees Teddy choke down another bite of her sandwich, "Ooooh… yeah –" she cringes, "- sandwich? Bad idea…"
"Mmmm… so I hear –" Teddy shoots another questioning smile at me.
"Uhgg… was it Natalie? The scrub nurse?" I ask, ignoring Teddy.
Callie seems to deliberate for a moment knitting her eyebrows as she slurps her iced-tea, "Umm… no, I think it was Casey or Ca- Cas –"
"Mmm… Cassandra – "Teddy makes a face, "- she's awful. Made me search for a gel pad for 17 minutes in a patient's chest cavity before realizing it was still attached to her clamp"
"Yeah… that's the one" Callie deadpans.
"How's your headache?" I ask over the rim of my paper cup.
"Better…" she smiles awkwardly, "Actually no, it isn't –"she says through a chuckle.
"Yeah well… you could lie down or something… there's On-Call rooms wh–"
"But I'd knock, a LOT before going in"
All of us turn to face the redheaded gynecologist, who interrupted me walking toward us with a tray of salad and a very disturbed expression,
"Walked in on April Kepner, "The Virgin" " She says with air quotes and an eyebrow raise, "With Jackson Avery…" she pulls up a chair and slinks in next to Callie, "Virgin Puh-leez…"
Callie just politely clears her throat.
"Oh! Oh, oh my gosh! Hey! Sorry… I was traumatized for a second –" she turns toward Callie and offers a hand, "I'm Addison Montgomery, Neo-natal surgery"
Callie smiles that smile as she takes her hand, "Callie Torres, Ortho"
"Ahh' so you're the famous hot new Attending…" Addison says with too much intrigue for a straight woman, studying the brunette. Damn… wish I could say it that easily…
Teddy shoots me a mocking glare.
Callie just smiles a sheepish one, "That would be me, yes… wait, Addison Montgomery?" she knits her eyebrows in concentration as she bites her lip, "Oh my God! You wrote the lead paper on Mckusick-Kaufman Syndrome!? I knew your name sounded familiar!"
"Yeah!" Addison chuckles, "That would be me… "
We effortlessly slip into light conversation about our favorite O.R. nurses and who the bitchiest one is, so on and so forth, and before we know it – Owen Hunt and Miranda Bailey have joined in as well.
After quick introductions, we begin to scrutinize the neighboring table, consisting of Meredith Grey, Christina Yang, Lexie Grey, Alex Karev (my pediatric prodigy) huddling together like a tight-knit group of college kids; Owen of course, defending the famous Cardiothoracic Surgeon-in-the-making.
Owen and Teddy seem engaged in some awkward staring thing; Bailey and the hot redhead are discussing the budget issues with Callie.
Callie and I don't directly talk much discounting a few comments made to the general public on the table, but she seems to be taking it all in like the new kid should.
Everyone seems to love her, Callie has this thing, like a charm or vivacity or something… where you look at her when she enters the room; even if it's a mere second glance, but you have to look twice. She can make someone completely engrossed in what she's saying simply by how she laughs or smiles, it's an intoxicating blend of intelligence and allure… and if that that doesn't work, those eyes are a sure shot.
Before Teddy could make another crack about how Jackson Avery, the pretty, dumb pseudo-blonde knocked over another sutures tray in her O.R.
"I'm a God, I swear I am… you wouldn't even know that kid had a cleft pallet, it's gone – no scars, nothing…" he chews through that ridiculously shiny red apple and straddles a chair next to me.
Everybody momentarily sobers but then slips back into what they were doing with just a few scoffs and snickers. Addison shakes her head disappointedly. I just laugh at him.
"Well hello there Dr. Torres…" oh noo… "I believe we've met before, Mark Sloan, Plastics?" Mark extends his strapping arm across the table, offering it like Casanova to a piece of meat.
Callie takes the offending hand, "How can I forget?" she smiles a burnished smile with a glint in her eyes and glances toward me, then retracts her hand. What the fuck? Does she like that!?
Mark looks delighted, "Can I just say? "He leans toward her with a typical Mark smirk, "I can't tell you how happy I am to be working with you" he winks with his gravelly perv-ey voice. Oh Mark…
Callie just raises her eyebrows curiously and chortles in return, "Oh-kay…"
"So, I hear, you and Arizona here –"he thrusts his arm around me and pulls me closer, "- know each other"
"Mark…" I say through gritted teeth and a huge uncomfortable smile.
Callie smiles and looks at me, "Well briefly - we did – but now we do…" I look into her eyes for the first time at lunch and I see something… I don't know what – but I do…
"Hey, you all wanna' go to Joe's for drinks tonight?" Addison announces at the table.
There is a disoriented chorus of yes's and headshakes.
"We could just tell Shepherd later, he's in surgery I think…" Owen adds.
"Whoopee… that means, Christina Yang and the 12 year old Grey get to join in as well…" Addison rolls her eyes. Now, I know she's over the whole Derek thing – I have a feeling she just doesn't like Meredith Grey in general…
"How about you Calliope?" I unsuccessfully try to squirm my way out of Mark's huge man arms, "You're coming too right?" I hope that didn't sound too eager.
I can feel Mark about to say something at her full name so I just stomp on his foot as precaution.
Callie just laughs a breathy awkward laugh as she quickly glances toward everyone at the table, everyone… but me. What the heck?
"Umm… I don –"she starts.
"No! You're coming! C'mon… you're the new girl you have to meet everyone!" Addison interrupts.
Callie laughs softly, she swallows, "Okay… bu – but you know? Just for a little bit… since –"
"Oh just say yes Callie…" I smile.
She looks at me and smiles a smile I can tell doesn't reach her eyes, "Yes… okay"
A shrieking beeping makes me jump up in my seat.
"Dammit…" I whisper under my breath as I pull the offending object off my waistband.
"Hey, that's me too –"Mark says, mimicking my action.
"Crap, Mark… it's… post-op from the accident…" I say, as we simultaneously get up and shoot quick acknowledging glances to our friends at the table.
I bite my tongue to stop from saying bye to Callie. I want to, but wouldn't it seem weird? Like… why would I say it only to her?
"Wipe off that drool Robbins…" Mark leans close enough to my ear for me to feel his breath on my cartilage as we begin walking from the table.
"What?" I shoot a confused glare at him.
"You know 'what' Blondie… the hot Ortho! Why didn't you tell me you knew her? She is WOWW! I told you, remember?" he says excitedly.
I gasp at the accusation and look around to see if anyone heard as we walk down the bustling cafeteria "I – we –sh – that wasn't – I didn't drool!" I slip into defense mode.
"Hey… I'm all for it. If you two got it on –"He smirks imaginatively, "- you'd put Madonna and Brittany to shame…"
I send him a warning glare as I narrow my eyes, "Suck it Mark…"
"No – I say, suck that!" He laughs and – "AHH!"
I stop dead in my tracks, I don't know what that noise was and I don't know why I gasped and I definitely don't know why the people around us went silent… until I feel the sting – on my ass – of a hand – on my ass.
The crowd just fires a few curious glances and awkward snickers our way but then go back about their own business.
I can positively feel my entire face about to combust with a sick mixture of mortification and pure ire – so I do what I know best – I smile the widest smile known to human-kind.
"Mark…" I say through a set jaw, "Get. Your. Paws. Off. My. Ass."
"What?" as oblivious as a husband on Valentine's Day, "Anyways, so, what's the deal with the Ortho? If you don't want her… I'm callin' dibs!"
It is probably a second, but it felt like the most embarrassing aeon of my life before we start walking again. I barely hear him; I cannot believe he just did that in front of an entire packed lunch-room.
"Shut up - Mark…" I enunciate in a deliberate tone trying to still my humiliation.
"Okay… but no Givsies Backsies Blondie…" he leans close.
Mark Sloan just spanked me in front of the most beautiful, amazing woman I have ever met. Marvelous.
Maybe she didn't see. Yeah, yeah, it's pretty crowded in here… sh- she probably didn't see.
I decide to really subtly turn around.
A few people are still staring at us and laughing, the others have already forgotten.
Honestly, I think they are used to it… Seattle Grace Mercy West maybe a lot of things – but appropriate is not one of them…
On top of that, everybody knows Mark Sloan and as ashamed as I am to say this, yes, he has done it before – so it comes as a shock to nobody.
Nobody except apparently Callie, because I can see her, through the mob of people hovering over the cafeteria, at our table, she's just staring at us in shock… well shock or what… I can't exactly tell. I can see her wide eyes and set jaw, not quite the same shock as the other people here, but I'm assuming its shock nonetheless. I quickly glance at her, and if I didn't know any better I'd swear she just dropped her gaze as soon as she saw me.
I really, really want to say bye to her…
"C'mon Robbins! Hurry the hell up!" he grabs my arm and drags me along when our pagers start signaling again.
There are certain joys in life.
Smelling the roses, listening to the musical chirping of the birds, feeling the warm sun… and all that paraphernalia.
All that pales in comparison to getting off of your legs and stretching out in a dark, quiet room – lying down.
I'm experiencing that joy right now, may it be in the hospital sex bed, in the hospital sex room – the joy is still frickin' joyous.
I can feel my muscles melt into the lumpy mattress underneath me, the tension in my neck quickly dissipating; sleep begins to caress the corners of my mind before I know it.
I am so tired; I really don't want to go to Joe's tonight. I just want to go home, take a shower and hibernate in my soft, comfy bed. I don't really know what it is, but there's no sleep like the sleep you get in your own bed.
Callie will be there though… what the hell was wrong with her at lunch? She was acting so weird.
*THUD**THUD*
"Open up Robbins!"
What the hell… you have got to be kidding me…
I drag myself to the door and open it… of course,
"What do you want?" I squint, trying to adjust to the drastically bright light in the corridor.
"I wanna' use this room…"
"Well clearly, I'm using it! Go away Mark!" I say groggily.
He just pushes the door open and comes in, closing it behind him.
"C'mon Blondie! It's that hot Ortho chick!" he almost whines.
What.
"Wh – what? What are you talking about?" I blink a couple of times to wake my drowsy brain.
"Yeah… I wanna' use this room –" he smirks, "- for her… she's waitin' outside, so get out" he signals toward the door behind him.
I don't think I heard him right. I can feel hot bile rise up in my throat and I have to swallow thickly to keep it down.
"Whoa, you okay there Robbins?" he supports my shoulder, but I just shrug him off.
"You – you're sleeping wit – Callie's sleeping with… you?" I don't even try to hide the hurt tremor in my voice.
"Wh –"
"Bu – but she's married!" I interrupt, voice slightly panicked. She seemed so much more…
"Hey, whoa slow down!" he grabs me both of his hands on either bicep.
I oblige, staring him right in the eye – which is why I find it surprising that my vision is a little bit clouded.
"Not her! The – that sexy Ortho nurse… Colleen?"
Wha – did I hear him right?
"Co – colleen?" I swallow, dropping me gaze; slightly embarrassed now.
What the hell got into me?
"Yeahh…" he drawls out, staring at me like I have three ears, "… jeez Robbins, anyways, so, get out."
I just stand there, my hazy brain still absorbing everything that happened in the last minute.
"Robbins! You had your chance with her! Now I want it too, so let's go!" he walks toward the door and opens it.
I don't know why but, I gratify.
We both walk out the door only to see nobody standing there.
"Dammit! She left!?" Mark complaints.
I try to fix my bed-hair as I finger comb through it, "Maybe… she got paged?" I offer with a hair-tie between my lips.
He just groans some inexplicable curse word.
"If it helps… Shirley in Derm. is way more flexible… I mean –"I tighten my ponytail, "- she can put both her legs over her head and… strong hands" I smile at a displeased Mark as we start walking toward the elevator.
I look up ahead and my mouth automatically curls into a smile, "Calliope…"
Had I looked before, I would have seen her watching me as I exited the On-Call room.
She's standing with a Carmine Louis Vuitton suede handbag strapped across her shoulder; a black woolen coat now on that hot grey dress. She can pull off sexy in a paper bag for God's sake…
"Hey…" she says in a strange high-pitch, repeatedly punching the elevator 'Down' button.
Mark, of course, looks enchanted to see her… and his debauch gaze trails down her body.
"Umm… Arizona –"she exhales,"- turns out, I don't think I'm gonna' be able to make it tonight" she says with a shifty gaze, not meeting mine.
"No! C'mon Callie… why not?" Gee… nice job not seeming like a drooly, desperate teenager…
"Well Alleg –" she starts before Mark interrupts her,
"Dr. Torres…" he says in a raspy whisper, leaning way too close to her for my liking.
She just stares at him, "It'll be fun…" he winks, "You can bet on it…" that smirk.
"Excuse me?" she furrows her eyebrows, looking at me expectantly.
"Mark!" I pronounce, "She's married…"
Callie's eyes seem to get wider in astonishment, "… And –" she looks back and forth from me to Mark, "- wh – am I missing something?" she seems genuinely perplexed now.
"Whaddaya' mean?" Mark examines her face curiously.
I have to say, I agree with him on this…
"Wel –" Callie looks at me, "She's standing right here!"
Mark and I just stare at her.
She laughs confoundedly, "Aren't you two –"she points between us, " – a – a thing?"
"What…?" Mark and I exclaim simultaneously.
Is she serious?
I can't control the irrepressible giggle which escapes my lips at the most absurd accusation I have ever heard, it merges with Mark's gruff laughter.
Callie, on the other hand, does not look amused.
"You – you –" I gasp, "- you think me and Mark!? Ew!"
"Hey!" Mark knits his eyebrows in genuine insult at me, "But no…" he turns to Callie, "The closest Blondie and I –" he gestures between us, "- got to that… is sleeping with the same woman" he chuckles.
Callie's eyes widen, raising her eyebrows in a blend of intrigue and astonishment.
Callie looks at me for confirmation as she almost sheepishly tugs on her lower lip.
"This is true…" I show my dimples.
"Oh… I just –" she looks between us, "- I thought because of…" she trails off as the elevator signals it's presence.
All three of us walk into the elevator, Mark and I with huge, amused grins across our face.
Callie stands between us, somehow with an awkward vibe in the air.
I can't help but burst out in a fit of giggles at the thought, Mark assists.
"Oh shut up!" Callie whines irritably. I can't help but notice how uh-dorable she looks…
"Okay… okay… " I stifle the bubbling laughter, "I'm sorry…"
I can almost see her blush with embarrassment; it wasn't that big a deal…
We walk out the elevator without any pertinent dialogue when,
"Colleen!" Mark bellows through the lobby when he spots the slim brunette across the parking lot.
"I'll see you ladies later…" he winks as he paces out the automatic doors.
Callie can't help but succumb to the amused smile across her face now.
"Hey Robbins!" he turns around, "any tips?"
I just smile at him, "You know those Fritters? The ones with the strawberry jelly inside?"
He nods with a dirty smirk, "Knock yourself out…" I chuckle.
"I owe you one Blondie!" he jogs out the exit.
Callie and I just walk toward the doors; her face seems strangely relaxed now.
"Calliope?"
"Hmm?" she turns toward me.
"You're going home?" I ask, failing to hide the disappointment in her voice.
"Yeah… I'm going to change, take a shower and I'll see you at Joe's at around 9?" she asks casually.
"You're coming?" I ask with excited trepidation.
"Yeah…" she smiles simply.
"YAY!" Okay… I need to cut down on the coffee…
"Yay?" she chuckles.
"What?" I ask a little diffidently.
"Nothing –" she laughs, "You're just –" she shakes her head with one of the most breathtaking smiles I have ever seen.
"What?" I breath out, my gaze falls to her mouth… I don't know what she's going to say, but my heart begins to run anyways.
Her smile narrows in the slightest way as her eyes seem to absorb in my face, I can swear I feel the heat radiate off her body, I wonder if she can hear my chest beat, "I –" she shakes her head as if to wake up out of some reverie, "- nothing…" she swallows, dropping her gaze and starting toward the door abruptly, "See, ya'"
"Yea – yeah…" I knit my eyebrows.
What in hell was that?
I can feel my palms sweat…
"I have to go home and shower and stuff too…" I add.
She just smiles halfheartedly at me as she walks out the door, but then turns around slowly, "Okay… then, bye…"
"Bye…" I smile… she is really beautiful.
Watching her right now, standing there in the moonlight. Her honey-colored skin glistening in the dark, that tingling smile, that rich unearthly blend of emotions painting her face, that wavy soft hair flowing with the air…
I know.
I don't want her as a one night stand, I don't want to turn her… I don't want anything but all of her.
"I'll see you tonight…" she says as she walks down the dark parking lot.
"Yeah…"
Tonight…
A/N: Thanks for reading and sticking around. I hope you all let me know what you think, whether it is positive or negative, feedback is SO much appreciated and it makes me a better writer, so don't hold back. Reviews really the best form of encouragement… and if you can't review, it still means so much to me that you guys are reading and enjoying.
Anyways, I promise I'll try to update sooner this time. Let me know what you thought!
