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A/N: Chapter 9/12 of New Adventures
New Adventures is a set of stories inspired by Callie/Erica and their cupid, Mark Sloan. The action picks up after S4 finale, may contain some spoilers for S5, but not much because I don't know much. This set of stories should be completely done before the S5 premiere, and should help me survive the next month.
All chapter titles are borrowed from R.E.M.'s album, New Adventures in Hi-Fi, but rearranged to fit the narrative.
Chapter 9, Leave, is told from Callie Torres's POV.
NOTE: Okay, the title totally does not fit this chapter – which is a GOOD thing, for sure. That's what happens when you decide the chapter titles before you write anything down. Anyway….Dear Baby Jesus, only 3 more chapters left and then it will be season premiere week!! YAY!
As always, I really appreciate reviews and encouragement of all types. PLEASE. Ok thanks.
I don't own Grey's Anatomy or R.E.M., or any of the characters therein.
……
"Leave" – R.E.M. – New Adventures in Hi-Fi (1996)
I´ve longed for
this to take me,
I´ve longed for my release
……
The Archfield Hotel is like a giant aphrodisiac for me. Something about living in a hotel where couples check in for trysts, hookups, or God-knows-what, has an amazing effect on me. It's as if all the passion oozing from all the rooms channels itself into my consciousness. When I live there, sex is all I can think about.
Christina kicked me of her place after I threw up in her bathroom, and I couldn't bear going back to the basement of Seattle Grace knowing that Erica Hahn could find me. So, I did what I had to do: I called my father and asked him to pay for a room at the Archfield. I played it perfectly, emphasizing my post-divorce depression and pleading for his help. He was powerless against his clever daughter.
The first night at the Archfield consisted of bad television, good room service, and me reminiscing about my own sexual history at the Archfield – George, then Mark, then more George. Amazingly, the sadness and regret that usually accompanied thoughts of my failed marriage were gone, replaced by pleasant recollections of the good moments.
My mind tricked me: despite my efforts to remember that Erica abandoned me at the beach, never called, and ignored me daily at the hospital – all I could think about was touching her. My mind created vivid scenarios of her and me in the Jacuzzi bathtub of my hotel room, ordering bottles of whipped cream from room service, and having wild passionate sex in every corner of the well-decorated room. And that was just the first night. After a week, I was over the edge.
My confidence blew past previous heights when I borrowed a page from Mark Sloan's playbook and concentrated on the way Erica acted when she saw me at the hospital – deliberately avoiding eye contact, pretending to do read charts whenever I passed by. I realized then, despite her insistence that a relationship at work was off the table, that she would not be able to resist Callie Torres. Not for long.
I saw my chance the day that she entered the cafeteria and sat alone. Erica pretended not to notice me, I pretended not to notice Izzie Stevens get a shin-kick from Yang, and all the residents pretended that Erica and I were invisible. The time was now. I reached into my scrubs pocket and retrieved the Archfield Hotel card with my room number already scribbled on the back.
I made my way to her table, back ramrod straight, knowing that nothing could stop me. Game on.
……
I let her knock four times as I slowly made my way to the door. I could sense that is was her, the butterflies started to flutter in my stomach despite my attempts to squash them down. Go with the flow, I thought. I flung open the door, surprising her, and leaned my body against the heavy oak door, drink in hand.
"Dr. Torres," Erica drawled, her eyes drinking me in from head to toe. "So nice to see you."
"Dr. Hahn. Please, come in. Can I offer you a drink?" I said, motioning towards the mini-bar. She entered, taking off her coat and tossing it on a chair.
"Tequila, if you have it. Nice place," she said, surveying the room, her eyes lingering on the large king-size bed, freshly made up.
"I'm not complaining," I turned to get her a drink, setting my down, hands shaking slightly. I hoped she didn't notice. I skimped on the ice, knowing that she'd thank me later. I brought it over to the bed where she sat. Don't sit down yet, I told myself.
"Erica," I said, purposefully, as I stood above her, sipping my scotch.
"Before you say anything, it's time for me to apologize again. I had a heart-to-heart with Sloan, and he really opened up my eyes. I've been so selfish, so stupid," she said, looking down into her drink and then bringing her blue eyes to meet mine.
"Sloan?"
"I had a moment of clarity – and he helped me achieve it. Who would have thought? I'm tired of pretending, it's making both of us miserable. You deserve so much more than that. I'm ready to do this all the way. At work, after work, before work. All the time. That is," she paused, still gazing at me, "if you are."
Erica Hahn blindsided me again. After a week of endless fantasy, I was willing to accept any of her rules just to be next to her. But she turned the tables, and gave me the best gift I'd ever gotten. I exhaled and sat down next to her on the giant bed. I wrapped my arms around her tightly.
"You have no idea how happy you have made me, Dr. Hahn," I whispered into her ear. "And make no mistake about it, even though this has never happened to me before, I'm ready. So ready," I leaned in and kissed her, her mouth opening to accept my exploring tongue. It wasn't long before we fell back on the bed, hands roaming each other's bodies and peeling off each other's clothes.
Erica moaned as I kissed her collarbone, my hands deftly unhooking her bra and removing it in a swift motion. Every movement felt completely natural, as if I'd been waiting my whole life for this opportunity. My body was filled with excitement as my lips made their way toward her breasts. I took my time, giving each one proper attention, as Erica continued to writhe beneath me.
"You're sure," she panted, pulling her body up further on the bed, "that you've never done this?"
"Positive," I said, moving my mouth back to hers and forcing my knee between her thighs. I smiled, taking in her beauty, her blonde hair spread out on the pillow, her cheeks rosy.
"Don't stop now," she commanded, smiling back and pulling my head in for another kiss.
……
By the time the sun peeked in through the hotel window, Erica and I had acted out nearly every one of my fantasies, except the whipped cream. She surprised me, continuously, with her stamina throughout the night. In the morning, I woke first, her arms and legs wrapped around me and holding on tight.
"Erica," I said, rubbing her arm. She stirred for a second, relaxed her legs so that I could wriggle out and stand up, and then went right back to sleep. "You're NOT going back to sleep, are you?"
"Hm. Saturday. Sleep."
"No way – we have things to do, and uh… I'm gonna order whipped cream from room service." That got her, as a smile spread across her face. She opened her eyes, her eyes raking my naked body up and down. Twice.
"Whipped cream. Let's do it," she said, awake, rolling out of bed and into the bathroom. "Shower time. You order, okay?"
I placed the order, and then walked around the room, picking up and separating our clothes. I felt reborn, a sense of purpose and belonging that had eluded me since – well, forever. I smiled as I reached under a pillow to retrieve Erica's underwear. I folded her clothes and set them on the bathroom counter and then I got dressed.
Erica stepped out of the bathroom, fully clothed, and drying her hair with a towel when the food arrived with a curt knock. I looked at her, thinking all kinds of dirty thoughts. "You know that whipped cream is going to do to those jeans, right?"
She laughed as I flung the door open, laughing, and stopped instantly. In the doorway stood my father, holding a bouquet of flowers and a box of candy. I blinked and took a step back, floored.
"Calliope!" Dad exclaimed, shoving the candy into my hand.
"Dad?" I tried to close the door to hide the well-used bed and the freshly-cleaned girlfriend. No such luck. He pushed the door completely open. Erica didn't miss a beat, stepping forward and extending her hand.
"You must be Mr. Torres. Dr. Erica Hahn," she smiled. "Nice to meet you."
"The pleasure is mine," he said, always the gentlemen, and bent to kiss her hand.
"You're just in time for breakfast, dad!" I exclaimed with a fake smile, shoving my father and Erica out the door desperately, knowing the incriminating whipped cream delivery was mere moments away. "Let's go downstairs!"
