Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Alright, I know that there wasn't at CGAH update today but my puppy was sick and I had to stay home most of the day. And working from home isn't the easiest thing to do when your baby is throwing up every two hours or so. Anyways… here is at least ONE update for today. Hoping to have a CGAH update for ya'll tomorrow. Hope this one will make it up to ya'll. ….Enjoy!

Chapter 3

"Welcome to your humble abode!" Teddy exclaims, opening the door to apartment number 26, situated on the second story. Arizona follows the taller blonde into the dwelling, stepping directly into a very cluttered living room. "Excuse the mess. Between Monday and Saturday, it looks like a bomb exploded. Sundays is when we tidy up and clean." The first base man explains.

"How many live here?" Arizona asks, seeing a hallway leading off on either side of the living room/ kitchen/ dining room.

"With you, four. All the apartments are quads. We share the living room, then down either hallway is two bedrooms and a single bathroom." Teddy says, leading Arizona down the hallway to the right. The new comer, tightly gripping the single duffle bag that contains everything she needs in the world, peeks into the first room. Clothes litter the floor, as well as books, softballs, a couple bats along with a number of other items that keeps her new friend entertained.

"Who is on the other side?" Arizona asks, not hearing the voices of her other two roommates in the apartment.

"King and Kepner." The tour guide answers. "Charlotte can be a bit bitchy in the mornings. …And afternoon. Well, evenings too but…" Stopping in her tracks, Teddy turns and stares down at the shorter blonde. "Actually, it'd probably be best you avoid Charlotte for the time being. And Kepner, well… she's Kepner. You could spit in her face and she'd still smile at you." Turning back and continuing towards the bedrooms, she continues "I guess Webber was thinking when he made room assignments."

"This one is yours." Teddy finally says, opening the second door and revealing a bare room with just a bedframe, mattress, a cheap five drawer dresser, chair and desk. For all intents and purposes, it's a dorm room. Four people sharing a small space and trying to get along together. The entire apartment complex is laid out to where the apartment doors are accessed from outside, with a main building at the center of the small complex that serves as a commons building.

Arizona takes a few steps into her new digs, eyes scanning the very empty and bare room. In the middle of the mattress is a pile of clothes, all being the size of the young blonde. Lightly running a finger over the soft material of the shirts and shorts, she finds the bright red cleats and a smile crosses her lips.

"I'll get you one of my bed sets." Teddy says, knowing her newest teammate won't have a chance to get what she needs to make up her bunk. When she gets back, Altman finds Arizona sitting on the edge of the worn out and ripped mattress, a shirt grasped in her hands. Blue eyes are locked on the bright white letters that spell out 'Robbins', and just underneath it, the logo of Team USA.

"You're in the big time now, new girl." Teddy states, then sets the mattress pad and sheets down next to the quiet woman. "See you tomorrow." With that, Altman backs out of the room and leaves Arizona to herself for the night.

"So who's the new girl?" A freshly showered Addison Montgomery asks, plopping down on the worn out couch of apartment 16, just below apartment 26.

Not bothering to move her feet from the middle cushion, Callie starts "Alabama-"

"Arizona." Naomi Campbell cuts the Latina off. "Arizona Robbins." Which just gets a grunt out of Callie.

"Where she come from?" The redhead asks just as Amelia Shepard comes plodding into the living room and taking the last open seat in the place. Dark eyes don't look up from the book she is reading as silence fills the room. Then a foot kicks her legs, making the Latina's eyes snap up to her friend. "Hello? Where did she come from, Cal?" Addison asks again.

"How the hell should I know? You got the same amount of information as me, Monty." Callie growls, feeling her exhaustion seeping into her mood. What she really wanted to do was to fall into bed as soon as she got back home after dinner, but the large pile of laundry haunted her. Faced with the decision of either enduring a couple more hours without sleep, or going to practice tomorrow in her skivvies, the Latina resigned to the fact that her procrastination had finally caught up with her and now she had to take the beating.

"Pitcher, right?" Amelia asks, trying to seem like she could care less either way. But the knowing look from her catcher tells her that Callie knows better. "Is she good?"

"She made the team, didn't she Little Shep?" Naomi sneers sarcastically, which gets a middle finger from the shorter brunette.

"She's…" Callie starts, her mind taking her back to the feeling of the newcomer's pitches hitting her glove. "She's got some juice."

"Like… what kind of juice?" The younger Shepard asks, suddenly very anxious.

When brown eyes see the nerves coming off of her pitcher, Callie knows she has to soothe the woman before she goes off the handle. "You're good, don't worry. No one is taking our number one spot." The Latina says, adding a wink to let Amelia know that she's still top dog. Hearing her catcher say that her first string position isn't in jeopardy; the brunette bids her roommates good night. Callie watches her leave, all the while the same funny feeling in the pit of her stomach makes her know something is up. Amelia and Callie have been teammates for nearly two years, they've been the first string battery for nearly two years which means they know each other. They know when each other is on top of their game, and when the other is struggling. And right now, the Torres gut is telling the Latina that something is up with her pitcher… and for some reason, it started a couple months before Jenny up and left the team high and dry.

A knocking on their front door pulls Callie out of her thoughts, and when Naomi opens it in strides Derek Shepard, the teams batting coach. With a polite smile to the rest of his players, the coach takes Addison by the hand and leads her off into the redhead's bedroom. Naomi and Callie watch them leave the main area and exchange a knowing look.

"I got laundry calling my name." Torres announces, pushing her tired body up and out of the couch.

"And I've got to find something to shove in my ears." Naomi growls and then retreats to the sanctuary of her room. With that, Callie walks out of her apartment and towards the small common building, hoping that no one has snagged the last of the dryers.

"Alright ladies, circle up!" Coach Webber calls to the mass of 14 women lounging around the soft grass of field 1 in their softball complex. All eyes snap up, their side conversations fading out as 14 women stand and brush the grass off their uniforms. It's not usual custom to practice in their game day uniforms, but the head coach sent out a mass text saying for the players to wear their Red and White's today. Arizona was ecstatic, getting to put on THE Team USA uniform for the first time. The pure white pants hugging every inch of her lithe body and the flowing, red material of her jersey framing her strong build just right. Not to mention the white lettering of 'Robbins' on the back, underneath a large number '7'. Lucky number 7 the blonde has been since she started playing ball, and it seemed like a sign when she found out that the number was available for her to take.

Callie Torres, also clad in very well fitting white pants and flowing red jersey with the American Flag displayed proudly across the shirt, ambles over to the mass of girls and listens up to the photographer talk. Today's practice is all about getting team photos done and over with. The team roster is set so now comes the fun of the media. It soon become evident that getting 14 women, plus 4 men, all arranged perfectly is more time consuming than thought. Under the hot Oklahoma City sun, sweat soon starts to trickle down everyone's neck.

"Alright, nice ladies. Now we'll start with individuals." The young man with about five different cameras around his neck announces.

The next few hours pass in a manner atypical to a usual practice. Women play their positions, but only one at a time and not at their usual intensity. It's all about getting the nice looking shot for the promotions to come. It grates on Callie Torres's nerves, wasting a practice just so she can get photographed in her catcher's gear, or ripping her mask off, swing a bat or hauling off a throw to second. But she also knows that it's part of the deal, so the Latina sucks it up just like the rest of the team.

Arizona, having had her photograph taken while she pitched a few, as well as a couple at shortstop and in with a bat in her hand, is leaning against the dugout wall, sucking down some water when her pitching coach approaches. "Blondie 1 and Blondie 2, come with me." He yells, then stalks off to the small bullpen between two fields. Robbins, completely lost, looks around and finds the only other blonde in her vicinity.

"He mean's us." The larger blonde woman says, and Arizona vaguely recalls Teddy telling her that this woman is Erica Hahn.

"Right." Arizona says softly, then grabs her glove and follows.

"You run when you're on my field!" Mark yells when he sees his two players slacking off. With that, both blondes start to jog after him. When they catch up to the man, he has a clipboard in one hand and a stop watch in the other.

"You two have met?" He asks, not really caring either way.

Arizona turns to her fellow teammate and holds out a hand. "Arizona Robbins." She adds a dimpled smile just for good measure. Years of experience have told her that those little dimples can have a big impact on someone's first impression of her.

"Erica Hahn." The taller woman replies, taking the proffered hand in a strong shake. "Guess you're my new girl, huh?"

"Yeah, she is." Mark says. "Now Blondie 2…" He adds, turning to the newest USA member. "How about you warm up a bit and then toss a few to Hahn. I want you two to get a feel for each other." Again, Arizona turns her gaze to the catcher and smiles. Erica sizes the smaller woman up, then nods. A blue mask comes down over those steel blue eyes and she heads to the plate. Arizona warms up a little bit, her shoulder having gone cold during the wait after her little photo shoot. Increasing speed and distance little by little, within five minutes the newcomer is ready to take her catcher for a spin.

Mark, having made his way down by his catcher so he can see what the pitcher looks like from the front, prepares for Arizona's first real pitch. Clear blue eyes beneath her sun visor narrow, and a look of calm settles over the newcomer, and with a large push off the rubber, Arizona flies forward and whips the ball around. With a loud SMACK, the yellow streak ends in the center of Hahn's catcher's mitt. Both Robbins and Sloan wait, preparing to hear something from the catcher… anything. Any words, comments, hell… by now Arizona would even take an insult over the silent treatment she seems to be getting. But nothing comes. Hahn just tosses the ball back and sets up for another pitch.

Furrowing her brow in consternation, Arizona sets up for another pitch and lets the ball fly. Leather meets leather again, the signal smack of ball against glove fills the air, but still the blonde haired and blue eyed catcher remains silent. The slight burn of her hand does little to soften the huge chip Hahn has on her shoulder toward the newcomer. Robbins, after all, has replaced the pitcher that Hahn spent nearly a year working with, getting their chemistry just right and practicing day in and day out with. All for what? For this new girl, this… this blonde to come in and take over? No, Erica Hahn doesn't like this, and she'll make damn sure everyone knows it, even Robbins herself.

"You two are good." The photographer says, waving Callie and Amelia away from the dirt. The Latina pulls off her mask, her jet black hair stuck to her forehead by the sweat she has produced from a long hour in the sun and suit, and tosses the ball back to her pitcher.

"Glad that's over." Callie growls, then chugs down some Gatorade.

"Yeah…" Amelia agrees, but her mind not on her catcher. Instead, the shorter brunette's attention is focused on the bull pen just down the length of fence. The smacking of ball against glove is floating from that direction, along with Marks telltale shouting and laughing.

"You uhhh… you good for a couple more?" The pitcher asks, turning to her catcher. Callie studies the shorter woman's face and sees a mixture of anxiety and stress. But then, who isn't anxious and nervous on this team. Hell, they are going for gold in as little as three months.

"Yeah, lets hit it." Callie says with a nod. She grabs her mask and the two women make their way through the rest of the team, all doing one thing or another to keep themselves busy during this unusually dull practice.

When Mark notices his other pair show up at the bull pen, he asks "What you two doing here?"

"Thought we would check out the new girl." Amelia answers in a joking tone, but Callie knows her pitcher well enough that she can tell its anything but a joke. It falls together then, and the Latina figures out that the little Shepard is fearful of losing her starting spot.

"Arizona Robbins." The newcomer says, popping a dimpled smile as she offers a dirtied hand to the other pitcher.

"Amelia Shepard." The brunette replies, taking the blondes hand. They share a handshake, one that lasts a little bit too long for Arizona's taste. She gets the feeling that this is some sort of intimidation tactic again, especially with the menacing glare the brunette is giving her. But again, the shorter blonde shakes it off because again… why would they be acting like this to her. It must just be the fact that she is the new kid again. She's been the new kid many times. Having a father in the Marines meant moving around every 12 to 14 months, going to 13 schools in the span of 18 years has given the blonde the ability to integrate readily. But someone how this place, this team… they are proving a challenge to the blonde.

Finally the brunette withdraws her hand, but not before giving it one more hard shake. Callie, sensing the awkwardness of the moment, jumps in "Callie Torres. Good to finally meet you, new girl." The Latina says, taking the smaller woman's warm hand in hers.

Something within Arizona pings, some little flag in her brain goes up, and she asks "Have we… have we met before?" Blue eyes search the woman's face, but she can't remember having seen it before. But still… there is something nagging at her. She knows she has seen those eyes before…

"Met? No." Callie answers with a smile and withdraws her hand. Blue eyes furrow at the odd response the Latina gave, but before Arizona can ask anything more Callie has already pulled her red catchers mask over her face and taken off to join Hahn at the far side of the bull pen.

"So Robbins, let's see what you got." Amelia says, taking the furthest of the three pitching runs. Now with four sets of eyes on her, Arizona takes a deep breath to steady her pulse, then keys in on the pitch.

"Rise ball. Q2." Mark says, wanting to see Arizona bring the ball up and into the high and inside corner of a righty batter. With a tight nod from the pitcher, signaling she has the pitch, Arizona pushes off the mound and lets the ball fly.

With a flurry, the ball shoots straight but just before the plate, the balls changes direction and starts to rise. Hahn catches it dead center of quadrant two with a smack. Had a batter been trying to hit that pitch they would have either popped it up for an easy fly or would have laid off it and ended up with a strike.

Amelia forces a neutral expression on her face even though her insides are twisting in anger. This is her year. There is no one else that deserves to share her mound, let alone this no-one blonde who came from God-knows where. But here she is. And she's good. Like… Amelia Shepard good. And what's worse is that this newcomer is perky. Amelia Shepard doesn't do perky. Which is another reason why Amelia Shepard doesn't do April Kepner. But Kepner isn't after the brunette's position, so the doe eyed redhead is of no threat… just very annoying. But this woman… this Arizona Robbins? She should be marked with a caution triangle.

"You just going to stand on my mound, Shepard? Or you going to get your ass in gear?" Sloan barks, drawing the shorter pitcher out of her dark daydreams. Flashing a fake smile at the blonde, Amelia turns to her own waiting catcher and lets a fastball fly. A smack matching the intensity of Arizona's fills the air, the burn of Callie's hand familiar and comforting.

Mark Sloan, lost in a haze of fastballs, change ups, riseballs, drop balls, and sliders, can't keep the smile off his face. He knew he struck the jackpot when he stumbled across Amelia Shepard, a Division I pitcher who was fresh out of college. But with Arizona Robbins? A girl who he hasn't been able to dig up any stats from anywhere, making her pretty much unknown to everyone… he's hit the lottery. Two pitchers of this skill level, with the drive and ambition to be the best… it makes a team's defense damn near unstoppable.

"Sloan!" A voice calls from the rest of field 1, making all five pairs of eyes snap to the dark man waving them over. "Bring em in!" Coach Webber adds, then turns back to the rest of the team.

"Alright ladies. Good first warm up." Sloan says. "Go join the rest of the girls." He adds, then claps each player on their shoulder as the four take off at a jog towards second base where everyone is circled around.

Once all 14 girls are back together, Arizona sliding into place next to the only one who has even been remotely civil towards her, Coach Webber looks them over and smiles. "You all make a good looking bunch." He plays, getting a laugh and smile out of his team. Admittedly they DO look pretty badass, all decked out in their state of the art and top of the line uniforms. "Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed your little vacation. …Because tomorrow we start pushing and we start early. Oh-six hundred. Wear your running shoes. You're doing Stadium."

At the last word, a collection of moans, eye rolls, and even a few let slip a curse word. Arizona's lost as to what this all means, but if the entire team is acting like this, she knows it can't be a good thing.

"Come on, Coach. Stadium? Really? !" Yang shoots out, Meredith Gray right next to her friend, sending the head coach a look that can kill.

"We ain't the fuckin track team Webber." King adds, her southern accent making her displeasure sound even more demanding.

"Clamp it down, ladies." Richard says over the din of disagreement. "6 am sharp, or you run it twice. Not that's it. Hit the showers, you all are stinking up my fields." With that, the team is dismissed. As the women start to filter off to the dugout to grab their bags, looks of discontent and overall hate are thrown to the Head Coach as well as the three other coaches surrounding the man.

"Grey, hang back for a second please." Shepard calls, and the skinny blonde is the last player left on the field as Arizona starts to pack up her bats and glove. Blue eyes scan the faces, looking for her roommate, but see's Teddy talking to the redheaded coach, Owen Hunt. Arizona notices the smile on her face, and the way her body is leaned into the man a little more than usual. A knowing smile crosses the newcomer's face. Arizona Robbins knows women, she knows what it looks like when a woman is flirting, and Teddy is definitely flirting with Hunt.

With a shake of her head, she slips on her sandals and starts to walk back to her apartment but when a voice calls out "Robbins!" she stops and turns. Teddy is running after her, her own bag thrown over her shoulder.

Once the taller blonde joins Arizona, the pitcher plays coy. "So… you and Hunt?" Arizona asks. The blonde can see Teddy trying to cover up the smile; she sends her own knowing smirk to the first baseman letting the woman know that there is no secret.

"Oh shut up." Teddy says with a shove. Arizona just laughs, mostly at the expense of her newest… and so far, only… friend.

"I think it's cute." The pitcher says offhandedly.

A blush forms across those high cheek bones, and Altman responses with "But there is no 'it'. He's a coach, I'm a player. Nothing can happen." When a furrowed brow of a blue eyed woman meets her gaze, Teddy continues "It's… team rule. No team romances. Goes for players and coaches alike."

"Really?" Arizona asks incredulously. Peeking over her shoulder, the blonde sees Grey standing a bit closer to Coach Shepard that would be deemed professional. "So… no one dates anyone else. No one sleeps with anyone else?"

"Well… they're not suppose to. It's in that contract we all sign. Not that it HASN'T happened. It's just that it shouldn't. …It's kind of like don't ask, don't tell. But…" Then the wheels start turning and the firstbase man cocks an eyebrow. "Why? Does Arizona Robbins have her eyes locked on a target? OH! Is it Sloan? I bet it's Sloan. It's always Sloan…" Teddy rambles, sticking her tongue out in disgust at the end.

With a laugh, Arizona shakes the question off. "No. No target here. And even if there WERE a target, Sloan would not even be on the playing field. My dog doesn't hunt that way…"

Teddy stops in her tracks, making Arizona stop and turn. "I just got lost in that metaphor." She says with a chuckle. "But… are you…"

"What?" Arizona asks, not understanding what Teddy is trying to say.

Stepping closer so that the last few women walking past them overhears, Teddy asks "Are you… Lebanese?"

"Teddy!" Arizona exclaims, shoving the taller woman back. The shorter blonde tries to keep her face that of shock, but the choice of Teddy's words force a smile to crack on the pitchers face.

"What? It's an honest question? …You said Sloan wasn't hunting, or swimming in the river, or on the court… whatever you said but you said it. And he's like… a living, breathing Adonis." Altman explains, seeing the way her newest teammate has started to fidget. "The only reason he wouldn't interest you was if you were, A, without a pulse. Or B, gay as a queer as a three dollar bill."

"What does that even mean? Three dollar bill?" Arizona rebuttals, now lost as to what conversation they were actually on.

"Robbins." Teddy barks, not letting her little roommate out of it.

"Yeah, I am. Ok?" Arizona answers, meeting the taller woman's stare. "That's not a problem, is it Altman?" She puffs out her chest and lifts her chin, trying to make herself as big as possible. Teddy just stares at her, and Arizona can feel that gaze start to chip at her walls, but the shorter woman holds firm.

Finally, after a tense minute, Teddy finally breaks out a smile and claps her friend on the arm. "No. No problem at all… new girl." The woman says, then wraps an arm around the pitcher neck and tugs them towards their apartment. "Come on, I'm pretty sure when Webber said we stunk… he really meant you." Arizona just growls and tries to break Altman's grip, but the first baseman has a couple inches on the pitcher and stays strong, laughing as the wrestle with each other.

"Do you see them?" Addison asks, peeking out the blinds of apartment 16.

"See who?" Callie asks, peeling off her jersey and tossing it into the team laundry bag.

"Derek. He's been talking to Grey a lot… don't you think?" The redhead says, moving to the other window in the living room. But even though they have a clear view of the fields, its still too far to be able to make anything out besides figures.

"He IS the batting coach. And she IS the worst batter on the team." Amelia says, throwing her own jersey into the bag. Addison just growls at her sister-in-law. Normally, they ARE sisters. Like close sisters, but for the past few months, Amelia has been… off. She's been cranky and edgy. But Addison, along with the rest of Team USA, put that to her being their first string pitcher and the huge weight of the upcoming Games on her shoulders. Everyone is feeling the pinch, and some just handle it better than others. Like Addison Montgomery. When she gets upset or stressed, she eats. Donuts, chocolate, muffins, big greasy cheeseburgers. Anything will do.

"Why are you worried, Red. He's your man… Derek isn't a cheater." Naomi tries to calm her long time friend, but even she herself doesn't believe it. Everyone on the team has felt it. The slight shift in their relationship. But again… everyone is attributing that to the stress of their lives right now. It's affecting everything.

"I don't know. There something about those two… the way he looks at her…" Addison sighs, then peels herself away from the window and towards her own bedroom. Naomi heads off towards her and Amelia's side of the apartment, stripping out of the scratchy and hot uniform as she goes. The shower on Callie's side of the apartment turns on, signaling Addison has started cleaning up, and not five seconds later Naomi hops into the other shower.

"So…" Amelia sighs, her and Callie being the only ones in the living room at this point.

"So?" Callie replies, moving around the room and tidying up as much as her tired body will allow. When the Latina finds a dirty dish under an empty box and brings it to her nose, a very pungent aroma fills her body and its all the catcher can do to keep the contents of her stomach where they are.

"What you think?" The brunette chances. The pitcher tries to keep her tone light and breezy, but the nagging in her gut and in fear in the back of her mind is strong.

"About what?" Torres asks, then finds the gaze of her pitcher and realizes what the woman is referring to. "New girl?" The Latina guesses, which gets a tight nod from the brunette. "She's… she's good." All that gets is a noncommittal shrug from the other woman, and continues "Shepard… try to get that stick out of your ass, alright? I'm not saying you have to like the woman, but she IS our new teammate and…. We are all here for the same reason. To win. Now… as great of a pitcher as you are, you can't take on the entire world by yourself." Brown eyes find brown eyes. Callie doesn't really have a good grasp on what Arizona Robbins brings to the table because the Latina has never seen her play. Sure… anyone can rock at a practice, but its an entirely different thing when you face a batter.

"Fucking Sloan couldn't keep that shit-eating grin off his face." Amelia growls. The itch has returned and now her mood is turning real foul REAL quick. Pushing up off the sofa, she heads towards the far side of the apartment and down her and Naomi's hallway. Stopping in her tracks, she turns back to her catcher and points a threatening finger at the Latina. "You and I are going to take this team to gold, CT. I'll be damned if that…. That NO ONE takes our spot." With that, the little drama queen stomps off and into her room, slamming the door behind her.

The Latina just rolls her eyes and tells herself that the pressure is getting to everyone. Counting the days to the Opening Ceremony, the butterflies that have long since been dormant have started to flutter. Callie Torres doesn't get nervous. She's badass, a rock star. She's faced some of the best players in the world and have come out ahead. It's all about the drive and determination. It's about how far you are willing to push yourself, when to call it a day and when to go one more round, one more pitch, one more lap.

When the water from her and Addison's shower shuts off, Callie leaves the last few dirty dishes sit and decides to wash the sweat and dirt off her sore body. After the long night last night, the only thing the Latina is going to be doing tonight is sleep… and hard. Because, after all, she has to run Stadium tomorrow, bright and early.

AN2: Alright… so anyone got any ideas what's happening behind it all? Will Erica and Arizona pan out? What about Amelia and Callie? Will that team last? Any thoughts about the inter-team drama that may flare up? So many possibilities…

AN3: Also need a little feedback. What kind of length would you prefer a chapter? Now its about 5k per upload, but I don't like it when there is a lot of jumping of time and scenarios within the same chapter. I find it doesn't flow too nicely. So just let me know what you think… thanks!