No Comment (3/?)
Title: No Comment (3/?)
Author: Chwitchety
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Dont own it. Dont profit from it.
Summary: Callie is a news reporter. AZ is a lawyer working a major case. Callie is onto something...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“Torres!”
Callie glanced over towards the bar, where her name had been called, and saw Mark Sloan perched on one of the stools, beckoning with his hand that there was a seat free next to him. Grateful to spot her fellow reporter and best friend, she made her way through the packed crowd.
“Hey.” Callie sat down on the proffered stool.
“What are you drinking? I’m buying.”
Callie looked down at Mark’s bottle of beer and nodded. “Pale is fine.” Mark signaled to the barkeep.
“So did you get in?”
Callie shook her head. “No-one did. Judge got fed up with folks sneaking photos and kicked the press out. Only the select few got in.”
Mark raised his eyebrows at Callie’s sing-song overemphasis on the words ‘select-few’. “The Times?”
Callie shrugged dejectedly and took a swig from her bottle. “Those upper echelons of society that tell us how to think, yes.” Mark hummed, knowingly. “Typical.”
Callie began to feel better about the day. After the fiasco of trying to get a quote when the Prosecution Team arrived, the attempt to get a quote from David Cross hadn’t gone all that much better. He had simply marched directly into the Courthouse and if Cristina hadn’t been as sharp as she was, they might not have even got any footage.
Then Justice Bailey took point and kicked out all excess press from her courtroom, which left Callie and Cristina with barely anything to do for 7 hours other than hang out waiting for updates. Callie got on well with Cristina - they saw eye to eye on most things and were too laid back about anything that wasn’t work or love to give a shit - but still. Hanging out with nothing to do for 7 hours wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time. And Cristina’s incessant need for effective time spent at work had been beginning to grate on Callie’s nerves.
When the case finally broke off for the evening and the Prosecution and Defense exited, no exclusive interviews were forthcoming. There were only generic comments from Chief Barrister Webber about ‘duty’ and his intentions of ‘truth and justice’ and David Cross’ lawyer, Isobel Stevens, claiming, well, exactly the same thing.
It had been disappointing to say the least. During the trial, the case had broken open when evidence from David Cross came in the form of a mobile phone recording. The man had recorded the conversation regarding his contract where it could be clearly heard that Cross asked if the clause of marriage-approved-health-care-insurance applied to his civil union. The resounding affirmative he received was the smoking gun - a valid verbal agreement. Stevens had pushed the angle that had Cross brought an action on this basis, he would have won. But the time it would take to bring suit would have been a death knell for partner John. The urgency of the needed cancer surgery and utter hypocrisy of the Government had pushed David Cross into a corner and according to Stevens, to put it bluntly, man-slaughter had been narrowly avoided, in her opinion. Suddenly, the Prosecution had found itself flipped to become the Defense.
Well.
Callie had tried to catch the eye of Arizona Robbins, but the mad furor she strode through to reach her waiting car built an impenetrable barrier.
And that was it. It was days like these she wondered why she had ever got into journalism in the first place. Having already spent the entire day with Cristina, Callie couldn’t face going back to their shared apartment and spending the entire evening with her too. Mark’s text had been a welcome invitation.
“So what about you? Did you get anything?”
Mark smirked.
“Define ‘get anything’.”
Callie rolled her eyes at his connotation. “Yes, Mark, I sure do hope you got herpes today. What did you get on camera?” Callie tried to clarify.
Mark began to grin.
“On camera?”
Callie began to laugh as she realized his implication. “Shut up you big dope and answer my question.” Mark eyes twinkled as he knocked back another draught of beer, before shaking his head. “No, same as everybody else - they weren’t giving us anything.”
Callie pursed her lips in distaste, thinking back on the day. “I know, right. It was a massive waste of my time.”
Mark looked over at her, curious. “Got somewhere to be, Torres?”
Callie sighed and inclined her head in acknowledgement. “No,” she drew it out, “but I could have, I don’t know, gone for a run - or eaten my body weight in chocolate - whatever. Just stuff.”
Mark was still watching her, intrigued.
“You got something going on?”
“No.”
“You’re seeing someone aren’t you?”
Callie’s tone was monotonous as she stared blankly at the bottles behind the bar. “No, Mark.” He leaned in closer.
“Is it a girl?”
That caused a reaction. Callie almost spit out the swallow of liquid in her mouth and looked around quickly to see if anyone had heard the question.
“No, I said no, Mark. I’m not seeing anyone and as someone working in television I don’t appreciate talking about my private life in public places, alright? You never know who is listening.”
Mark held up his hands in surrender at the suddenly intense woman before him. “Hey, I hear you. Loud and queer…clear. Loud and clear, I said.” He added, seeing Callie’s daggered look. “Loud and clear, Cal.” Callie shook her head in disbelief and took another swig from her bottle. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother.”
“It’s because…” Mark’s voice died down and Callie turned to see why. Realizing he was watching the bar television, she saw TBC News anchorman Derek Shepherd introducing the latest headlines. Gesturing to catch the attention of the barkeep, she jerked her eyes towards the flat screen “Can you turn that up?”
Derek’s voice became audible. “…by new evidence today that Cross had a recorded meeting on his mobile phone where a verbal agreement was made to cover the health insurance of his partner, John Hillbank. Mr Webber, for the Prosecution, had this to say on the matter.” There was a cut to a clip of the morning’s videobite from Webber, Arizona Robbins standing to his right.
About halfway through the speech, Callie heard a soft, but wary, ‘woah’ emit from Mark. She looked around at him inquisitively as the clip ended. “What?”
Mark tore his eyes away from the television. “Man, Robbins definitely does not like Webber.”
Callie glanced back to the screen, but Derek had moved onto the next news segment - an arson attack. She looked back at Mark. “What do you mean? How can you tell?”
He cocked his head and looked at her patronizingly. “Callie, a guy doesn’t hit a score rate like me unless he knows when to cut his losses. I know when I’m out. And right there,” he jerked his head towards the screen and pointed with the neck of his beer bottle, “Webber is out.”
Callie paused thoughtfully. “Robbins doesn’t like him?”
Mark nodded. “I don’t know if it’s him or what he said, but Robbins was not giving off good vibes by my book.”
Callie looked back up at the television. They were showing the sports report. “Looks like the Nicks are doing well.” She grinned as Mark collapsed his head in abject horror onto his arms resting on the bar. “Callie, do you even know what sport the Nicks play?”
“Base-” her winning smile dwindled and she narrowed her eyes hopefully, “-ketball?”
Mark gave a muffled groan.
But Callie’s interest was piqued. Making small talk with Mark as they teased each other and drank, she felt fixated on pinpointing why Mark thought Arizona Robbins didn’t like Webber. The journalist in her could feel the beginnings of a story and she didn’t want Mark to catch on. She made excuses and left early at ten so she could make it home in time to catch and record the 11 o’clock news.
Entering the apartment, Cristina had obviously had the same idea as Callie to spend some time apart and had made herself scarce. Probably at Meredith’s house again, thought Callie as she flopped down onto the sofa and dug between the cushions for the remote. Clicking onto TBC News, she was in luck as they played the clip a second time, which Callie promptly recorded.
At first, she didn’t see it. Arizona was standing to the right of Webber and slightly behind him looking both professional and nonchalant at the same time. Callie pressed rewind and watched again.
Bingo. There it was.
Arizona wasn’t looking at Webber, rather staring straight ahead, which was nothing out of the ordinary in itself, but…
As Webber waxed poetic about his values of truth and justice, Callie could see what Mark was talking about. When Webber mentioned how he acted ‘regardless of personal circumstance’, Arizona’s eyes dropped. At the phrase ‘rash choice’ Arizona’s eye twitched. It was subtle but, dagnamit, if it didn’t twitch. Callie re-watched another three times just to make sure.
It was still there.
During her viewing, Callie had slid forward to the edge of the couch and was leaning forward intently. Pausing the recording, she sat back and rested her head against the plump cushions.
So, Arizona Robbins didn’t like Webber.
Callie pondered.
Maybe she didn’t like the guy, but - no - it seemed more like see didn’t agree with what he was saying. She didn’t agree with the case? She was sympathetic to David Cross, maybe, but then why was she working the case?
Perhaps, the unsolicited thought came to Callie, Arizona Robbins could be, potentially…
She raised her hand to her jaw and placed her index finger across her mouth, tapping gently. Deciding.
Whatever it was, Callie Torres, TBC Current Affairs reporter, was going to figure it out.
First things first, she was going to get the footage shot this morning from Cristina. Everything was beginning to make sense in an entirely different light.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Thanks peeps for reading.
Author: Chwitchety
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Dont own it. Dont profit from it.
Summary: Callie is a news reporter. AZ is a lawyer working a major case. Callie is onto something...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“Torres!”
Callie glanced over towards the bar, where her name had been called, and saw Mark Sloan perched on one of the stools, beckoning with his hand that there was a seat free next to him. Grateful to spot her fellow reporter and best friend, she made her way through the packed crowd.
“Hey.” Callie sat down on the proffered stool.
“What are you drinking? I’m buying.”
Callie looked down at Mark’s bottle of beer and nodded. “Pale is fine.” Mark signaled to the barkeep.
“So did you get in?”
Callie shook her head. “No-one did. Judge got fed up with folks sneaking photos and kicked the press out. Only the select few got in.”
Mark raised his eyebrows at Callie’s sing-song overemphasis on the words ‘select-few’. “The Times?”
Callie shrugged dejectedly and took a swig from her bottle. “Those upper echelons of society that tell us how to think, yes.” Mark hummed, knowingly. “Typical.”
Callie began to feel better about the day. After the fiasco of trying to get a quote when the Prosecution Team arrived, the attempt to get a quote from David Cross hadn’t gone all that much better. He had simply marched directly into the Courthouse and if Cristina hadn’t been as sharp as she was, they might not have even got any footage.
Then Justice Bailey took point and kicked out all excess press from her courtroom, which left Callie and Cristina with barely anything to do for 7 hours other than hang out waiting for updates. Callie got on well with Cristina - they saw eye to eye on most things and were too laid back about anything that wasn’t work or love to give a shit - but still. Hanging out with nothing to do for 7 hours wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time. And Cristina’s incessant need for effective time spent at work had been beginning to grate on Callie’s nerves.
When the case finally broke off for the evening and the Prosecution and Defense exited, no exclusive interviews were forthcoming. There were only generic comments from Chief Barrister Webber about ‘duty’ and his intentions of ‘truth and justice’ and David Cross’ lawyer, Isobel Stevens, claiming, well, exactly the same thing.
It had been disappointing to say the least. During the trial, the case had broken open when evidence from David Cross came in the form of a mobile phone recording. The man had recorded the conversation regarding his contract where it could be clearly heard that Cross asked if the clause of marriage-approved-health-care-insurance applied to his civil union. The resounding affirmative he received was the smoking gun - a valid verbal agreement. Stevens had pushed the angle that had Cross brought an action on this basis, he would have won. But the time it would take to bring suit would have been a death knell for partner John. The urgency of the needed cancer surgery and utter hypocrisy of the Government had pushed David Cross into a corner and according to Stevens, to put it bluntly, man-slaughter had been narrowly avoided, in her opinion. Suddenly, the Prosecution had found itself flipped to become the Defense.
Well.
Callie had tried to catch the eye of Arizona Robbins, but the mad furor she strode through to reach her waiting car built an impenetrable barrier.
And that was it. It was days like these she wondered why she had ever got into journalism in the first place. Having already spent the entire day with Cristina, Callie couldn’t face going back to their shared apartment and spending the entire evening with her too. Mark’s text had been a welcome invitation.
“So what about you? Did you get anything?”
Mark smirked.
“Define ‘get anything’.”
Callie rolled her eyes at his connotation. “Yes, Mark, I sure do hope you got herpes today. What did you get on camera?” Callie tried to clarify.
Mark began to grin.
“On camera?”
Callie began to laugh as she realized his implication. “Shut up you big dope and answer my question.” Mark eyes twinkled as he knocked back another draught of beer, before shaking his head. “No, same as everybody else - they weren’t giving us anything.”
Callie pursed her lips in distaste, thinking back on the day. “I know, right. It was a massive waste of my time.”
Mark looked over at her, curious. “Got somewhere to be, Torres?”
Callie sighed and inclined her head in acknowledgement. “No,” she drew it out, “but I could have, I don’t know, gone for a run - or eaten my body weight in chocolate - whatever. Just stuff.”
Mark was still watching her, intrigued.
“You got something going on?”
“No.”
“You’re seeing someone aren’t you?”
Callie’s tone was monotonous as she stared blankly at the bottles behind the bar. “No, Mark.” He leaned in closer.
“Is it a girl?”
That caused a reaction. Callie almost spit out the swallow of liquid in her mouth and looked around quickly to see if anyone had heard the question.
“No, I said no, Mark. I’m not seeing anyone and as someone working in television I don’t appreciate talking about my private life in public places, alright? You never know who is listening.”
Mark held up his hands in surrender at the suddenly intense woman before him. “Hey, I hear you. Loud and queer…clear. Loud and clear, I said.” He added, seeing Callie’s daggered look. “Loud and clear, Cal.” Callie shook her head in disbelief and took another swig from her bottle. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother.”
“It’s because…” Mark’s voice died down and Callie turned to see why. Realizing he was watching the bar television, she saw TBC News anchorman Derek Shepherd introducing the latest headlines. Gesturing to catch the attention of the barkeep, she jerked her eyes towards the flat screen “Can you turn that up?”
Derek’s voice became audible. “…by new evidence today that Cross had a recorded meeting on his mobile phone where a verbal agreement was made to cover the health insurance of his partner, John Hillbank. Mr Webber, for the Prosecution, had this to say on the matter.” There was a cut to a clip of the morning’s videobite from Webber, Arizona Robbins standing to his right.
About halfway through the speech, Callie heard a soft, but wary, ‘woah’ emit from Mark. She looked around at him inquisitively as the clip ended. “What?”
Mark tore his eyes away from the television. “Man, Robbins definitely does not like Webber.”
Callie glanced back to the screen, but Derek had moved onto the next news segment - an arson attack. She looked back at Mark. “What do you mean? How can you tell?”
He cocked his head and looked at her patronizingly. “Callie, a guy doesn’t hit a score rate like me unless he knows when to cut his losses. I know when I’m out. And right there,” he jerked his head towards the screen and pointed with the neck of his beer bottle, “Webber is out.”
Callie paused thoughtfully. “Robbins doesn’t like him?”
Mark nodded. “I don’t know if it’s him or what he said, but Robbins was not giving off good vibes by my book.”
Callie looked back up at the television. They were showing the sports report. “Looks like the Nicks are doing well.” She grinned as Mark collapsed his head in abject horror onto his arms resting on the bar. “Callie, do you even know what sport the Nicks play?”
“Base-” her winning smile dwindled and she narrowed her eyes hopefully, “-ketball?”
Mark gave a muffled groan.
But Callie’s interest was piqued. Making small talk with Mark as they teased each other and drank, she felt fixated on pinpointing why Mark thought Arizona Robbins didn’t like Webber. The journalist in her could feel the beginnings of a story and she didn’t want Mark to catch on. She made excuses and left early at ten so she could make it home in time to catch and record the 11 o’clock news.
Entering the apartment, Cristina had obviously had the same idea as Callie to spend some time apart and had made herself scarce. Probably at Meredith’s house again, thought Callie as she flopped down onto the sofa and dug between the cushions for the remote. Clicking onto TBC News, she was in luck as they played the clip a second time, which Callie promptly recorded.
At first, she didn’t see it. Arizona was standing to the right of Webber and slightly behind him looking both professional and nonchalant at the same time. Callie pressed rewind and watched again.
Bingo. There it was.
Arizona wasn’t looking at Webber, rather staring straight ahead, which was nothing out of the ordinary in itself, but…
As Webber waxed poetic about his values of truth and justice, Callie could see what Mark was talking about. When Webber mentioned how he acted ‘regardless of personal circumstance’, Arizona’s eyes dropped. At the phrase ‘rash choice’ Arizona’s eye twitched. It was subtle but, dagnamit, if it didn’t twitch. Callie re-watched another three times just to make sure.
It was still there.
During her viewing, Callie had slid forward to the edge of the couch and was leaning forward intently. Pausing the recording, she sat back and rested her head against the plump cushions.
So, Arizona Robbins didn’t like Webber.
Callie pondered.
Maybe she didn’t like the guy, but - no - it seemed more like see didn’t agree with what he was saying. She didn’t agree with the case? She was sympathetic to David Cross, maybe, but then why was she working the case?
Perhaps, the unsolicited thought came to Callie, Arizona Robbins could be, potentially…
She raised her hand to her jaw and placed her index finger across her mouth, tapping gently. Deciding.
Whatever it was, Callie Torres, TBC Current Affairs reporter, was going to figure it out.
First things first, she was going to get the footage shot this morning from Cristina. Everything was beginning to make sense in an entirely different light.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Thanks peeps for reading.