Title: Another Statement of Causality (25/?)
Author: Maggiemerc
Rating: M
Status: In Progress
Pairings: Callie/Arizona, Cristina/Owen, Callie/Owen, Teddy/Owen, Amelia/Lexie. Basically if they look at each other something is going on. Except for Meredith and Cristina. Theirs is a deep and platonic love.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. It is a tragedy I suffer through daily.
Summary: If Callie is meant to be with Arizona and Cristina is meant to be with Owen but Callie and Owen are married with kids then something must change. The status quo must shift. A continuation of 8x13 "If/Then."
Chapter 25
It was a misnomer that it always rained in Seattle. It was cloudy in Seattle. Perpetually cloudy. And often times fog would come rolling down the mountain into the city and soak the streets with a fine mist that turned visibility to nothing. But that wasn't actual rain. The real rainy days were few and far between and Cristina was currently stuck under the ER awning watching it come down in sheets. She felt hands tie her trauma gown on and turned her head. She half expected it to be Owen. Half hoped. But instead it was Dr. Robbins.
"You're off your crutches."
She stuck her foot out and appraised it, "Got the go ahead an hour ago. Still sore as all hell. I'm supposed to keep the running today down to a minimum."
Robbins pulled her hair away from her neck and Cristina tied her gown up for her. "So you decided to handle the trauma coming in?"
"I like to challenge myself."
They waited in silence, listening for the distant wail of sirens.
"How's Owen?"
Cristina flinched at the name, "I wouldn't know."
She felt the pediatric surgeon's dark eyes on her. "Okay," she said enigmatically.
"Callie?"
"Divorcing Owen. Officially."
She hadn't known that. Hadn't seen him. In fact she'd been avoiding him since Teddy showed up. Part of her was thrilled at the divorce being something more than a future possibility. But there was still Teddy. Awfully kind and completely oblivious Teddy who was actually an amazing surgeon and an excellent teacher.
Footsteps behind them and then there was another yellow trauma gown beside them. Hahn.
"Dr. Robbins," she said.
"Dr. Hahn," Robbins said brightly. Apparently their feud had ended.
"I had fun the other night."
Cristina resisted the overwhelming urge to turn and watch the conversation first hand. She schooled her face into something neutral.
"I—me too."
Uh oh. She really wanted to look. She wasn't a gossipy woman. She didn't revel in other people's social problems, but she was pretty sure Hahn was talking about a date and as she was also pretty sure Robbins was dating Torres the potential for drama was enticing. Like watching a really good movie.
The ambulance pulled to a stop in front of them and Arizona shot her a warning look as they opened the doors and accepted the injured child being wheeled out of the ambulance.
"Page Hunt," Hahn growled to a nurse as they ran the kid into a trauma room with Robbins riding on the gurney and using her hand the staunch bleeding.
When he entered the trauma room Cristina realized how much she'd missed seeing him. His hair looked a little darker than it was the last time she'd seen it and he was growing out a beard that gave him a rugged quality she normally shied away from.
He only nodded at her and got to work so Cristina did the same. Those few minutes in the trauma room were electric. She was working with three of the best surgeons in the country to keep a ten year old alive. They were fast, confident and stern but operated in that room like in a ballet. Dancing around one another and focusing entirely on the child beneath them.
"We need to move this upstairs," Robbins said, applying a clamp to a bleeder, "he's as stable as he's going to be down here."
Hahn started to agree but Hunt was already ordering an orderly to get the OR prepped.
"You scrubbing in," Hahn asked her.
She glanced down at the kid. It would be an epic surgery. Hours in the OR. Hours with Hunt. She glanced at him and he pegged her with a stare that immediately reminded her why she avoided him usually. But still… "Yes ma'am."
"All right. Let's move."
Robbins hopped back on the bed and they made the dash to the elevator.
It was hour two of the surgery when the drama descended. They'd been going strong. Each doctor hard at work to save a young boy's life. Everyone was calm and professional and there was a sense of urgency to the proceedings.
Then Hahn casually asked, "Up for a drink tonight?"
It was clear whom she was asking, but that didn't stop Owen from pausing briefly to watch Robbins. She smiled behind her mask. "I'd love to but yeah, I can't."
"Okay, how about tomorrow? I'm thinking we could check out someplace besides Joe's."
"You went to Joe's?"
Cristina cringed internally. Owen was trying to sound casual. Maybe to the others he did sound casual. But she picked up at his tone easily enough. She looked across the table at Robbins, who judging from the look she gave Cristina, recognized the tone as well.
"A couple of nights ago. Robbins here tried to teach me about tequila."
"She did?"
His voice was like ice.
"We were celebrating a case."
Oh that was a lie. Cristina didn't even know the woman and she knew that much.
Hahn laughed, "Sure. The case of me finally dumping my ex."
Robbins sighed, Owen glared and Hahn kept working.
It struck her in that exact moment just how deep it all went. Not all the weird lesbian stuff, but her feelings for Owen. Because she was jealous. Insanely jealous of a woman he was ostensibly divorcing, but a woman who still made him protective and territorial. He was glaring at Robbins and the anger came off of him in waves and Cristina realized that she kind actually wanted him to get that angry for her.
She wanted to be that woman.
At hour five Owen finished his work and stepped back.
"Doctor Hunt," Robbins said worryingly. He stared at her long and hard.
"Owen," Cristina said.
His eyes snapped to her and it almost seemed like some of the anger left him.
"I should go," he growled.
Robbins looked like she wanted to follow him. Her instruments sagged in her hand and her body shifted towards the door. But Hahn, still entirely oblivious to the tension between the other surgeons, called her attention back to the boy in front of them.
"You know if you don't want to go out I can always come over," she continued, "I found a great wine vendor the other day and he's been importing some excellent stuff for me."
Robbins dared to look at Cristina and then did another of her little concilatory smiles, "I don't think that'd be a good idea."
Hahn paused.
"I just—I'm seeing someone."
The tall blond surgeon turned into a block of ice. "Oh," she said. It was like a craftsman chipping ice directly from the whole. The scrub nurse shared a look with the anesthesiologist. And the temperature continued to plummet.
####
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Shitty shitterson from shitsville.
Her feet were moving faster than her brain which had short circuited into variations on the word representing what she was about to be mired in. She was in trouble. Massive trouble. Breaking up and never speaking to each other again and sobbing for days and pondering the point of existence kind of trouble.
Because she'd promised Mark, God and country that she'd tell Callie about her ill-conceived date with Hahn. She'd sworn up and down to herself in the mirror that she'd tell her. But then they'd steal a kiss in the hallway or smile as they went their separate ways after work and it didn't come up. It couldn't come up. They were in a bashful and delicate phase in their relationship. Taking it slow. Being old fashioned. Being courteous.
Never mind she couldn't get the other woman out of her head. She craved her. Her taste. Her touch. The way her body had undulated beneath her mouth. God. She wanted Callie.
And maybe just once she was an idiot. She misinterpreted and misjudged and went on a date to see if there was more to the world than Callie Torres's dark eyes and leering lips. And there wasn't. She was it. She was the beginning and the end. Arizona's very own ouroboros.
And somewhere in this stupid hospital she was stewing—digesting the news Owen had no doubt gleefully delivered. Because the guy was still in love. He might have the papers and he might live with his mom but that was jealousy seeping out of him in the OR.
She would have run but her ankle was quick to remind her that that would only make things more disastrous. So she sort of hopped and skipped and jogged. Karev called out to her as she rounded a corner but she ignored him. She had a goal. A very good goal.
She burst into the blissfully empty resident's lounge where Callie was all alone doing paperwork and sucking on a pen with that beautiful mouth.
"I'm sorry," she started out. That was her plan. Overwhelm Callie with apologies until she had to forgive her. Keep going Robbins. "I should have told you. The other day on the couch I should have just said it, but I didn't. Because it didn't mean anything. She meant nothing. You mean…stuff. You mean a lot and I was angry and stupid and we didn't sleep together. We didn't even kiss. I mean I was pretty drunk and sad but I definitely didn't kiss her because she's not you. You're who I want to kiss. Forever. You know—if things go that way. I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."
The pen fell from her lips. "Who didn't mean anything?"
She half expected to see Owen magically appear behind Callie grinning like a self satisfied jerk.
"You didn't…"
Callie raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
"I went on a date with Hahn."
The eyebrow fell. The confusion disappeared and was replaced with melancholia. "Oh."
"It didn't mean any—"
"You were mad at me. After I yelled at you in the Peds ward."
She nodded.
"So to hurt me you went on a date with someone else?"
"No."
"Then why else would you do it? And why else would you tell me?"
"Owen—"
"No," she held up her hand as if you physically stop Arizona, "You don't get to throw my ex in my face right now."
She was so calm. Even tempered. Curious. But calm. Meanwhile Arizona's heart was beating so fast and she was a little sweaty because she was still wearing her scrub cap. She was even sweaty between her shoulder blades. A drop of sweat ran down her back and she had the urge to scratch. And Callie was just watching her. Waiting for an explanation.
"You yelled," she heard herself say. "And I panicked."
Callie sucked on her lip and seemed to think about that. "So you were an idiot."
She shrugged weakly.
"And the other day in your apartment, when I came and did my own rambling apology, you just let me."
"I was still mad."
"You know that's not how mature adult relationships work. Right?"
Arizona tried to come closer. Callie didn't make an effort to move so she knelt in front of her and put her hand over Callie's. "I'm so sorry."
Callie leaned in, "I don't want drama."
"Me either." That was the whole reason she went on the stupid date in the first place.
A hand reached out to cup her cheek. "I just want you you idiot."
Arizona honestly never thought she'd hear herself being called an idiot and consider it a term of affection. But when Callie said it it was like an intimate little nickname. A private joke just for them.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
She gave Arizona a peck on the lips but before she could lean back Arizona darted forward and deepened the kiss. She let her hand fall to Callie's thigh and her thumb moved in slow circles just above the knee.
Callie sighed into her mouth and Arizona remembered their agreement. To take things slow. Reluctantly she commanded her hand to stay put and move no further up Callie's thigh and she broke the kiss.
"I really am sorry," she said again.
Callie gave her another brief kiss. "For what? Going on a date or going on a date with my boss who hates me?"
She winced.
"Because I'm a little pissed about that."
"Then why are we—"
"I can be pissed and still want to kiss you."
They separated and Arizona stood up. Her hands were a little sweaty and she had to wipe them against her scrubs. "Are you really that angry?"
"It's Erica Hahn! The woman demoted me to the point that I'm going to have to work eighty hour weeks if I want to keep my job and you went on a date with her because you apparently have the emotional maturity of a two year old."
"Wow, what happened to accepting an apology?"
Callie stood up. "I am," she exclaimed, gesticulating broadly with her hands.
"You just called me two and told me you were pissed."
"Right. But just because I'm mad doesn't mean I haven't forgiven you. You did something stupid. It happens. I did stupid stuff too."
"Like sleep with me."
"Don't."
"Right? You said it the other day. We went too fast and you regret it."
Callie was frowning now. "I don't regret sleeping with you."
"You want to take things slow though. Want to roll us back. If that isn't because of regret then what—"
"Just…just shut up Arizona." Now she was rubbing her hand against her forehead like Arizona's words actually gave her a headache. And she was trying to shush her with her free hand.
"No. You know if this was just a fling. You trying to get over Owen and explore your horizons than just tell me. I can take it."
Callie opened her mouth. Like she wanted to say yes. Like she wanted to admit everything Arizona had just said was true. But instead her shoulders sagged and she sighed. "I'm gonna go. Because thanks to Hahn I have another surgery. But," she paused at the door, "just to be clear? Me ignoring that idiotic little rant and walking out does not give you license to go on dates with other women? Okay?"
The door snicked shut behind her and Arizona took up the recently vacated chair. And sighed loudly. Dating was hard work.