A/N: This chapter kind of requires you to forget what you know about the characters, and probably hate them both a little bit. So far I've just really wanted to focus on this intense sexual connection that they have that kind of makes them do crazy things.

Callie's POV

I'm sitting on the closed toilet lid an hour later as Arizona takes a shower to get ready for her dinner plans. I'm exhausted from the sex, but completely sated.

She's telling me about her dinner tonight with potential donors to the hospital when her cell phone beeps from the other room.

"That's a text message. Can you read that to me? Maybe it's the donors calling to cancel and you and I can pick up where we left off," she says laughing. I grab her phone from the bedroom and walk back into the bathroom, opening the text message. Aloud, I read:

"Hey! Haven't seen you in a while… I'm still up for that second date if you are. Xo, Theresa"

Arizona stands quietly for a moment before turning the water off. She grabs the towel from over the rack and opens the shower door, getting out.

"That's…" she starts. "I didn't sleep with her."

Me, I'm still a little flabbergasted by the turn this evening has seemingly taken. It's not every day that you accidentally intercept a text message from one of your lovers' other lovers.

"No, hey," I rush in. "It'd be okay if you did. I mean, we're…" I shrug. What are we? "We're dating. Right? Dating… Whoever."

She eyes me warily, as if this might be a trap.

"But I would never intentionally put it in your face like this. It's totally bad form," she says.

"No, look, it's okay. I get it," I say. "We're doctors, we know how difficult it is to have long-term relationships. I'm not even… looking for that."

What am I saying? And why can't I stop?

"Well, that's a relief," she smiles. "That we're on the same page. Because I really like seeing you. And I'd like to keep seeing you."

"I'd like to keep seeing you, too. We'll just keep it… light and easy," I say.

"Perfect," she agrees. And I don't even really know what I'm signing up for.

The next day at work Mark corners me in a supply closet.

"Heard about your hot blonde peds surgeon," he says, smacking me on the back.

"What? How?"

"Yang."

"Cristina didn't know she was a peds surgeon."

"Yes, but apparently she overheard the name Arizona quite a bit the other night. So I googled her. Turns out she's the only Arizona in New York."

"That's creepy."

"True," he shrugs. "The real question is, why haven't I heard it from you?"

"Ugh, Mark. I don't know. It's not a big deal. We're just… kind of casually dating."

"And what does that mean for two chicks? That you actually wait a few months before moving in together?"

"Ha ha," I deadpanned. "No. I don't know. We're just dating. Sleeping together."

"Nice. Well, that's pretty evolved of you, Torres. You're a real man, now."

"Gee thanks."

I'm on-call that evening, and as I head to a room to catch some sleep I find Mark already in one of the beds.

"You staying here, too?" I ask.

"Just waiting for you," he says, moving over so that I can climb in bed. "Real quick?" he says, leaning over me on his elbow.

"Real quick," I say, "I'm exhausted."

Mark smirks and brings his lips to mine. My relationship with Mark has never been very conventional. He has recently become my go-to guy for sex again, despite me dating exclusively women. And I absolutely realize how wrong this is on so many levels, but it generally works for me. And it always works for him.

Except that we haven't had sex since I met Arizona.

And now his stubble feels just a little too rough on my chin. His hand is running down my body and I am all too aware of its size, so different from that of a woman's. From Arizona's.

I am only distantly conscious of the fact that he is untying my scrub pants, and that his hand has made its way into my panties. He is rubbing, trying to get a reaction from me, but none is forthcoming.

"Cal, you okay?" he whispers. He isn't used to feeling me dry and unresponsive.

I look at him pityingly. "I'm sorry," I say, removing his hand from my pants. "I guess I'm just not into it today."

I can tell he is disappointed, feel his disappointment pressing against my thigh. But he smiles anyway and says, "That's okay." He kisses me on the forehead before heading out for the night.

Arizona's POV

It is nearly a week later when I see Callie again, the longest I have gone without seeing her since we first met. I can hardly think of anything but her, and for every day that we realize that our schedules clash it gets worse. Finally, we are able to set a date in stone.

She suggests a coffeehouse near my apartment. When she arrives, I help her out of her jacket, place a chaste kiss on her lips, and ask her how she knows my area so well.

"Not many people now about this coffee shop."

"My good friend Mark lives near here actually," she says.

"So that's why you were on my train that morning."

"Yeah. Call it kismet, I guess," she says, laughing. God she has such a beautiful laugh.

In that moment I want nothing more than to keep her laughing. And for this I have to really break out the good stuff. My first kiss story, with my female next door neighbor at the ripe old age of 9. The time in high school when I got too drunk to drive, so my friends and I pushed my car the whole way home so that I wouldn't miss curfew (and incur the wrath of my military father). Some of my more minor embarrassments as a medical student.

And she did laugh. And her laugh was so infectious. And I was a bit smitten.

We decide to try a date that doesn't involve sex. But then she takes a sip of her cappuccino and some of the froth sticks to her top lip. And as I wipe it away with my thumb our eyes lock and the rest, as they say, is history.

(We lock ourselves into the single-patron bathroom and she grips the sink tightly as I take her, hard and fast, from behind. This is her favorite way to be taken).