After a minute of poking around online, Cristina finds a comfortable-looking bar nearby. They walk for fifteen minutes through the small town, pausing their discussion of the day's talks only to point out kitschy-looking cafes and souvenir shops.

The bar is cozy, not too crowded. They find a small table in the corner and put their things down. Again Erica offers to get the drinks, and asks Cristina what she wants.

What Cristina wants is three shots of tequila.

Instead she says, "Whatever you're having."

Erica raises her eyebrows at her but doesn't comment. She returns after a few minutes with two glasses of whiskey. They talk about work, then television, and Cristina wonders if this is what it would be like to be with her–sitting across from her and laughing, basking in the warmth of her glowing eyes.

At a lull in the conversation, Cristina says, "So–you swim?"

Erica fiddles with her napkin, looking shy, which is so un-Hahn-like that Cristina wants to giggle. She holds it in, though, and after a moment Erica says, "Yeah."

"Like, every day?"

"Most days."

"For how long?"

"Since I was a kid," Erica says. "It's, uh. The reason I could go to college."

Cristina gapes at her. "You mean you went to school on an athletic scholarship?"

"Yup."

"How did I not know you were a jock?"

Erica smirks. "Why would you?"

"That is…wow," Cristina says. "You had a varsity jacket and everything, didn't you."

"What's the point of being a varsity athlete without one?"

Cristina wants to tease her, she really does, but all she can think about is how absurdly hot she must have been–muscular and nerdy, awkward and arrogant in equal measure. God, she would've been crazy about her.

God, I think I'm crazy about you.

She gulps the rest of her whiskey down to chase the thought away, then says, "One of these days you should bet Sloan a hundred bucks that you can beat him at arm-wrestling. He'll probably cry when he loses."

Erica laughs, downing her whiskey too. "Do you want another?" she asks, standing.

"Yeah," Cristina says, getting to her feet as well. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom first."

After she pees and washes her hands, she splashes cold water on her face and looks at herself in the mirror.

Then she texts Meredith, I think I'm on a date with Erica.

Meredith responds immediately. You're not sure?

No

Why not

I just asked if she wanted to get a drink, like in a normal way

And this could be normal but it feels different

She hesitates. Then adds:

Maybe I want it to be different

The dots appear and disappear. Cristina pictures Meredith rolling her eyes, and can't blame her. She's rolling her eyes at herself, too.

Finally, Meredith answers: You know you're going to have to make the first move, right?

Cristina catches her breath. If she's honest with herself, she hadn't even thought about it–but it's so overwhelmingly true that she can't believe it didn't occur to her before.

Erica is annoyingly obsessed with rules. Of course she isn't going to initiate something with a subordinate. Of course Cristina is going to have to seduce her. Goddammit.

Except, well. The idea of seducing Erica is suddenly very appealing.

Cristina considers the miscellaneous ways of teasing her, of slowly drawing her out and making her show her hand. But they're both blunt and direct, and they've always liked that about each other, even when they didn't like each other.

Even if their relationship changes, she doesn't want that to be different.

She smooths down her hair, then dishevels it again. She sticks her phone in her back pocket, walks out of the bathroom, and sits down across from Erica.

"Hey," Cristina says. "Is, uh–is this a date?"

Erica looks stunned, and also panicked, like she's been caught doing something wrong. Her lips part, but nothing comes out.

"To be clear–I'd like this to be a date," Cristina says matter-of-factly. "If that's okay with you."

Something in Erica's face softens, but doesn't ease entirely. She looks down at her hands, then at the drinks sitting between them.

"I'm your boss," she says quietly. "Even if–it's not appropriate."

"Even if what?"

Erica swallows. Then she lifts her chin and looks Cristina in the eye.

"Even if I would also like for this to be a date," she says.

Cristina smiles, warmth flooding her stomach, and takes a sip of her whiskey. She has to take a moment to compose herself, because Erica wants to go on a date with her, and the impulsive part of her just wants to move the table out of the way, sit in Erica's lap and kiss her more, a lot more, and deeper and wetter and dirtier.

Wants to find out how far down that blush goes.

But Erica apparently needs this cleared up before there's going to be any more kissing. So.

"Okay, first of all," she says, leaning back in her chair. "We both know the boss thing has never stopped anyone at Seattle Grace before, so I admire your professionalism, but I really doubt anyone would care. Second of all, I'm not a resident anymore. You're the head of my department, but I'm not exactly dependent on you; I have my own amazing career, you know?

"And third—" Cristina pauses to sip her whiskey again, resisting the urge to down the whole thing "—if it really bothers you, you could just ask the chief to supervise my work instead. He's going to be more conservative about surgeries than you are, though, so I don't think you'd like that. Maybe ask Bailey if she can supervise my work, and have Teddy on speed dial to consult if we're getting really technical? Neither of them would hesitate to tell us if we're being stupid."

Erica looks stunned all over again.

"What?" Cristina asks, and Erica ducks her head, then looks back up at her.

"Did you–" she starts, then clears her throat. "You thought about this?"

"About dating you?" Cristina asks. "Yes. The thing about supervision, I just came up with that, but I'm pretty sure it would work. I definitely have thought a lot about dating you, though, yes."

Erica smiles, a shy, pleased quirk of her lips.

"I can text Miranda about it later, but I, uh–think that might work too," she says.

"So…" Cristina prompts.

"So–yes, a date sounds good," Erica says, and blushes.

"Cool," Cristina says. "Do you want to get something to eat?"

They find an Indian restaurant down the street, but the place is noisy and doesn't serve alcohol, so they decide to get takeout and eat in their room with Cristina's stolen beer.

The food gets abandoned pretty quickly, though, because as soon as Cristina shuts the door behind them, her focus narrows to Erica's lips and Erica's lips only. Ironically, though, she can't hear anything Erica is saying.

Slowly, Cristina walks over to where Erica is arranging the food and beers on the table. She wants to wait until she's finished speaking, but honestly? Patience has never been her strong suit.

"Erica," she interrupts gently, once they're just a few feet apart.

"Hmm?" Erica turns, smiling, because Erica smiles at her now, because Erica likes her.

Cristina steps into her space slowly, giving her the chance to move away. But Erica just gazes down at her with soft eyes, and she reaches out and places her hand on Erica's stomach, feeling the solid core beneath the fabric.

Then she fists her hand in Erica's shirt and pulls her in, boosting herself up on her toes at the same time. Erica leans down to meet her, one hand coming up to cup her cheek.

They kiss slow and gentle for a while, and it's like Cristina is floating, Erica's lips her only anchor.

Until Cristina takes a breath, traces Erica's mouth with her tongue, and Erica sighs. Cristina wraps her arms around her neck, and Erica's hands come to rest on her hips–and then they're pressed fully against each other.

She slips her tongue into Erica's mouth and Erica sucks on it lightly, tugging her closer at the same time.

Suddenly, Cristina's stomach is full of heat.

She pushes at Erica's shoulders gently, breaking the kiss only to steer her toward the couch. Erica lets herself be moved, sitting obediently when the cushions bump into her legs, and smiling up at her shyly.

Cristina straddles her and tangles her hands in her hair, kissing her fiercely. Erica moans into her mouth and kisses her back just as hard, and oh, Erica's lips are warm and skillful, her tongue sliding sweetly against Cristina's while she explores her sides and back with light strokes of her fingers.

Cristina slides her hands back up over Erica's defined biceps and shoulders, then fists her hands in her hair and pulls until Erica tips her head back so she can trail kisses across her jaw. She licks down her neck, sucking roughly at her pulse while Erica moans raggedly–the whole time teasing under Erica's blouse with her fingertips, tracing circles over her stomach.

When her mouth reaches Erica's collar, Cristina pulls her hands and mouth away from Erica's soft skin with some difficulty, and waits until Erica looks up at her through fluttering eyelashes, her cheeks all flushed. Then she pulls off her own shirt.

Once again, Erica looks stunned, though Cristina is pleased to note that this time the expression is quickly overtaken by clear desire. She feels a little self-conscious about her plain black bra, but at least it has a front clasp.

"Oh," Erica breathes out. "You're so beautiful."

She traces her hands over Cristina's hips, then up her stomach, and settles them just below her breasts.

"May I?" Erica says, looking up at her.

"God, please," Cristina says, her voice high and needy. Erica smiles and kisses her gently on the mouth, then unclasps her bra with one hand and pushes the straps off her shoulder, tossing it to the floor. She cups one breast tenderly and licks down the other one, tracing around the areola but not touching it.

For a few long moments Erica teases her with kitten licks, then she sucks a hickey onto each breast. Just when Cristina is about to grab her hair again and put her mouth where she needs it, Erica finally wraps her lips around a nipple and sucks. She flicks her tongue against the small bud, scratching her nails over the other nipple at the same time, and then switches.

Cristina whines, holding onto her strong shoulders and pushing her chest into Erica's touch. Erica works her mouth over her breasts, occasionally looking up at her and smiling.

Then she grabs a handful of Cristina's ass and squeezes hard, tweaking a nipple with the other hand at the same time–and just like that, Cristina is soaking wet and desperate, her knees tightening around Erica's waist, her hips rolling forward of their own accord.

"Fuck," she whimpers against Erica's mouth, feels her chuckle.

"Feels good, huh?" Erica rasps, and god, Cristina really could come just grinding against her like this, but that's way too much, too soon.

So instead Cristina tugs on Erica's hair again, pulling her head up and kissing her soundly, and goes for her collar.

Erica keeps both hands on her breasts, tugging at her nipples just enough to distract her, while Cristina unbuttons her shirt with shaky hands. Finally she pulls it open, and is delightfully surprised by the lacy, sky-blue bra.

"So, so pretty," Cristina says, staring unabashedly, hungrily. "So…so pretty, wow…"

She traces her fingers along the edges of the lace, feeling Erica shiver beneath her. Then she palms her breasts, cups them and squeezes, and Erica groans.

"Lie down," Cristina murmurs, reluctantly releasing her and scooting back to give her space.

"Just so you know, I won't always let you be in charge," Erica warns, even as she does as told. Cristina grins and settles herself between Erica's legs, helping her adjust the pillows behind her.

"Huh. Are you sure? I think I like you like this," Cristina says, pressing up to kiss her soft mouth, then nibbling at her collarbone.

"Yeah, well. You'll like having me on top, too," Erica says, somehow managing to smirk and blush at the same time.

"Mmm," Cristina agrees, sucking a bright mark onto her chest, then looking at it with satisfaction. "I look forward to it."

Then she slides down and finally, finally gets her mouth on her boobs. She keeps massaging them with her hands while she teases at the rosy nipples through the lace, licking around them and nibbling gently at the edges, totally awed by the way Erica sighs and whines and arches her back.

Eventually, Cristina gives in and reaches underneath Erica to unclasp her bra and throw it on the floor. She mouths kisses all over heavy breasts, teasing her just like Erica had teased her, then lavishes attention on her nipples. Erica tangles a hand in her hair and holds her there while she moans, and god, Cristina can't wait for her to hold her head the exact same way when she puts her mouth between her legs.

They spend a long time touching and kissing, hands and mouths and bare breasts rubbing together. It's unrushed, decadent, delicious. Feels like they have years to make up for, and Cristina is eager and ready to do just that.

Eventually, when Cristina is tracing her fingers just inside Erica's pants, feeling a hint of something lacy, Erica groans. Then she gently moves Cristina's hand away.

"I'm, uh–not ready for anything else tonight," she says, looking like she half-regrets her own words.

"That's okay, baby," Cristina murmurs, kissing her neck gently. "This is nice."

Erica smiles. "I like it when you call me baby," she says quietly.

Cristina kisses up to her jaw, then kisses her soft lips.

"Good," she breathes into her mouth. "'Cause I like calling you baby. Baby."

They untangle themselves slowly, with more kisses and teasing touches, then change into their pajamas and eat.

After clearing up, they flip a movie on the television and crawl into bed, where they don't watch the movie at all. Instead, they make out and talk and laugh, and make out some more.