Best Served Cold 1/1
Title: Best Served Cold
Author: Rachel
Pairing: Erica/Arizona, some Callie/Erica, Mark/Callie and Callie/Arizona.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Rating - NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, will never be mine, though if anyone has a spare Sara Ramirez hanging around, I'll more than gladly take her. I don't own any characters herein, and I will return them (mostly) unharmed once I'm done playing. I am making no money from writing these stories. As a non-profit interpretation of the original work, this constitutes fair use under USC 17.107.
Summary: The Seattle Grace - Mercy West merger brings about more changes than anyone expected.
Words: 9235
Notes:For 'film/photography' on my kink_bingo card. Card here (all completed squares link to the relevant story). Unbetad.
Note 2: Finally, real revenge, I think. It only took a year to get here, but I did eventually do it. \0/ feels appropriately inappropriate, let's go with that. \0/
Best Served Cold
Positioning the camera carefully, Erica knew she was entering the most difficult part of her plan. Arizona seemed soft, but she was difficult to sway once her mind was made up, and she knew the other blonde had long ago decided that she would try to minimize the hurt she caused Callie, though the Latina seemingly had no such plans. In the typical Callie way of trying to please everyone without talking to anyone, eventually failing everyone, the orthopedic surgeon had insisted on remaining 'friends' with Arizona, even as she retreated back to Mark, the safe, but imperfect option. Not even Erica's slowly growing bond with Arizona had kept Callie away, which meant Erica was thrown into contact with the woman she never wanted to speak to again far more often than she was willing to tolerate. It was definitely times for something to be done.
Erica just hoped that she could pull off the delicate balancing act of emotion that would be required. She needed to get Arizona just angry enough, yet stay away from indulging her own anger. The payoff would be worth it.
Eyes on the prize, she slipped from the room.
*
Erica hadn't fallen into this thing with Arizona with a purpose in mind. When Seattle Grace had merged with Mercy West, the blonde was disappointed, but had imagined she'd have few dealings with her former colleagues. And she'd felt safe that Callie wouldn't see her name and come find her, since the other woman had never even called after the argument in the parking lot that had ended up being the end of the end. Erica hadn't ever felt like leaving her apartment might be needed, and since Callie had certainly not shown up to beg forgiveness, the blonde had been proven right. For the first six months, she'd so badly wished to be wrong.
Then... she'd walked into surgery one day to find that Callie Torres was the surgeon she'd been paged to help. In the walls of the hospital that was supposed to be another shield from the turning point in her personal history that Callie had been. The startled moment of realization Erica had just experienced was reflected back at her in eyes that had once seemed so warm and heavily intoxicating as she stepped into view. Now though, the blonde wasn't sure how she felt... just that she was so tired of Callie's continuing presence in her life, as though there was a design Erica were trying to run away from and fate kept pushing them back together.
Fate was clearly underestimating the willpower of Erica Hahn.
Erica wasn't sure if it was shock, shame or just more proof that they never knew each other at all, but Callie didn't even try to initiate conversation in the OR. They'd moved fluidly with one another, mentioning only the words that were necessary to save the life over which they held temporary custody.
It was in the scrub room after the surgery that Erica lost her temper.
They had been standing in uncomfortable silence at the sink, hands on autopilot as they went through the familiar routine of scrubbing out when Callie had broken it. “So this is where you were all this time?”
Her tone was accusatory, and Erica bristled. “Excuse me?”
“I'm just saying, it would have been nice to know you weren't dead.”
Erica rolled her eyes. “Because you looked so hard for me that you couldn't remember my number?”
Callie stared at her, apparently not having expected to be met with Dr Hahn instead of the Erica she had always known.
Erica took the chance to leave before she started yelling. She was sure half of Seattle Grace knew intimate details of her life; she didn't need Mercy West to start talking about her too.
She had to find a way to get Callie back to the hospital she belonged in, to erase the brunette from her life once more.
*
On her way to negotiate with the Chief she'd thought she'd banished from her career with a simple move across town, Erica met Arizona. The too-familiar hallways of Seattle Grace had been empty as the older woman approached Webber's office, until the perky blonde appeared around a corner without warning. There was a bounce in her step that had seen Erica shy away for a second, but as she looked up from the floor at Arizona's “Can I help you?” she'd found herself oddly captivated by the light in blue eyes, the brightness of a wide smile and dimples that settled in rosy cheeks. She had a sense of looking through a fun-house mirror, like they were two sides of the same coin and with a different spread of cards, they could easily have become one another. It was weird; a sinking kind of high.
Shaking off the strange feeling, Erica gathered together all of her composure, ignoring the nagging sense that the woman before her was someone she might like to get to know. “I'm just here to see Richard.”
“Oh. You're friends with the Chief?”
Erica inwardly chuckled at the absurdity of the idea of she and Webber as anything more than antagonistic colleagues after what had passed between them. Holding out her hand, she waited for the woman to take it. During the brisk, surprisingly strong handshake, Erica began, “I'm Erica Hahn. I work at Mercy West. Which, apparently, makes me one of Richard's employees. Again.”
The acknowledgment of the unpleasant fact tasted bitter on the tail of her words, but not as much as the shadow that crossed the other woman's face, the apparent rescinding of the blonde's welcome in the way her body language tightened, the clipped, “Arizona Robbins. I... have to go.”
Erica frowned, watching Arizona flee as though someone were chasing her, wondering which of her former - current - colleagues had the blonde's loyalty. Murmuring, “Should I be pleased they remember me?” under her breath, Erica brushed off the strange encounter, steeling herself for a discussion that would almost inevitably end with she and her incredibly incompetent, impossible to shake boss screaming at one another over his desk.
*
Her meeting had been less than satisfactory. Callie's transfer from Seattle Grace had been voluntary, if apparently accompanied by yelling. Erica couldn't really blame her with Richard's almost sheepish confession that he had been unwilling to promote Callie to attending, despite the uncommonly high score the Latina had achieved in her final exams if Richard was being truthful, and the way Erica knew the younger woman had been preferred to the head of Ortho whenever any of the other surgeons needed a consult. In fact, Erica was certain that she'd barely ever as much as seen another doctor from Callie's department. But understanding Callie's decision didn't mean that she wasn't mad about it, and she'd let Webber know as much. By the end of their conversation though, the fact remained that Callie had transferred to Mercy West because they were pleased to call a surgeon of her caliber one of their attendings, and, while Richard had no plans to render the Latina's employed status null and void, he wasn't planning to recall her across town either. It left Erica with a difficult choice to make; should she keep working in close quarters with a woman she honestly never wanted to so much as think about again, or would a more tenable prospect be to leave behind the life she'd spent seven years building in Seattle and start again someplace new?
She pondered the question for almost a week, made lists of hospitals to inquire to, even made a call to an old college friend at Mass Gen to see if they were hiring. Eventually though, she decided that she liked the life she had and the city she lived in, and as long as Richard's reign at Seattle Grace didn't impinge on her ability to do her job, run her department the way she saw fit, she wasn't willing to leave behind everything she'd worked so hard to create in Seattle because of a failed love affair.
She tried hard not to think about Arizona and her strange reaction as soon as Erica had identified herself, but the question lingered in the back of her mind. Was whatever had caused that look going to lead to a problem?
*
In the weeks that followed, things happened fast. Callie disappeared from the surgery board at Mercy and Erica spared no more than a few brief moments considering the reason for her return to Seattle Grace. Hospital bureaucracy went crazy shortly after as Richard's alcoholism came to light and Derek Shepherd became chief. With the change in leadership, the constant tension in Erica's shoulders eased, knowing that changes would come, probably for the better, and she at least didn't have to worry about any new vicious encounters with Webber.
But, within days of the power switch, one change came as an extremely unwelcome surprise. Derek moved the majority of the surgical staff to Seattle Grace. Logically, Erica had to admit that it made sense. One center of operations was much simpler to control, and in a hospital, with all the attendant red tape, simple and efficient was the key. Grace also had the better facilities, some of which she had missed since her abrupt departure. Personally though... Seattle Grace was a bear-pit she had no desire to revisit. In her meeting with Shepherd, she'd brought up most of her concerns, but had played her most convincing cards close to her chest, not wanting to broadcast her private life the way so many of Seattle Grace's 'doctors' seemed to love. Erica had almost become the subject of that hospital's carousel of gossip once already, and with Shepherd's inappropriate relationship with Grey, she knew she was risking being dragged back in. Eventually, they had agreed that Erica would give the new leadership a two month trial run, and if it didn't work out, Derek would help her secure another position despite the stumbling block that 3 places of employment in a year may have created.
Standing in front of Seattle Grace the next morning, she'd really regretted that decision.
*
“Erica Hahn, it is nice to have you back.” Derek's voice greeted her as she stood at the nurse's station, waiting for the charts she needed before she could slip back to the relative safety of her new office. It wasn't so much that Erica was trying to hide, she just didn't believe in creating a trail of drama everywhere she went, and really preferred that word spread and no one was shocked to see her. She knew that every possible awkward moment would be impossible to avoid, but she hoped to save her energy for confrontation until the inevitable appearance of Callie or Sloan.
“Dr Shepherd, I'm sorry I can't say the same.” She didn't see the point in lying, in telling Derek that she was pleased to be back. Especially since he already knew that wasn't true.
Derek smiled the million-dollar smile that Erica was sure was supposed to ease her more negative emotions about her return, but it just grated on her nerves, seemed cheesy and pathetic under the harsh florescent lighting. “Well, I hope we'll be able to change that. Remember, my door's always open.”
Erica nodded sharply, taking the charts that the nurse behind the desk offered her. “You're welcome to try,” her tone broking no consideration that Derek and his staff of oversexed teenagers would succeed.
*
Ever on the lookout for Callie and Sloan, knowing that making them frustrated enough to try cornering her in her office was the only way to avoid the humiliation of having the last few weeks of her original tenure spread across the hospital, Erica flew as far under the radar as possible first day. She even managed to abstain from yelling at a particularly useless intern when a simple saline drip proved too much for his limited abilities. But her luck ran out the next morning, when she entered her office to find Mark Sloan lounging in her desk chair. He looked up at her entrance, and Erica sighed heavily, in no mood for the confrontation that seemed inevitable.
“So, the heartbreaker returns.”
Ignoring his jibe, difficult though it was, Erica replied, “This had better be medical.”
Sloan stood up, moving around her desk until he was standing just feet away from her. His voice was full of sarcasm as he spoke. “Sorry, I forgot how you don’t like to mix business with pleasure.”
Feeling ire rising in her chest, Erica fought to keep her voice low and her tone civil. “If you have something to say to me, Sloan, just say it so I can get on with my day.”
“Fine. Stay away from her.”
Erica refused to bow to the intimidation he was trying to instill in her, biting back a bitter chuckle as she realized that, somehow, she’d gotten her heart broken and still ended up the bad guy. “Believe me; I don’t want anything to do with her.”
Sloan studied her face for long moments, and she stared back at him, unblinking. She watched his jaw twitch slightly and knew he was trying to understand if there was an agenda to her return. Sighing again, she spoke once more, “Look… I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. But this is where Derek wants us all to be and he’s the boss now, so let’s just… do the best we can.”
Their eyes locked for a long moment, but then Mark broke their gaze, nodding sharply as he stepped around her, heading out the door with a parting, “She’s happy now. Don’t do anything that might change that.”
Glaring at the white coat across Mark’s retreating back, Erica barely resisted the urge to slam the door behind him. A breathy, acerbic laugh escaped her lips as she crossed the room and slumped down into her chair. “Yeah… she’s definitely the one who hurt more.”
She wished it was true.
*
The theme of the day seemed to be uncomfortable moments. Erica had barely stepped back out of her office before she was wishing she’d just stayed at home. Bailey passed her in the hall, rushed as usual, and the blonde had been relieved that the shorter woman hadn’t seen her until Bailey screeched to a halt in almost comical fashion at the next turn in the labyrinthine corridors, spinning on her heel and gaping at Erica. Deciding there was no way to avoid conversation, Erica started in the woman’s direction, holding her head high. “Dr Bailey, good morning.”
“You, uh…” It took a second for Bailey to compose herself, and Erica wondered why Derek couldn’t have eased her return to the halls of a hospital that had damn near destroyed her both personally and professionally by letting people know she was coming back. “Dr Hahn… are you back?”
Eyes narrowed, studying Bailey’s face for any sign of irritation, Erica replied, “It would seem so, wouldn’t it?”
“Does Torres know you’re here?”
“I imagine she does since I had a visit from Mark Sloan this morning. Don’t worry, I don’t intend to stir the peace.”
Bailey nodded slightly, thoughts visibly racing behind her eyes. “Like there’s ever a moment of peace around here.” She and Erica exchange almost-smiles, before Bailey’s face fell back into the more familiar serious lines that the blonde was more used to seeing. “Dr Hahn… I know Torres brought a lot of your… issues… on herself, and I wouldn’t blame you for being mad at her, but… I like her-“
“I know. Everyone loves Callie. I get it.” Closing down, Erica’s words were almost caustic, burning across the space between her and Bailey, pulling a frown to rest on the other woman’s face.
Bailey studied Erica for a moment, and the blonde contemplated leaving before the woman could speak, but for some reason, she found that she didn’t want to. Apparently, just being back inside these walls had broken the dam in her mind, flooding the better memories she’d shared with Callie through her mind. And, for some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t break away from a conversation that might let her know that Callie had at least felt a little bad after Erica had walked away. If anyone would tell her that straight, she knew it would be Miranda Bailey.
Finally, Bailey shook her head. “Torres is a fool. She’s impulsive, doesn’t think before she does anything, and, like the rest of these idiots, can’t keep her life to herself. She was a fool with George, and fool with you… but I owe a lot to her girlfriend, and I’d hate to see them torn apart.”
“Bailey…” Erica wasn’t sure what to say, felt the knowledge that there was probably no one who didn’t know what had happened between she and Callie pressing down upon her, the gratitude that even though she hadn’t been there to fight her corner, not everyone had come down against her… but the mask she held up for her colleagues to see was strong, reinforced now by the way her hopes had shattered when the one true relationship she’d ever formed with a co-worker had come crashing down around her. So, she retreated, back into the ice queen shell that she’d constructed around her. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The corner of Bailey’s mouth quirked a little before settling back into a more neutral position, “I don’t talk about relationships, Dr Hahn, but you’re probably better off without her.” Before Erica could formulate a response to the surprisingly touching words of a woman with whom she’d had a fractious but cordial relationship at best, Bailey had turned and walked away.
The problem was, she’d given Erica more questions than answers… and made her inexplicably angry with the woman that she used to call her best friend.
She’d thought she was mostly over the extreme emotions where Callie Torres was concerned. It was disconcerting to discover that she was wrong.
*
Callie and the mysterious new girlfriend burned in the back of Erica’s mind for the rest of the day, and instead of keeping an eye out for the familiar woman so she could dart away and avoid any awkward attempts at public conversation, she found herself looking across hallways in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the brunette so she could answer whether Bailey was just being her scarily observant self with whoever Callie was dating now, or if they were living their relationship in front of the hospital.
She didn’t know why the second option made her feel physically sick.
It didn’t make any sense.
Erica didn’t see any sign of the other woman until late in the afternoon when she was walking out of the scrub room, filled with the euphoria of a life well-saved. Congratulating the young resident who had also been uprooted from Mercy West on her skilled closing sutures, Erica turned in the opposite direction to head back to her office.
And Callie, the woman who had been so scared of the new facet of her sexuality that she had continued to run from it even once she knew she was destroying Erica in the process, was standing in the hallway, just feet away, her arms draped around the neck of a blonde whose face Erica couldn’t see but who felt somehow familiar. They weren’t kissing, just standing close enough to breathe one another’s air as they spoke soft words that Erica couldn’t hear. The intimacy was unmistakable, and Erica felt the air rush from her lungs like she had been kicked in the gut.
She’d thought she was over this when she’d walked into the OR all those weeks ago and felt no regret or overwhelming upset at the sight of the chocolate brown eyes that used to melt her from the inside out.
She hated being wrong.
Her feet refused to respond to her instructions as she willed herself to walk away, and she found herself frozen to the spot, unable to look away from the women as her gasp filled her ears, and drew their attention.
As she saw Arizona’s face come into focus, she realized she’d been an idiot to not realize that the loyalty she held that saw that shadow in her eyes when they’d met before belonged to Callie. The Latina may not have realized it… but she definitely had a type; when it came to women at least.
Two pairs of eyes widened to see her standing there, an incomprehensible look sketched upon her face. Erica’s eyes were damp with unshed tears, tears that she couldn’t even tell if they were of anger or sadness. Her hands were clenched, the neatly cropped fingernails digging into her palms and grounding her in the moment. Her lips were set in tight lines, holding back the wave of emotion that threatened to spill from her.
She’d been stupid to think that she was over everything she’d ever felt for Callie when they’d had no closure.
She had never even imagined that the Latina would have moved on to a woman. She felt for sure that Callie and Sloan would fall into one another’s arms, in her bitter rage had decided they deserved each other. Bailey dropped the bombshell, but as feelings battled for supremacy in Erica’s body, she realized that she hadn’t really believed it until it slapped her in the face.
“Erica…” Callie’s voice seemed far away, and Erica battled with her breathing, refusing to allow herself to hyperventilate, not wanting Callie to see just how affected she was by the sight of her in another woman’s arms. Silently chastising herself for the slip in her control, the inability to get it back again, Erica stepped back as Callie moved forwards, disentangling herself from Arizona’s arms, expression unreadable, palms held out as though to mollify the anger that Erica knew Callie would be expecting.
“I…” Erica tumbled over her words, her head spinning too fast for her to grab a concept and force it into a coherent sentence. Every fiber of her body urged her to flee, to lose face in front of a woman she’d already humiliated herself to try and be with far too many times and save losing her fearsome reputation amongst the other hospital staff, some of whom were beginning to look towards the silent commotion the three women were causing as they stared at each other, two distinct camps. With considerable effort, she forced the gate closed on her emotions, closing her eyes as the illusion of calm settled around her and her chin lifted slightly. Callie was closer when Erica’s eyes opened once more, and Erica saw the moment the change in her demeanor registered in the younger woman’s mind, saw her realize that the Erica she was standing before now wasn’t the woman whose shell had cracked at the slightest nudge Callie wished to give it, the woman who had broken open in the brunette’s arms every time they kissed, the woman who let Callie in further than anyone else had ever been and got her heart broken for her daring. No, the woman in front of her was suddenly entirely different, the façade she showed the world closed down around her tender underbelly. “Torres, Robbins, wouldn’t that be better off behind closed doors? I hear the on-call rooms are nice.” She glared across at Callie, a look that would have killed if it could. “Robbins, I’m sure Dr Torres will be able to show you exactly how nice. She sure showed everyone else.”
The voice of the woman who had so enraptured Erica in their brief meeting weeks before, the woman she’d believed a bubbly bimbo and would have attributed to Sloan rather than Callie, spoke, her voice surprisingly steely. “Excuse me-“
Knowing it was a cheap shot, a cheap opening and she could do better for a parting jab if she just tried; Erica still went with the first exit she was given, “You’re excused.”
Before the situation could escalate any further, she turned, briskly walking away with no destination in mind as long as it was far away from the women standing in the hall behind her.
She thought she heard Callie muttering, “Let her go,” as she turned the corner, and a part of her longed to see Arizona ignoring the Latina, wanting nothing more in that moment than for Callie’s true face to be revealed to the blonde who apparently knew nothing about their history that didn’t paint Callie as a saint.
The thought of revenge on the younger woman for how utterly she’d destroyed the blonde’s hopes was more appealing than Erica could even explain.
*
Some hours later, Erica was unsurprised to see Callie loitering outside her door as she signed off on yet more of the tedious paperwork that only seemed to multiply. The blonde watched through the window, torn between bitter amusement and entirely rational irritation as Callie changed her mind several times before the soft music playing from Erica’s computer was interrupted by a staccato rap on the door.
Silencing the music, deciding that this conversation would probably prove impossible to avoid for two months and that sooner would be a better time to have it than later, she called, “Come in, Callie,” her voice heavy with resignation.
Déjà vu washed over her as Callie entered the room. The look on the brunette’s face was reminiscent of the day Callie had confessed she’d again slept with Sloan, and the pang of hurt as Erica thought about it struck almost as painfully as it had then, at what had proved the beginning of the end.
“How did you know it was me?”
Erica laughed, but there was no mirth to be found in the sound, nothing in the tone of her words that would put Callie at ease. “There are a lot of things you’re good at, but stealth isn’t one of them.” Her glance towards the windows of her office gave Callie a more specific answer. Though the blinds were half-drawn, shielding Erica from the gaze of any curious colleagues that may glance in, the angle afforded her an almost perfect view of the hallway outside.
A nervous laugh bubbled into the cavern between them, a divide that spanned a greater distance than the physical spaces they occupied. Tentatively, Callie took a step forward, her eyes fixed on Erica’s face, scanning her impassive expression for a sign of the emotions the Latina was sure rolled under the surface.
There was nothing.
Voice small, Callie spoke. “I think we need to talk.”
“Do we? Strange how you didn’t think of that nine months ago.”
“I thought you just needed some time, Erica, that we could work it out in the morning. But you just left without a word! How was I supposed to know you hadn’t gone back to Baltimore? You always said you wanted to!”
Erica felt her annoyance growing, prickling beneath her skin. “I wasn’t expecting you to read my mind, Callie. There’s this amazing invention called a telephone? You know, that thing you used to call me on all the time? You were wrong; you were supposed to call me, to try and fix things. And I don’t know if it would have worked or not, but you didn’t and that told me everything I needed to know, didn’t it?”
“This hospital is all I know! I don’t have a resume that would make any hospital happy to have me!”
“Well, let’s hope that Arizona never needs your support then.”
“Don’t talk about her! You don’t know her!”
“No. But I know you, don’t I?”
Silence hung between them for seemingly interminable seconds, growing thicker as the question echoed in both their minds, bringing memories to the surface that neither woman liked to think about.
Finally, quietly, Callie’s words broke the tension. “I thought you didn’t know me at all.”
“I learned.” Erica tone betrayed the sadness about that final lesson that still nagged at her, and she found that she couldn’t leave it that way, couldn’t let herself sound defeated, couldn’t stop herself from adding a caustic tag to the statement, “But I’m willing to bet your new girlfriend hasn’t yet.”
“Arizona knows what happened between us.”
“Does she?” Erica’s words were heavy with doubt, hanging between them for a moment before she added, “I’m willing to bet that she only knows the half that doesn’t make you look bad.” From the shifting of Callie’s eyes, the way she refused to meet Erica’s cold stare, the blonde new she’d hit the mark. “What did you tell her about me? That we had one fight and I abandoned you? Poor little Callie, always left behind by the people she loves. It’s a nice story; shame it’s not true.”
“I’m sorry.” The words were little more than a whisper, would have been lost under the slightest amount of sound, but Erica heard them clearly, wondered why they didn’t help her anger to subside.
“You’re sorry? Now? It’s too late for apologies, Callie. What good do you think they’ll do?”
Eyes filling with tears that Erica could find no sympathy for, Callie replied, “I don’t know. But you deserve to hear it. You need to know that I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry that I did. I was sorry then.”
“Back then, it might have made a difference.”
“I loved you, Erica. But I was scared, and you left and I… had to move on. I should have called. I should have… there are so many things I’d change if I could.”
“Pretty words, but you can’t change anything. You can’t undo what you did, even if we both wished you could.”
The past participle caught Callie’s attention; the blonde could tell by the way her eyes snapped back to Erica’s face. “You don’t?”
“If wishes were horses Callie…” she sighed. “But they're not. They're just abstract notions that mean nothing in the end.”
Callie swallowed hard. It wasn't like she had been expecting forgiveness, but she had hoped. She guessed it was a victory that Erica's anger had simmered down to resignation, but it didn't feel like one. “Do you think we can ever... be friends again?”
Erica ran her eyes across the woman in front of her, thinking back to the good times they had shared. But anger still roiled in her gut, Callie's betrayal souring everything they once had. It wasn't just that the younger woman had been a bad girlfriend; in the end, she'd been an even worse friend. And as much as Erica had missed her - still sometimes missed her - the blonde couldn't reopen herself to that potential pain. Second chances had never really been a part of Erica's world-view, and Callie didn't deserve an exception. Even if she was still heartbreakingly beautiful when she pleaded with those wide eyes and full lips.
Taking a deep breath to pull herself away from the temptation of making the same mistake twice, knowing that any attempt to rebuild their friendship was doomed to fail and it would just make the anger she honestly wanted to overcome worst, Erica shook her head. “I told Derek I'd give him two months. So let's just... do our jobs until I can leave.” She turned back to her computer, a clear indication that the conversation was over.
“Erica-”
“Please just leave, Callie. I can't... you hurt me so much. And I don't think I could ever trust you not to do it again.”
She heard the hitch in Callie's breathing that she knew signaled tears, but she didn't turn away from the screen, knowing that the reminiscence of old feelings would soon fade, and she'd be left with the same hollow anger that had filled her since the brunette walked back into her life.
*
Over the week following the confrontation with Callie's ex-girlfriend, Arizona noticed that the Latina was pulling away from her, putting up walls, avoiding making plans, and, perhaps most disconcerting of all, falling back into her old patterns of spending as much time as possible with Mark Sloan instead of confiding in Arizona. The blonde wished she could feel less upset about it, but she missed Callie. She felt like she'd barely seen her for more than 5 minutes since their conversation in the hall of the surgery floor had been disrupted by the uncomfortable moment. Arizona didn't know exactly what had unbalanced her girlfriend so much in that stand-off; it had gone a lot better than any of the ways she and Callie were expecting, but something had, and she was sure she could feel Callie slipping out of her reach.
It terrified her.
*
Callie slipped out of the on-call room bed, perching on the side with her head in her hands. Guilt ran through her in strong waves as she thought of her girlfriend and the woman she'd pushed away without really trying. The mattress shifted behind her, strong, too-large fingers brushing away the curtain of hair that kept her face from Mark's gaze.
Almost tenderly, he said, “Not that I'm complaining, Torres, but what is it with your Erica confusion making you come to me?”
Morose, Callie muttered, “I don't know. I... don't. Fuck. What's wrong with me?”
Without waiting for an answer, she stood sliding her scrub pants back to her waist and smoothing her ruffled hair with the help of the window.
“Brain damage?” Mark offered as she walked away, but Callie paused only to open the door before she disappeared from view.
*
Erica quietly went about her business for the most part, drawing attention to neither her presence nor her absence, competently performing all her surgeries without taking on anything too flashy. All she wanted was to get through the next seven weeks without incident, and get out of Seattle Grace once and for all. She knew her only option now was to leave the city, but she'd made her peace with that.
She just had to get through seven weeks. 49 days. Just over a thousand hours.
It couldn't possibly be that difficult.
*
Arizona stumbled upon Callie almost by accident. She had of course been looking for her, but she wasn't expecting to see her girlfriend almost running through the halls of the cardio department, eyes reddened from tears. As Callie almost ran straight into her and stumbled as she tried to turn upon noticing who she'd almost barreled over, Arizona caught her girlfriend, steadying her with sure hands before stepping around her and pulling the Latina into a hug.
She wasn't expecting Callie to push her away.
Trying to be patient, Arizona questioned, “Baby, what's wrong?”
It only seemed to agitate Callie further. “I need to find Erica. I have to tell her to leave.”
Frowning, the blonde brushed hair away from Callie's face with the back of her hand, turning it to stroke the brunette's cheek gently. “Shh.. Calliope... what happened?”
“I can't- I... just... I don't know! Please, I need to find Erica.”
“You're getting hysterical. Breathe, okay? What's wrong?”
Callie burst into sobs, her hand coming to cover her mouth, hoping to stifle the sound as tears rolled across her cheeks. It startled Arizona, and she pulled Callie back to her, trying to wrap her arms around the woman she loved even as the brunette fought her. As she succeeded, Callie shoved hard at her chest, a strangled “Don't!” rushing from her lips.
Shocked into silent stillness, Arizona stared at her girlfriend, not knowing what to do. She watched as Callie's hand dropped from her mouth, heard a barely-there, “I'm sorry. Arizona... I'm so sorry.”
But before the blonde could figure out whether Callie was apologizing for anything more than pushing her away, her girlfriend was speeding away in the direction she'd come from.
Arizona was torn between three options; follow Callie only to fight again when she found her, find Dr. Hahn and ask her what she'd done to put Callie in the state Arizona had found her, or find Sloan and either convince him to tell her what was going on with the brunette or at least to send the person she seemed happiest talking about Erica with to find the distressed woman.
She hated to admit it, but it made most sense to find Sloan.
Luckily, her panic growing deeper with every second Callie was working herself into more of a fit somewhere where she didn't want Arizona to find her, the blonde found Mark in the first on-call room she came across. As she opened the door, Mark turned over in the bed, speaking before he knew who had entered. “Back again so soon, Torres?”
Then he saw her. “Shit.”
Arizona stared at him, the scrub top discarded in a heap on the ground, the pants that adorned the floor a short distance away, and her stomach dropped, her heart arresting in her chest for the second it took to jump to the obvious conclusion. She tried not to, to make no judgments until she had a chance to talk to Callie. But Mark was avoiding her eyes guiltily, and, suddenly, she felt like she probably didn't know even close to the whole story of what had happened between her girlfriend and the first woman she had loved.
Instead of her original plan, her plea for help, she found her voice frosty as it escaped past the lump that had lodged in her throat. “If you see Calliope, tell her we have to talk.”
*
Erica left the hospital for the day with relief. One more day down. Only 48 left to go. It had been 7 days since her discussion with Callie, and she'd had no more than passing dealings with her since. That seemed like a good enough reason to celebrate, and with the day off that would follow, she looked forward to the bottle of wine she'd open as soon as she got home.
She was curious about the distress she'd seen on Arizona Robins' features as she'd walked past her on her way through the lobby.
But she wasn't surprised if Callie was confused again and making the person who loved her suffer for it.
*
Callie slammed her head against her locker, cursing herself. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could you do this again? What is wrong with you?”
“How could you do what again, Calliope?”
She turned at the sound of her girlfriend's voice, more clipped than concerned, to see Arizona standing in the doorway to the locker room, arms crossed tightly over her chest as though holding herself together. The normally soft blue brightness of Arizona's eyes was darker, storm clouds rolling over the horizon.
Callie froze, wondering whether the piercing glare was a reaction to her pushing her girlfriend away from her, or if something else had happened to cause the anger that she could tell Arizona was barely able to contain. She'd never seen her girlfriend close to this mad before, and she was certain that her hysterical near-breakdown would have inspired more concern than anger. She couldn't have had time to find Erica and hear the most unsavory parts of the story, so that left...
“What did Sloan tell you?”
Arizona's lips tightened as pain blossomed across her face. It dripped from words that tore painfully from her throat, “I was so hoping there was nothing for him to tell.”
Starting across the room, Callie blurted, “It's not what you think.”
“So you didn't have sex with him?”
Callie thought about lying, really she did, but she knew that the truth had an unfortunate way of coming out, especially in a hospital where no one could so much as kiss another person before the gossip started. Instead, she froze, mind racing for something to say, giving away her guilt with her reaction, the silence that went on just too long for the answer to be anything but “I did.”
Trying hard to keep a grip on the grief that raged through her, the betrayal that tasted bitter in the back of her throat, Arizona's voice trembled, but didn't break. “What really happened between you and Erica, Calliope?”
Feeling like the worst scum on the planet, Callie dropped her head, blinking back tears she knew she had no right to if Arizona wasn't crying. “I... went to Sloan instead of her when I got scared. I... she told me she was gay, and I freaked out. I didn't know what I was... and I slept with him.”
“I knew falling in love with you would be a mistake.” Arizona found it impossible to inject the venom the words seemed to need, sadness and regret settling in an uncomfortable ball in her stomach, a sharp pain tugging at her heart.
“Don't say that!”
“This is the reason I told you I don't date newborns! I thought maybe we were going to buck the trend, that you were going to be the one good exception I ever made.”
“I am. I can be.”
“You cheated on me, Calliope. How can you make that okay? After what George did to you, how could you?”
“I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” Callie took a step towards the blonde, but Arizona stepped back.
“Is that what you said to Erica?”
Before Callie could formulate a response, the door burst open and Mark stormed in, calling Callie's name urgently before he saw her. “Oh thank God. Callie, Arizona's looking for-” he stopped abruptly as he noticed that the blonde had in fact already found her.
Arizona glanced between her girlfriend and Mark, her mind flashing images of them wrapped together, tearing at the edges of the hole that the blonde would have sworn had been punched through her chest, and she felt her face crumple, her composure slipping as a harsh sob escaped her.
Mark started, heading back towards the door, “Sorry, I'll just-”
“No. I'll go.” Arizona slipped into the gap of the door Mark had just been beginning to open. Her heart shattering in her chest, her eyes filled with tears, Arizona looked back at the woman she loved, studying her like she'd never see her again. Then, she glanced quickly at Mark, disgust twisting her lips. “You two deserve each other.”
*
The news of Callie and Arizona's break-up was soon on the lips of almost every member of staff. Almost every time either one of them walked into a room, conversations were hushed, people glancing at them as though hoping they'd be the witness when one of the women broke. Callie was like a ghost in the halls, avoiding people as best she could, feeling a sharp sense of shame with every breath she took, even though the true reason for their split was still unknown to the wider community. The only people who knew were her, Arizona, Mark... and she was pretty sure that Erica would have suspicions that would prove only too correct.
Still, she didn't want to see anyone. Didn't want to be asked if she was okay when it was so clear that she wasn't. Didn't want to see the pitying looks that she knew she didn't deserve.
She didn't even really want to see Sloan, but since he was the only other person in the world who knew everything and was still willing to spend much time with her, she didn't have much choice. Kicking herself over failing to learn the lessons her ill-fated relationship with Erica had taught her, Callie didn't even notice that she was still forgetting history, a lesson she'd known perfectly well a week before when she'd told Erica she should have called her.
Not that even she believed that she deserved Arizona's forgiveness.
*
The first time Erica heard the rumor, she shrugged it off. The second time, she listened a little closer, mind whirring over the possible reasons though she tried to tell herself she didn't really care. It didn't take very long for her to figure out the likely cause though. In almost every one of her dealings with the brunette over the last week, she'd been with Sloan, and she had only ever seen Arizona alone.
A part of her wished that she could have felt surprised.
*
Two nights later, Arizona was sitting in a dark corner of Joe's trying to drink away her pain but only managing to intensify it when Callie walked in, accompanied by Mark. Neither of them had seen her, but the mirror behind the bar showed their booth clearly, the quiet conversation they were having. Anger bubbled inside her chest at the sight of them together, the idea that while she was breaking apart, Callie was with her... whatever it was that Mark was to her.
She looked away only when a drink was placed in front of her, Erica Hahn sliding into the other side of the booth. The taller blonde raised an eyebrow, offering, “You look like you need it.”
“Thanks.” Arizona turned her attention back to the mirror, feeling like a hot poker was slicing through her stomach at the small smile Callie offered Sloan as he laughed heartily.
Almost casually, Erica followed the woman's gaze, completely unsurprised to realize that she was watching the reflection of her ex and Mark Sloan. “She's going to marry him, you know.” It was said without feeling, no malice in Erica's tone. It seemed inevitable now she thought about it, and she and Arizona had always been fighting a losing battle where the Latina was concerned.
“She doesn't want him. Not really.” Arizona wasn't sure what it was that Callie actually did want, but she was sure it wasn't Mark Sloan. She hated the way it felt strange to defend the brunette now, when just three days ago it had been as natural as breathing.
“That's not why she'll do it. She's too scared to go after what she really wants, so she'll settle for him and tell herself she's happy.”
The words rang true in the hollow space in Arizona's chest where she was sure her heart was supposed to be. To fill the numbness with something, even if it was artificial, she downed the rest of the screwdriver Erica had brought with her. “I think I need more alcohol.”
*
Erica woke the next morning with a pounding in her head and a warm body beside her. Half-formed images of the night before popped into her brain, but she only remembered flashes of the night after Joe had kicked them out of the Emerald City Bar because he wanted to close. She knew there was a cab involved, was pretty sure they had gone through at least one bottle of wine and vaguely remembered a little trash talking about Sloan, though not Callie since she was still too sensitive a subject for the other blonde. She remembered thinking that she really liked Arizona, that she could see her becoming a - very attractive - friend if it had been worth making another in a city she was preparing to leave. After that though, it all melted into a haze that could have been a dream but for the naked skin pressed against her back.
When she felt Arizona stirring beside her, Erica closed her eyes, pretending to still be asleep. If the other woman wanted to wake her, she was certain that she would. If she wanted to sneak out before an uncomfortable conversation, Erica would let her have that, too.
In fact, she wasn't sure that she didn't prefer the latter option.
*
As Callie and Sloan only appeared to grow closer, so did Erica and Arizona, despite Erica's considerable reservations. More of their night together had returned to the cardio surgeon as her head had stopped throbbing; the way Arizona had felt beneath her hands, arching up towards her touch, the skill with which the normally perky woman played Erica's body, eclipsing the previous experience that had prompted her to announce to Callie that she was gay, the unbearable soft heat of the other woman's mouth in a deep kiss, the tight, clenching heat that closed around Erica's fingers...
Erica knew she was walking a dangerous line, could feel it in the physical reaction she had to Arizona whenever they found themselves in close proximity. Which was often, with the nights they often spent drinking at Joe's. As time rolled around to the beginning of what Erica planned to be her final month at Seattle Grace, they spent more and more of those nights together, less and less alcohol having to cloud their minds before they were all over one another.
She understood that she was a rebound, that she herself was, in all likelihood, rebounding from the same woman, for almost the exact same reasons. In a twisted way, Erica thought that was for the best. They didn't need to talk to exorcize their demons. They each knew how the other had felt.
And Arizona moved closer and closer to the anger outweighing the pain.
*
Twenty three days from Erica's departure, Arizona's silence over Callie finally broke. The trigger was turning a corner in the hospital to see Mark's lips on Callie's. Anger twisted in her gut, broke free.
Once she'd dragged Erica into an on-call room and fucked her harder than ever before, and they were laying together in a sticky, satisfied tangle of limbs, Arizona cursed for the first time Erica could remember hearing. “Fuck them both. I hope she does marry him and regrets it.” She knew it was petulant, didn't really mean the last part, but her anger overtook her pain for the first time, and it felt like cleansing fire.
Suddenly, she didn't feel so much like avoiding causing Callie pain. It wasn't like the brunette had showed any of the same consideration at any point.
Her vocalization of the fact set Erica's mind spinning. Every time she had seen the Latina and the man who'd both helped pull them together and push them apart together, the knife still lodged between her shoulder blades had twisted, reminding her of how much they had hurt her, how much they didn't even seem to care.
They had done the same to Arizona, only the pain was fresher, so it seemed somehow worse.
“I wish she knew how much this hurts.” Erica ran a soothing hand across Arizona's back in response.
She thought she knew how to make that happen.
*
That was how she'd ended up setting up a camera before heading to Joe's with Arizona that night. They both wanted Callie to know how it felt to see someone you loved turning to the comfort of someone else. So they would show her.
She waited until Arizona's third drink was almost empty before bringing up her idea, knowing that it was the threshold where Arizona's inhibitions were fading but she was still sober. Honestly always being the best policy, she decided to be blunt about it first, and explain why if Arizona asked. “I think we should record us having sex and show Callie how much it hurts first hand.”
Erica was glad she'd waited until the other woman had swallowed the drink to speak. From the stunned look on Arizona's face, she had a feeling she'd have been wearing the liquid.
“What?” Wide, innocent-seeming eyes stared at her from across the table, and Erica struggled with her instinct to laugh at the utter disbelief painted across the younger blonde's features.
“You said you wanted her to see how it feels. I want her to see how it feels. We've been sleeping together anyway. And Callie loved us both once. Probably still loves you.”
Glaring at the woman in question sitting across the room with a group of surgeons that included Mark Sloan almost glued to her side, Arizona murmured, “Strange way of showing it.”
As they both watched, Mark leaned down to kiss the brunette. They turned to one another in unison, Erica sure she could feel what Arizona was about to say.
“Okay.”
*
They tumbled down on the sheets of Erica's bed, already naked, the camera framing them perfectly. Erica took a second to glance across to check for the red light that signaled it was recording, sending up a silent thanks to anyone that may be listening for digital camcorders and their almost unlimited space for recording.
Arizona's hips rolled down against hers, their bodies standing out against the dark blue comforter, ivory perfection as they kissed intently, slowly, with none of the frantic nature of their previous encounters. They moved over one another slowly; gentle nips at a collarbone, slow swipes of soft pink muscles across satin skin, fingertips teasing hardened nipples, palms stroking low against stomachs, backs, thighs.
The camera caught it all; every slide of their bodies, every deep, passionate kiss, every thrust of their bodies against one another. As they ground together, knees between thighs, heated wetness reducing the friction to almost non-existence, each gasp and moan that escaped their mouths. Arizona slid her hand between Erica's thighs, and the director inside the older woman would have applauded the brilliance were she not otherwise occupied.
Seconds later, Erica dipped her own fingers into velvet folds, pressing inside, meeting the rhythm that Arizona had set. She mimicked every motion of the other woman's fingers, every crook, every movement of her thumb against Erica's clit. They moaned together, driving one another higher with every motion. And then Arizona curved her fingers, Erica fragmenting, convulsing below the younger woman, the mimicked action the last thing she did before reaching free-fall.
They breathed heavily together, skin covered in slight sheen of sweat, regaining their strength quickly, rolling over to do it all again, sorrow disguised as love.
*
They watched the video the next night.
They didn't get through the first orgasm before they were kissing again to the soundtrack of their own moans.
*
Three weeks later, Erica dropped an edited CD through the slot in Callie's locker before taking Arizona's hand and leaving Seattle Grace for good.
She wasn't expecting her relationship with Arizona to last, neither of them did, but they both wanted away from the hospital, so why not enjoy what they had for as long as it lasted?
If nothing else, at least they were free to be themselves, not trapped in a cage of their own making.
Author: Rachel
Pairing: Erica/Arizona, some Callie/Erica, Mark/Callie and Callie/Arizona.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Rating - NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, will never be mine, though if anyone has a spare Sara Ramirez hanging around, I'll more than gladly take her. I don't own any characters herein, and I will return them (mostly) unharmed once I'm done playing. I am making no money from writing these stories. As a non-profit interpretation of the original work, this constitutes fair use under USC 17.107.
Summary: The Seattle Grace - Mercy West merger brings about more changes than anyone expected.
Words: 9235
Notes:For 'film/photography' on my kink_bingo card. Card here (all completed squares link to the relevant story). Unbetad.
Note 2: Finally, real revenge, I think. It only took a year to get here, but I did eventually do it. \0/ feels appropriately inappropriate, let's go with that. \0/
Best Served Cold
Positioning the camera carefully, Erica knew she was entering the most difficult part of her plan. Arizona seemed soft, but she was difficult to sway once her mind was made up, and she knew the other blonde had long ago decided that she would try to minimize the hurt she caused Callie, though the Latina seemingly had no such plans. In the typical Callie way of trying to please everyone without talking to anyone, eventually failing everyone, the orthopedic surgeon had insisted on remaining 'friends' with Arizona, even as she retreated back to Mark, the safe, but imperfect option. Not even Erica's slowly growing bond with Arizona had kept Callie away, which meant Erica was thrown into contact with the woman she never wanted to speak to again far more often than she was willing to tolerate. It was definitely times for something to be done.
Erica just hoped that she could pull off the delicate balancing act of emotion that would be required. She needed to get Arizona just angry enough, yet stay away from indulging her own anger. The payoff would be worth it.
Eyes on the prize, she slipped from the room.
*
Erica hadn't fallen into this thing with Arizona with a purpose in mind. When Seattle Grace had merged with Mercy West, the blonde was disappointed, but had imagined she'd have few dealings with her former colleagues. And she'd felt safe that Callie wouldn't see her name and come find her, since the other woman had never even called after the argument in the parking lot that had ended up being the end of the end. Erica hadn't ever felt like leaving her apartment might be needed, and since Callie had certainly not shown up to beg forgiveness, the blonde had been proven right. For the first six months, she'd so badly wished to be wrong.
Then... she'd walked into surgery one day to find that Callie Torres was the surgeon she'd been paged to help. In the walls of the hospital that was supposed to be another shield from the turning point in her personal history that Callie had been. The startled moment of realization Erica had just experienced was reflected back at her in eyes that had once seemed so warm and heavily intoxicating as she stepped into view. Now though, the blonde wasn't sure how she felt... just that she was so tired of Callie's continuing presence in her life, as though there was a design Erica were trying to run away from and fate kept pushing them back together.
Fate was clearly underestimating the willpower of Erica Hahn.
Erica wasn't sure if it was shock, shame or just more proof that they never knew each other at all, but Callie didn't even try to initiate conversation in the OR. They'd moved fluidly with one another, mentioning only the words that were necessary to save the life over which they held temporary custody.
It was in the scrub room after the surgery that Erica lost her temper.
They had been standing in uncomfortable silence at the sink, hands on autopilot as they went through the familiar routine of scrubbing out when Callie had broken it. “So this is where you were all this time?”
Her tone was accusatory, and Erica bristled. “Excuse me?”
“I'm just saying, it would have been nice to know you weren't dead.”
Erica rolled her eyes. “Because you looked so hard for me that you couldn't remember my number?”
Callie stared at her, apparently not having expected to be met with Dr Hahn instead of the Erica she had always known.
Erica took the chance to leave before she started yelling. She was sure half of Seattle Grace knew intimate details of her life; she didn't need Mercy West to start talking about her too.
She had to find a way to get Callie back to the hospital she belonged in, to erase the brunette from her life once more.
*
On her way to negotiate with the Chief she'd thought she'd banished from her career with a simple move across town, Erica met Arizona. The too-familiar hallways of Seattle Grace had been empty as the older woman approached Webber's office, until the perky blonde appeared around a corner without warning. There was a bounce in her step that had seen Erica shy away for a second, but as she looked up from the floor at Arizona's “Can I help you?” she'd found herself oddly captivated by the light in blue eyes, the brightness of a wide smile and dimples that settled in rosy cheeks. She had a sense of looking through a fun-house mirror, like they were two sides of the same coin and with a different spread of cards, they could easily have become one another. It was weird; a sinking kind of high.
Shaking off the strange feeling, Erica gathered together all of her composure, ignoring the nagging sense that the woman before her was someone she might like to get to know. “I'm just here to see Richard.”
“Oh. You're friends with the Chief?”
Erica inwardly chuckled at the absurdity of the idea of she and Webber as anything more than antagonistic colleagues after what had passed between them. Holding out her hand, she waited for the woman to take it. During the brisk, surprisingly strong handshake, Erica began, “I'm Erica Hahn. I work at Mercy West. Which, apparently, makes me one of Richard's employees. Again.”
The acknowledgment of the unpleasant fact tasted bitter on the tail of her words, but not as much as the shadow that crossed the other woman's face, the apparent rescinding of the blonde's welcome in the way her body language tightened, the clipped, “Arizona Robbins. I... have to go.”
Erica frowned, watching Arizona flee as though someone were chasing her, wondering which of her former - current - colleagues had the blonde's loyalty. Murmuring, “Should I be pleased they remember me?” under her breath, Erica brushed off the strange encounter, steeling herself for a discussion that would almost inevitably end with she and her incredibly incompetent, impossible to shake boss screaming at one another over his desk.
*
Her meeting had been less than satisfactory. Callie's transfer from Seattle Grace had been voluntary, if apparently accompanied by yelling. Erica couldn't really blame her with Richard's almost sheepish confession that he had been unwilling to promote Callie to attending, despite the uncommonly high score the Latina had achieved in her final exams if Richard was being truthful, and the way Erica knew the younger woman had been preferred to the head of Ortho whenever any of the other surgeons needed a consult. In fact, Erica was certain that she'd barely ever as much as seen another doctor from Callie's department. But understanding Callie's decision didn't mean that she wasn't mad about it, and she'd let Webber know as much. By the end of their conversation though, the fact remained that Callie had transferred to Mercy West because they were pleased to call a surgeon of her caliber one of their attendings, and, while Richard had no plans to render the Latina's employed status null and void, he wasn't planning to recall her across town either. It left Erica with a difficult choice to make; should she keep working in close quarters with a woman she honestly never wanted to so much as think about again, or would a more tenable prospect be to leave behind the life she'd spent seven years building in Seattle and start again someplace new?
She pondered the question for almost a week, made lists of hospitals to inquire to, even made a call to an old college friend at Mass Gen to see if they were hiring. Eventually though, she decided that she liked the life she had and the city she lived in, and as long as Richard's reign at Seattle Grace didn't impinge on her ability to do her job, run her department the way she saw fit, she wasn't willing to leave behind everything she'd worked so hard to create in Seattle because of a failed love affair.
She tried hard not to think about Arizona and her strange reaction as soon as Erica had identified herself, but the question lingered in the back of her mind. Was whatever had caused that look going to lead to a problem?
*
In the weeks that followed, things happened fast. Callie disappeared from the surgery board at Mercy and Erica spared no more than a few brief moments considering the reason for her return to Seattle Grace. Hospital bureaucracy went crazy shortly after as Richard's alcoholism came to light and Derek Shepherd became chief. With the change in leadership, the constant tension in Erica's shoulders eased, knowing that changes would come, probably for the better, and she at least didn't have to worry about any new vicious encounters with Webber.
But, within days of the power switch, one change came as an extremely unwelcome surprise. Derek moved the majority of the surgical staff to Seattle Grace. Logically, Erica had to admit that it made sense. One center of operations was much simpler to control, and in a hospital, with all the attendant red tape, simple and efficient was the key. Grace also had the better facilities, some of which she had missed since her abrupt departure. Personally though... Seattle Grace was a bear-pit she had no desire to revisit. In her meeting with Shepherd, she'd brought up most of her concerns, but had played her most convincing cards close to her chest, not wanting to broadcast her private life the way so many of Seattle Grace's 'doctors' seemed to love. Erica had almost become the subject of that hospital's carousel of gossip once already, and with Shepherd's inappropriate relationship with Grey, she knew she was risking being dragged back in. Eventually, they had agreed that Erica would give the new leadership a two month trial run, and if it didn't work out, Derek would help her secure another position despite the stumbling block that 3 places of employment in a year may have created.
Standing in front of Seattle Grace the next morning, she'd really regretted that decision.
*
“Erica Hahn, it is nice to have you back.” Derek's voice greeted her as she stood at the nurse's station, waiting for the charts she needed before she could slip back to the relative safety of her new office. It wasn't so much that Erica was trying to hide, she just didn't believe in creating a trail of drama everywhere she went, and really preferred that word spread and no one was shocked to see her. She knew that every possible awkward moment would be impossible to avoid, but she hoped to save her energy for confrontation until the inevitable appearance of Callie or Sloan.
“Dr Shepherd, I'm sorry I can't say the same.” She didn't see the point in lying, in telling Derek that she was pleased to be back. Especially since he already knew that wasn't true.
Derek smiled the million-dollar smile that Erica was sure was supposed to ease her more negative emotions about her return, but it just grated on her nerves, seemed cheesy and pathetic under the harsh florescent lighting. “Well, I hope we'll be able to change that. Remember, my door's always open.”
Erica nodded sharply, taking the charts that the nurse behind the desk offered her. “You're welcome to try,” her tone broking no consideration that Derek and his staff of oversexed teenagers would succeed.
*
Ever on the lookout for Callie and Sloan, knowing that making them frustrated enough to try cornering her in her office was the only way to avoid the humiliation of having the last few weeks of her original tenure spread across the hospital, Erica flew as far under the radar as possible first day. She even managed to abstain from yelling at a particularly useless intern when a simple saline drip proved too much for his limited abilities. But her luck ran out the next morning, when she entered her office to find Mark Sloan lounging in her desk chair. He looked up at her entrance, and Erica sighed heavily, in no mood for the confrontation that seemed inevitable.
“So, the heartbreaker returns.”
Ignoring his jibe, difficult though it was, Erica replied, “This had better be medical.”
Sloan stood up, moving around her desk until he was standing just feet away from her. His voice was full of sarcasm as he spoke. “Sorry, I forgot how you don’t like to mix business with pleasure.”
Feeling ire rising in her chest, Erica fought to keep her voice low and her tone civil. “If you have something to say to me, Sloan, just say it so I can get on with my day.”
“Fine. Stay away from her.”
Erica refused to bow to the intimidation he was trying to instill in her, biting back a bitter chuckle as she realized that, somehow, she’d gotten her heart broken and still ended up the bad guy. “Believe me; I don’t want anything to do with her.”
Sloan studied her face for long moments, and she stared back at him, unblinking. She watched his jaw twitch slightly and knew he was trying to understand if there was an agenda to her return. Sighing again, she spoke once more, “Look… I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. But this is where Derek wants us all to be and he’s the boss now, so let’s just… do the best we can.”
Their eyes locked for a long moment, but then Mark broke their gaze, nodding sharply as he stepped around her, heading out the door with a parting, “She’s happy now. Don’t do anything that might change that.”
Glaring at the white coat across Mark’s retreating back, Erica barely resisted the urge to slam the door behind him. A breathy, acerbic laugh escaped her lips as she crossed the room and slumped down into her chair. “Yeah… she’s definitely the one who hurt more.”
She wished it was true.
*
The theme of the day seemed to be uncomfortable moments. Erica had barely stepped back out of her office before she was wishing she’d just stayed at home. Bailey passed her in the hall, rushed as usual, and the blonde had been relieved that the shorter woman hadn’t seen her until Bailey screeched to a halt in almost comical fashion at the next turn in the labyrinthine corridors, spinning on her heel and gaping at Erica. Deciding there was no way to avoid conversation, Erica started in the woman’s direction, holding her head high. “Dr Bailey, good morning.”
“You, uh…” It took a second for Bailey to compose herself, and Erica wondered why Derek couldn’t have eased her return to the halls of a hospital that had damn near destroyed her both personally and professionally by letting people know she was coming back. “Dr Hahn… are you back?”
Eyes narrowed, studying Bailey’s face for any sign of irritation, Erica replied, “It would seem so, wouldn’t it?”
“Does Torres know you’re here?”
“I imagine she does since I had a visit from Mark Sloan this morning. Don’t worry, I don’t intend to stir the peace.”
Bailey nodded slightly, thoughts visibly racing behind her eyes. “Like there’s ever a moment of peace around here.” She and Erica exchange almost-smiles, before Bailey’s face fell back into the more familiar serious lines that the blonde was more used to seeing. “Dr Hahn… I know Torres brought a lot of your… issues… on herself, and I wouldn’t blame you for being mad at her, but… I like her-“
“I know. Everyone loves Callie. I get it.” Closing down, Erica’s words were almost caustic, burning across the space between her and Bailey, pulling a frown to rest on the other woman’s face.
Bailey studied Erica for a moment, and the blonde contemplated leaving before the woman could speak, but for some reason, she found that she didn’t want to. Apparently, just being back inside these walls had broken the dam in her mind, flooding the better memories she’d shared with Callie through her mind. And, for some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t break away from a conversation that might let her know that Callie had at least felt a little bad after Erica had walked away. If anyone would tell her that straight, she knew it would be Miranda Bailey.
Finally, Bailey shook her head. “Torres is a fool. She’s impulsive, doesn’t think before she does anything, and, like the rest of these idiots, can’t keep her life to herself. She was a fool with George, and fool with you… but I owe a lot to her girlfriend, and I’d hate to see them torn apart.”
“Bailey…” Erica wasn’t sure what to say, felt the knowledge that there was probably no one who didn’t know what had happened between she and Callie pressing down upon her, the gratitude that even though she hadn’t been there to fight her corner, not everyone had come down against her… but the mask she held up for her colleagues to see was strong, reinforced now by the way her hopes had shattered when the one true relationship she’d ever formed with a co-worker had come crashing down around her. So, she retreated, back into the ice queen shell that she’d constructed around her. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The corner of Bailey’s mouth quirked a little before settling back into a more neutral position, “I don’t talk about relationships, Dr Hahn, but you’re probably better off without her.” Before Erica could formulate a response to the surprisingly touching words of a woman with whom she’d had a fractious but cordial relationship at best, Bailey had turned and walked away.
The problem was, she’d given Erica more questions than answers… and made her inexplicably angry with the woman that she used to call her best friend.
She’d thought she was mostly over the extreme emotions where Callie Torres was concerned. It was disconcerting to discover that she was wrong.
*
Callie and the mysterious new girlfriend burned in the back of Erica’s mind for the rest of the day, and instead of keeping an eye out for the familiar woman so she could dart away and avoid any awkward attempts at public conversation, she found herself looking across hallways in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the brunette so she could answer whether Bailey was just being her scarily observant self with whoever Callie was dating now, or if they were living their relationship in front of the hospital.
She didn’t know why the second option made her feel physically sick.
It didn’t make any sense.
Erica didn’t see any sign of the other woman until late in the afternoon when she was walking out of the scrub room, filled with the euphoria of a life well-saved. Congratulating the young resident who had also been uprooted from Mercy West on her skilled closing sutures, Erica turned in the opposite direction to head back to her office.
And Callie, the woman who had been so scared of the new facet of her sexuality that she had continued to run from it even once she knew she was destroying Erica in the process, was standing in the hallway, just feet away, her arms draped around the neck of a blonde whose face Erica couldn’t see but who felt somehow familiar. They weren’t kissing, just standing close enough to breathe one another’s air as they spoke soft words that Erica couldn’t hear. The intimacy was unmistakable, and Erica felt the air rush from her lungs like she had been kicked in the gut.
She’d thought she was over this when she’d walked into the OR all those weeks ago and felt no regret or overwhelming upset at the sight of the chocolate brown eyes that used to melt her from the inside out.
She hated being wrong.
Her feet refused to respond to her instructions as she willed herself to walk away, and she found herself frozen to the spot, unable to look away from the women as her gasp filled her ears, and drew their attention.
As she saw Arizona’s face come into focus, she realized she’d been an idiot to not realize that the loyalty she held that saw that shadow in her eyes when they’d met before belonged to Callie. The Latina may not have realized it… but she definitely had a type; when it came to women at least.
Two pairs of eyes widened to see her standing there, an incomprehensible look sketched upon her face. Erica’s eyes were damp with unshed tears, tears that she couldn’t even tell if they were of anger or sadness. Her hands were clenched, the neatly cropped fingernails digging into her palms and grounding her in the moment. Her lips were set in tight lines, holding back the wave of emotion that threatened to spill from her.
She’d been stupid to think that she was over everything she’d ever felt for Callie when they’d had no closure.
She had never even imagined that the Latina would have moved on to a woman. She felt for sure that Callie and Sloan would fall into one another’s arms, in her bitter rage had decided they deserved each other. Bailey dropped the bombshell, but as feelings battled for supremacy in Erica’s body, she realized that she hadn’t really believed it until it slapped her in the face.
“Erica…” Callie’s voice seemed far away, and Erica battled with her breathing, refusing to allow herself to hyperventilate, not wanting Callie to see just how affected she was by the sight of her in another woman’s arms. Silently chastising herself for the slip in her control, the inability to get it back again, Erica stepped back as Callie moved forwards, disentangling herself from Arizona’s arms, expression unreadable, palms held out as though to mollify the anger that Erica knew Callie would be expecting.
“I…” Erica tumbled over her words, her head spinning too fast for her to grab a concept and force it into a coherent sentence. Every fiber of her body urged her to flee, to lose face in front of a woman she’d already humiliated herself to try and be with far too many times and save losing her fearsome reputation amongst the other hospital staff, some of whom were beginning to look towards the silent commotion the three women were causing as they stared at each other, two distinct camps. With considerable effort, she forced the gate closed on her emotions, closing her eyes as the illusion of calm settled around her and her chin lifted slightly. Callie was closer when Erica’s eyes opened once more, and Erica saw the moment the change in her demeanor registered in the younger woman’s mind, saw her realize that the Erica she was standing before now wasn’t the woman whose shell had cracked at the slightest nudge Callie wished to give it, the woman who had broken open in the brunette’s arms every time they kissed, the woman who let Callie in further than anyone else had ever been and got her heart broken for her daring. No, the woman in front of her was suddenly entirely different, the façade she showed the world closed down around her tender underbelly. “Torres, Robbins, wouldn’t that be better off behind closed doors? I hear the on-call rooms are nice.” She glared across at Callie, a look that would have killed if it could. “Robbins, I’m sure Dr Torres will be able to show you exactly how nice. She sure showed everyone else.”
The voice of the woman who had so enraptured Erica in their brief meeting weeks before, the woman she’d believed a bubbly bimbo and would have attributed to Sloan rather than Callie, spoke, her voice surprisingly steely. “Excuse me-“
Knowing it was a cheap shot, a cheap opening and she could do better for a parting jab if she just tried; Erica still went with the first exit she was given, “You’re excused.”
Before the situation could escalate any further, she turned, briskly walking away with no destination in mind as long as it was far away from the women standing in the hall behind her.
She thought she heard Callie muttering, “Let her go,” as she turned the corner, and a part of her longed to see Arizona ignoring the Latina, wanting nothing more in that moment than for Callie’s true face to be revealed to the blonde who apparently knew nothing about their history that didn’t paint Callie as a saint.
The thought of revenge on the younger woman for how utterly she’d destroyed the blonde’s hopes was more appealing than Erica could even explain.
*
Some hours later, Erica was unsurprised to see Callie loitering outside her door as she signed off on yet more of the tedious paperwork that only seemed to multiply. The blonde watched through the window, torn between bitter amusement and entirely rational irritation as Callie changed her mind several times before the soft music playing from Erica’s computer was interrupted by a staccato rap on the door.
Silencing the music, deciding that this conversation would probably prove impossible to avoid for two months and that sooner would be a better time to have it than later, she called, “Come in, Callie,” her voice heavy with resignation.
Déjà vu washed over her as Callie entered the room. The look on the brunette’s face was reminiscent of the day Callie had confessed she’d again slept with Sloan, and the pang of hurt as Erica thought about it struck almost as painfully as it had then, at what had proved the beginning of the end.
“How did you know it was me?”
Erica laughed, but there was no mirth to be found in the sound, nothing in the tone of her words that would put Callie at ease. “There are a lot of things you’re good at, but stealth isn’t one of them.” Her glance towards the windows of her office gave Callie a more specific answer. Though the blinds were half-drawn, shielding Erica from the gaze of any curious colleagues that may glance in, the angle afforded her an almost perfect view of the hallway outside.
A nervous laugh bubbled into the cavern between them, a divide that spanned a greater distance than the physical spaces they occupied. Tentatively, Callie took a step forward, her eyes fixed on Erica’s face, scanning her impassive expression for a sign of the emotions the Latina was sure rolled under the surface.
There was nothing.
Voice small, Callie spoke. “I think we need to talk.”
“Do we? Strange how you didn’t think of that nine months ago.”
“I thought you just needed some time, Erica, that we could work it out in the morning. But you just left without a word! How was I supposed to know you hadn’t gone back to Baltimore? You always said you wanted to!”
Erica felt her annoyance growing, prickling beneath her skin. “I wasn’t expecting you to read my mind, Callie. There’s this amazing invention called a telephone? You know, that thing you used to call me on all the time? You were wrong; you were supposed to call me, to try and fix things. And I don’t know if it would have worked or not, but you didn’t and that told me everything I needed to know, didn’t it?”
“This hospital is all I know! I don’t have a resume that would make any hospital happy to have me!”
“Well, let’s hope that Arizona never needs your support then.”
“Don’t talk about her! You don’t know her!”
“No. But I know you, don’t I?”
Silence hung between them for seemingly interminable seconds, growing thicker as the question echoed in both their minds, bringing memories to the surface that neither woman liked to think about.
Finally, quietly, Callie’s words broke the tension. “I thought you didn’t know me at all.”
“I learned.” Erica tone betrayed the sadness about that final lesson that still nagged at her, and she found that she couldn’t leave it that way, couldn’t let herself sound defeated, couldn’t stop herself from adding a caustic tag to the statement, “But I’m willing to bet your new girlfriend hasn’t yet.”
“Arizona knows what happened between us.”
“Does she?” Erica’s words were heavy with doubt, hanging between them for a moment before she added, “I’m willing to bet that she only knows the half that doesn’t make you look bad.” From the shifting of Callie’s eyes, the way she refused to meet Erica’s cold stare, the blonde new she’d hit the mark. “What did you tell her about me? That we had one fight and I abandoned you? Poor little Callie, always left behind by the people she loves. It’s a nice story; shame it’s not true.”
“I’m sorry.” The words were little more than a whisper, would have been lost under the slightest amount of sound, but Erica heard them clearly, wondered why they didn’t help her anger to subside.
“You’re sorry? Now? It’s too late for apologies, Callie. What good do you think they’ll do?”
Eyes filling with tears that Erica could find no sympathy for, Callie replied, “I don’t know. But you deserve to hear it. You need to know that I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry that I did. I was sorry then.”
“Back then, it might have made a difference.”
“I loved you, Erica. But I was scared, and you left and I… had to move on. I should have called. I should have… there are so many things I’d change if I could.”
“Pretty words, but you can’t change anything. You can’t undo what you did, even if we both wished you could.”
The past participle caught Callie’s attention; the blonde could tell by the way her eyes snapped back to Erica’s face. “You don’t?”
“If wishes were horses Callie…” she sighed. “But they're not. They're just abstract notions that mean nothing in the end.”
Callie swallowed hard. It wasn't like she had been expecting forgiveness, but she had hoped. She guessed it was a victory that Erica's anger had simmered down to resignation, but it didn't feel like one. “Do you think we can ever... be friends again?”
Erica ran her eyes across the woman in front of her, thinking back to the good times they had shared. But anger still roiled in her gut, Callie's betrayal souring everything they once had. It wasn't just that the younger woman had been a bad girlfriend; in the end, she'd been an even worse friend. And as much as Erica had missed her - still sometimes missed her - the blonde couldn't reopen herself to that potential pain. Second chances had never really been a part of Erica's world-view, and Callie didn't deserve an exception. Even if she was still heartbreakingly beautiful when she pleaded with those wide eyes and full lips.
Taking a deep breath to pull herself away from the temptation of making the same mistake twice, knowing that any attempt to rebuild their friendship was doomed to fail and it would just make the anger she honestly wanted to overcome worst, Erica shook her head. “I told Derek I'd give him two months. So let's just... do our jobs until I can leave.” She turned back to her computer, a clear indication that the conversation was over.
“Erica-”
“Please just leave, Callie. I can't... you hurt me so much. And I don't think I could ever trust you not to do it again.”
She heard the hitch in Callie's breathing that she knew signaled tears, but she didn't turn away from the screen, knowing that the reminiscence of old feelings would soon fade, and she'd be left with the same hollow anger that had filled her since the brunette walked back into her life.
*
Over the week following the confrontation with Callie's ex-girlfriend, Arizona noticed that the Latina was pulling away from her, putting up walls, avoiding making plans, and, perhaps most disconcerting of all, falling back into her old patterns of spending as much time as possible with Mark Sloan instead of confiding in Arizona. The blonde wished she could feel less upset about it, but she missed Callie. She felt like she'd barely seen her for more than 5 minutes since their conversation in the hall of the surgery floor had been disrupted by the uncomfortable moment. Arizona didn't know exactly what had unbalanced her girlfriend so much in that stand-off; it had gone a lot better than any of the ways she and Callie were expecting, but something had, and she was sure she could feel Callie slipping out of her reach.
It terrified her.
*
Callie slipped out of the on-call room bed, perching on the side with her head in her hands. Guilt ran through her in strong waves as she thought of her girlfriend and the woman she'd pushed away without really trying. The mattress shifted behind her, strong, too-large fingers brushing away the curtain of hair that kept her face from Mark's gaze.
Almost tenderly, he said, “Not that I'm complaining, Torres, but what is it with your Erica confusion making you come to me?”
Morose, Callie muttered, “I don't know. I... don't. Fuck. What's wrong with me?”
Without waiting for an answer, she stood sliding her scrub pants back to her waist and smoothing her ruffled hair with the help of the window.
“Brain damage?” Mark offered as she walked away, but Callie paused only to open the door before she disappeared from view.
*
Erica quietly went about her business for the most part, drawing attention to neither her presence nor her absence, competently performing all her surgeries without taking on anything too flashy. All she wanted was to get through the next seven weeks without incident, and get out of Seattle Grace once and for all. She knew her only option now was to leave the city, but she'd made her peace with that.
She just had to get through seven weeks. 49 days. Just over a thousand hours.
It couldn't possibly be that difficult.
*
Arizona stumbled upon Callie almost by accident. She had of course been looking for her, but she wasn't expecting to see her girlfriend almost running through the halls of the cardio department, eyes reddened from tears. As Callie almost ran straight into her and stumbled as she tried to turn upon noticing who she'd almost barreled over, Arizona caught her girlfriend, steadying her with sure hands before stepping around her and pulling the Latina into a hug.
She wasn't expecting Callie to push her away.
Trying to be patient, Arizona questioned, “Baby, what's wrong?”
It only seemed to agitate Callie further. “I need to find Erica. I have to tell her to leave.”
Frowning, the blonde brushed hair away from Callie's face with the back of her hand, turning it to stroke the brunette's cheek gently. “Shh.. Calliope... what happened?”
“I can't- I... just... I don't know! Please, I need to find Erica.”
“You're getting hysterical. Breathe, okay? What's wrong?”
Callie burst into sobs, her hand coming to cover her mouth, hoping to stifle the sound as tears rolled across her cheeks. It startled Arizona, and she pulled Callie back to her, trying to wrap her arms around the woman she loved even as the brunette fought her. As she succeeded, Callie shoved hard at her chest, a strangled “Don't!” rushing from her lips.
Shocked into silent stillness, Arizona stared at her girlfriend, not knowing what to do. She watched as Callie's hand dropped from her mouth, heard a barely-there, “I'm sorry. Arizona... I'm so sorry.”
But before the blonde could figure out whether Callie was apologizing for anything more than pushing her away, her girlfriend was speeding away in the direction she'd come from.
Arizona was torn between three options; follow Callie only to fight again when she found her, find Dr. Hahn and ask her what she'd done to put Callie in the state Arizona had found her, or find Sloan and either convince him to tell her what was going on with the brunette or at least to send the person she seemed happiest talking about Erica with to find the distressed woman.
She hated to admit it, but it made most sense to find Sloan.
Luckily, her panic growing deeper with every second Callie was working herself into more of a fit somewhere where she didn't want Arizona to find her, the blonde found Mark in the first on-call room she came across. As she opened the door, Mark turned over in the bed, speaking before he knew who had entered. “Back again so soon, Torres?”
Then he saw her. “Shit.”
Arizona stared at him, the scrub top discarded in a heap on the ground, the pants that adorned the floor a short distance away, and her stomach dropped, her heart arresting in her chest for the second it took to jump to the obvious conclusion. She tried not to, to make no judgments until she had a chance to talk to Callie. But Mark was avoiding her eyes guiltily, and, suddenly, she felt like she probably didn't know even close to the whole story of what had happened between her girlfriend and the first woman she had loved.
Instead of her original plan, her plea for help, she found her voice frosty as it escaped past the lump that had lodged in her throat. “If you see Calliope, tell her we have to talk.”
*
Erica left the hospital for the day with relief. One more day down. Only 48 left to go. It had been 7 days since her discussion with Callie, and she'd had no more than passing dealings with her since. That seemed like a good enough reason to celebrate, and with the day off that would follow, she looked forward to the bottle of wine she'd open as soon as she got home.
She was curious about the distress she'd seen on Arizona Robins' features as she'd walked past her on her way through the lobby.
But she wasn't surprised if Callie was confused again and making the person who loved her suffer for it.
*
Callie slammed her head against her locker, cursing herself. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could you do this again? What is wrong with you?”
“How could you do what again, Calliope?”
She turned at the sound of her girlfriend's voice, more clipped than concerned, to see Arizona standing in the doorway to the locker room, arms crossed tightly over her chest as though holding herself together. The normally soft blue brightness of Arizona's eyes was darker, storm clouds rolling over the horizon.
Callie froze, wondering whether the piercing glare was a reaction to her pushing her girlfriend away from her, or if something else had happened to cause the anger that she could tell Arizona was barely able to contain. She'd never seen her girlfriend close to this mad before, and she was certain that her hysterical near-breakdown would have inspired more concern than anger. She couldn't have had time to find Erica and hear the most unsavory parts of the story, so that left...
“What did Sloan tell you?”
Arizona's lips tightened as pain blossomed across her face. It dripped from words that tore painfully from her throat, “I was so hoping there was nothing for him to tell.”
Starting across the room, Callie blurted, “It's not what you think.”
“So you didn't have sex with him?”
Callie thought about lying, really she did, but she knew that the truth had an unfortunate way of coming out, especially in a hospital where no one could so much as kiss another person before the gossip started. Instead, she froze, mind racing for something to say, giving away her guilt with her reaction, the silence that went on just too long for the answer to be anything but “I did.”
Trying hard to keep a grip on the grief that raged through her, the betrayal that tasted bitter in the back of her throat, Arizona's voice trembled, but didn't break. “What really happened between you and Erica, Calliope?”
Feeling like the worst scum on the planet, Callie dropped her head, blinking back tears she knew she had no right to if Arizona wasn't crying. “I... went to Sloan instead of her when I got scared. I... she told me she was gay, and I freaked out. I didn't know what I was... and I slept with him.”
“I knew falling in love with you would be a mistake.” Arizona found it impossible to inject the venom the words seemed to need, sadness and regret settling in an uncomfortable ball in her stomach, a sharp pain tugging at her heart.
“Don't say that!”
“This is the reason I told you I don't date newborns! I thought maybe we were going to buck the trend, that you were going to be the one good exception I ever made.”
“I am. I can be.”
“You cheated on me, Calliope. How can you make that okay? After what George did to you, how could you?”
“I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” Callie took a step towards the blonde, but Arizona stepped back.
“Is that what you said to Erica?”
Before Callie could formulate a response, the door burst open and Mark stormed in, calling Callie's name urgently before he saw her. “Oh thank God. Callie, Arizona's looking for-” he stopped abruptly as he noticed that the blonde had in fact already found her.
Arizona glanced between her girlfriend and Mark, her mind flashing images of them wrapped together, tearing at the edges of the hole that the blonde would have sworn had been punched through her chest, and she felt her face crumple, her composure slipping as a harsh sob escaped her.
Mark started, heading back towards the door, “Sorry, I'll just-”
“No. I'll go.” Arizona slipped into the gap of the door Mark had just been beginning to open. Her heart shattering in her chest, her eyes filled with tears, Arizona looked back at the woman she loved, studying her like she'd never see her again. Then, she glanced quickly at Mark, disgust twisting her lips. “You two deserve each other.”
*
The news of Callie and Arizona's break-up was soon on the lips of almost every member of staff. Almost every time either one of them walked into a room, conversations were hushed, people glancing at them as though hoping they'd be the witness when one of the women broke. Callie was like a ghost in the halls, avoiding people as best she could, feeling a sharp sense of shame with every breath she took, even though the true reason for their split was still unknown to the wider community. The only people who knew were her, Arizona, Mark... and she was pretty sure that Erica would have suspicions that would prove only too correct.
Still, she didn't want to see anyone. Didn't want to be asked if she was okay when it was so clear that she wasn't. Didn't want to see the pitying looks that she knew she didn't deserve.
She didn't even really want to see Sloan, but since he was the only other person in the world who knew everything and was still willing to spend much time with her, she didn't have much choice. Kicking herself over failing to learn the lessons her ill-fated relationship with Erica had taught her, Callie didn't even notice that she was still forgetting history, a lesson she'd known perfectly well a week before when she'd told Erica she should have called her.
Not that even she believed that she deserved Arizona's forgiveness.
*
The first time Erica heard the rumor, she shrugged it off. The second time, she listened a little closer, mind whirring over the possible reasons though she tried to tell herself she didn't really care. It didn't take very long for her to figure out the likely cause though. In almost every one of her dealings with the brunette over the last week, she'd been with Sloan, and she had only ever seen Arizona alone.
A part of her wished that she could have felt surprised.
*
Two nights later, Arizona was sitting in a dark corner of Joe's trying to drink away her pain but only managing to intensify it when Callie walked in, accompanied by Mark. Neither of them had seen her, but the mirror behind the bar showed their booth clearly, the quiet conversation they were having. Anger bubbled inside her chest at the sight of them together, the idea that while she was breaking apart, Callie was with her... whatever it was that Mark was to her.
She looked away only when a drink was placed in front of her, Erica Hahn sliding into the other side of the booth. The taller blonde raised an eyebrow, offering, “You look like you need it.”
“Thanks.” Arizona turned her attention back to the mirror, feeling like a hot poker was slicing through her stomach at the small smile Callie offered Sloan as he laughed heartily.
Almost casually, Erica followed the woman's gaze, completely unsurprised to realize that she was watching the reflection of her ex and Mark Sloan. “She's going to marry him, you know.” It was said without feeling, no malice in Erica's tone. It seemed inevitable now she thought about it, and she and Arizona had always been fighting a losing battle where the Latina was concerned.
“She doesn't want him. Not really.” Arizona wasn't sure what it was that Callie actually did want, but she was sure it wasn't Mark Sloan. She hated the way it felt strange to defend the brunette now, when just three days ago it had been as natural as breathing.
“That's not why she'll do it. She's too scared to go after what she really wants, so she'll settle for him and tell herself she's happy.”
The words rang true in the hollow space in Arizona's chest where she was sure her heart was supposed to be. To fill the numbness with something, even if it was artificial, she downed the rest of the screwdriver Erica had brought with her. “I think I need more alcohol.”
*
Erica woke the next morning with a pounding in her head and a warm body beside her. Half-formed images of the night before popped into her brain, but she only remembered flashes of the night after Joe had kicked them out of the Emerald City Bar because he wanted to close. She knew there was a cab involved, was pretty sure they had gone through at least one bottle of wine and vaguely remembered a little trash talking about Sloan, though not Callie since she was still too sensitive a subject for the other blonde. She remembered thinking that she really liked Arizona, that she could see her becoming a - very attractive - friend if it had been worth making another in a city she was preparing to leave. After that though, it all melted into a haze that could have been a dream but for the naked skin pressed against her back.
When she felt Arizona stirring beside her, Erica closed her eyes, pretending to still be asleep. If the other woman wanted to wake her, she was certain that she would. If she wanted to sneak out before an uncomfortable conversation, Erica would let her have that, too.
In fact, she wasn't sure that she didn't prefer the latter option.
*
As Callie and Sloan only appeared to grow closer, so did Erica and Arizona, despite Erica's considerable reservations. More of their night together had returned to the cardio surgeon as her head had stopped throbbing; the way Arizona had felt beneath her hands, arching up towards her touch, the skill with which the normally perky woman played Erica's body, eclipsing the previous experience that had prompted her to announce to Callie that she was gay, the unbearable soft heat of the other woman's mouth in a deep kiss, the tight, clenching heat that closed around Erica's fingers...
Erica knew she was walking a dangerous line, could feel it in the physical reaction she had to Arizona whenever they found themselves in close proximity. Which was often, with the nights they often spent drinking at Joe's. As time rolled around to the beginning of what Erica planned to be her final month at Seattle Grace, they spent more and more of those nights together, less and less alcohol having to cloud their minds before they were all over one another.
She understood that she was a rebound, that she herself was, in all likelihood, rebounding from the same woman, for almost the exact same reasons. In a twisted way, Erica thought that was for the best. They didn't need to talk to exorcize their demons. They each knew how the other had felt.
And Arizona moved closer and closer to the anger outweighing the pain.
*
Twenty three days from Erica's departure, Arizona's silence over Callie finally broke. The trigger was turning a corner in the hospital to see Mark's lips on Callie's. Anger twisted in her gut, broke free.
Once she'd dragged Erica into an on-call room and fucked her harder than ever before, and they were laying together in a sticky, satisfied tangle of limbs, Arizona cursed for the first time Erica could remember hearing. “Fuck them both. I hope she does marry him and regrets it.” She knew it was petulant, didn't really mean the last part, but her anger overtook her pain for the first time, and it felt like cleansing fire.
Suddenly, she didn't feel so much like avoiding causing Callie pain. It wasn't like the brunette had showed any of the same consideration at any point.
Her vocalization of the fact set Erica's mind spinning. Every time she had seen the Latina and the man who'd both helped pull them together and push them apart together, the knife still lodged between her shoulder blades had twisted, reminding her of how much they had hurt her, how much they didn't even seem to care.
They had done the same to Arizona, only the pain was fresher, so it seemed somehow worse.
“I wish she knew how much this hurts.” Erica ran a soothing hand across Arizona's back in response.
She thought she knew how to make that happen.
*
That was how she'd ended up setting up a camera before heading to Joe's with Arizona that night. They both wanted Callie to know how it felt to see someone you loved turning to the comfort of someone else. So they would show her.
She waited until Arizona's third drink was almost empty before bringing up her idea, knowing that it was the threshold where Arizona's inhibitions were fading but she was still sober. Honestly always being the best policy, she decided to be blunt about it first, and explain why if Arizona asked. “I think we should record us having sex and show Callie how much it hurts first hand.”
Erica was glad she'd waited until the other woman had swallowed the drink to speak. From the stunned look on Arizona's face, she had a feeling she'd have been wearing the liquid.
“What?” Wide, innocent-seeming eyes stared at her from across the table, and Erica struggled with her instinct to laugh at the utter disbelief painted across the younger blonde's features.
“You said you wanted her to see how it feels. I want her to see how it feels. We've been sleeping together anyway. And Callie loved us both once. Probably still loves you.”
Glaring at the woman in question sitting across the room with a group of surgeons that included Mark Sloan almost glued to her side, Arizona murmured, “Strange way of showing it.”
As they both watched, Mark leaned down to kiss the brunette. They turned to one another in unison, Erica sure she could feel what Arizona was about to say.
“Okay.”
*
They tumbled down on the sheets of Erica's bed, already naked, the camera framing them perfectly. Erica took a second to glance across to check for the red light that signaled it was recording, sending up a silent thanks to anyone that may be listening for digital camcorders and their almost unlimited space for recording.
Arizona's hips rolled down against hers, their bodies standing out against the dark blue comforter, ivory perfection as they kissed intently, slowly, with none of the frantic nature of their previous encounters. They moved over one another slowly; gentle nips at a collarbone, slow swipes of soft pink muscles across satin skin, fingertips teasing hardened nipples, palms stroking low against stomachs, backs, thighs.
The camera caught it all; every slide of their bodies, every deep, passionate kiss, every thrust of their bodies against one another. As they ground together, knees between thighs, heated wetness reducing the friction to almost non-existence, each gasp and moan that escaped their mouths. Arizona slid her hand between Erica's thighs, and the director inside the older woman would have applauded the brilliance were she not otherwise occupied.
Seconds later, Erica dipped her own fingers into velvet folds, pressing inside, meeting the rhythm that Arizona had set. She mimicked every motion of the other woman's fingers, every crook, every movement of her thumb against Erica's clit. They moaned together, driving one another higher with every motion. And then Arizona curved her fingers, Erica fragmenting, convulsing below the younger woman, the mimicked action the last thing she did before reaching free-fall.
They breathed heavily together, skin covered in slight sheen of sweat, regaining their strength quickly, rolling over to do it all again, sorrow disguised as love.
*
They watched the video the next night.
They didn't get through the first orgasm before they were kissing again to the soundtrack of their own moans.
*
Three weeks later, Erica dropped an edited CD through the slot in Callie's locker before taking Arizona's hand and leaving Seattle Grace for good.
She wasn't expecting her relationship with Arizona to last, neither of them did, but they both wanted away from the hospital, so why not enjoy what they had for as long as it lasted?
If nothing else, at least they were free to be themselves, not trapped in a cage of their own making.