Dare You to Move (Part One)
That’s right, I’m back with my little friend, writers’ block, it’s annoying I know, but I’m determined to write my way through it! Now this was supposed to be a little one shot but ended up being quite long, but I’m sure you’ll all forgive me.
Dare You to Move
When you’re a teenager you expect yourself to grow, you expect the world to change around you and its common knowledge that everyone learns to deal with this notion in different ways.
Some people are care free, they’re laid back, they’re ready to just go with the flow and see where life takes them.
And then there are the people that like to prepare themselves anyway possible. They study and watch the people around, they make sure to take notes on what seems to work and what doesn’t, so that they have some kind of foundation to build on.
I happened to be the latter of the two groups. Where possible I liked to have an idea, I liked to have rules to outline the correct pathway to choose; I liked control and order, unexpected wasn’t a word I liked to keep in my vocabulary.
But now, at the matured age of forty-one I find myself stumbling down a path that I didn’t expect and certainly didn’t think to prepare myself for.
It’s new, it’s undiscovered and I have no instructions to follow, this part of my life that I’ve so clumsily stumbled on is being navigated by pure gut instinct and I have to hope that it’ll be enough to guide me down the bumpy path and to my destination safely.
My eyes flick up from the chart I’m working on and I catch a glimpse of ebony hair rounding the corner; I instantly feel a smile forming on my face. Dr Hahn always manages to flee the room when she’s around lately, leaving me completely vulnerable and open to her charm, and if she wasn’t walking towards me with that megawatt smile that’s so purely her, I’d scold myself for turning into a goofy awkward mess; like a teenager who has only just developed their first crush.
“Hey,” she greets me happily and holds out a cup of coffee for me to take, “I saw the board earlier and knew you’d need a pick-me-up after that last surgery. So…” she shakes the cup she has offered to me, indicating for me to take it. I take the cup from her grasp and smile shakily at her as our fingers brush.
Since Callie kissed me outside of the hospital there has been a few nervous touches between us, as Mark Sloan so delightfully called it ‘hand holding and foot rubs,’ and as juvenile as that seems I’m pretty sure that’s as much as we could have managed; the slightest contact of our skin and I’m full out trembling.
“Thanks Torres, this is just what I needed,” I take a long sip and relish in the bitter taste that travels down my throat.
When my eyes find hers again she’s looking at me in the same way she did after our first, and so far only, date. Her chocolate eyes are bright; twinkling with a mixture of anxiety and what I can only presume is desire. It’s exactly the same way she was looking at me before she pulled me closer and pleaded with me to kiss her.
Her gaze is flickering around my face and as they settle on my lips, her own lips part and her tongue peeks out to swipe across them.
I feel my throat dry and when I finally force myself to speak my voice has dropped to a low murmur, “What?”
Her eyes flick back up to mine and she takes a tentative step forwards. Blood is pounding heavily in my ears and my heart is fluttering at a critical rate when she gets close enough to me that I can feel the heat radiating from her body.
“You erm…” Her voice is audible as a husky whisper as she lifts her fingers to my lips and gently trails her fingertips across their surface, “Had some foam…” She lifts her fingers to my eyes as evidence of why we’re suddenly so close and before I can even think to reply she lifts those fingers to her mouth and lets her tongue wipe the foam clean from their tips.
I can’t stop the groan that escapes my lips as I watch her suckle on her finger, I’m completely mesmerised by everything that she does. She smirks sexily and her eyes smoulder as she takes a step back and sips at her own coffee.
I shake my head and shoot her a pointed look. She knows I’m under her spell, “You’re an ass Torres.”
She lets out a laugh and raises an eyebrow, “If I remember correctly,” she leans in closer to me again, “And I think I do. Your hands seemed to like my ass an awful lot,” she pulls back and smirks at me again.
Callie Torres likes to have the upper hand, she’s sexy, she’s a tease and she knows how to combine them both to drive me totally insane.
“Well it’s all part of second base Dr Torres, and I like to keep to the rules. It’s a good ass, but it’s not great, my hands have felt better,” I smirk back at her as her eyes widen in shock and for once I feel as if I have taken the upper hand from her grasp.
Callie’s been openly flirting with me at the hospital for days and I know that she thinks it’s a game, a challenge that the professional Dr Hahn will not rise to. She loves to watch me squirm as I lose composure, but today I turn the tables, I accept the challenge she’s thrown to me.
Her eyes sadden and she lowers her voice to a whisper as Olivia passes by, “Oh… right… I need to erm… go check on my patients,” her eyes are looking everywhere except at me and she’s stuttering uncomfortably.
I suddenly realise just how fragile her confidence is. She’s just as scared about this as I am and as I watch her scurry away around the corner, I immediately regret my words. Her ass is great, it’s fucking luxurious and she was right, I couldn’t keep my hands off it when we kissed. My comment was supposed to be playful, it was supposed to falter her step, not knock her down completely.
I leave my chart and coffee where it’s resting against the nurses’ station counter and follow after her. She hasn’t got too far away and I’m able to catch her arm and lead her wordlessly into the nearest supply cupboard.
“Erica-”
I shake my head and move closer to her, effectively pinning her back against the door, “You have a great ass. The best ass I’ve ever felt up actually,” I tell her honestly.
“Oh…”
I risk another step closer to her and cautiously place my hands onto her hips and tug her away from the door, my hands sliding down and over the firm globes of her ass. I nuzzle her ear with my nose, “Best ass ever,” I murmur again and move my lips to graze the exposed skin at the base of her neck as her hands make their way up my back, holding me to her.
I pull back to search out her eyes, “I’m sorry about before… apparently I suck at the whole playful flirting thing.”
She smiles at me and I feel the panic leaving my body, “Do you want to go on a second date with me tonight?”
“You mean like a date date?” I reply teasingly.
She smirks and I know that she gets what we’re doing, “Yeah you know, a restaurant, candle light, a bottle of wine… at the end of the night I try to take your clothes off.”
“That would be a date,” I slowly lean in and brush my lips against hers, “Where will you really be taking me Torres?”
“Hmm… I was thinking something along the lines of dinner, drinks and a night out dancing,” she smiles at me, “Like old times.”
I smile back because it sounds great; I’d happily go anywhere as long as I got to spend the night in her company, “Sounds like a plan, I can’t wait.”
We stand smiling at each other for a few seconds before Callie breaks the silence, “Erica?”
“Yeah?”
“You still have your hands on my ass,” she smirks sexily; her husky voice reaches my ears and I feel a flush rising to my cheeks.
I quickly pull out of her arms and avert her gaze, my cheeks flaming red in embarrassment, “I... erm... sorry,” I flick my eyes back to hers and she simply shakes her head and chuckles.
“You’re cute when you ramble Hahn,” She flashes me another smile and pulls open the door, calling back, “I’ll pick you up at seven,” before rejoining the busy halls of Seattle Grace.
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I’m nervous about my date with Callie, and I know that I’m feeling unsettled because I can’t stop pacing up and down my hallway. I’ve been ready for the last ten minutes and every time I hear the familiar clicking sound of footsteps as someone passes through the hallway of my apartment building, I immediately feel nauseous.
I felt the exact same way when I prepared myself for our first date, it’s not in fear of how the evening will go, because I know that even with a slight dose of awkwardness me and Callie will eventually settle into our comfortable friendship. It’s because I’ve become this jittery girlie teenager trapped inside my elder self, who is completely obsessed with how she looks. Callie wears her scrubs with such ease that she looks like she’s wearing the world’s finest silk, I’ve never seen anyone look as beautiful as she does without trying.
Outside of work she’s even more stunning, and I know tonight will be no exception. She’ll be wearing some glamorous dress, her hair and makeup done to perfection as if she has her own personal stylist team, and here I am, the tall, awkward blonde who has never spent the time to learn what the latest fashion trend is, the blonde who never bothers to pamper herself with makeup every day because she simply doesn’t think it important, and the same blonde who let’s face it, can straighten and curl her hair but never learnt to master hair pins, clips and accessories.
There’s a section of my wardrobe dedicated to what I call “date” outfits, now most of these outfits are black because let’s face it, black is safe, it always looks flattering and never causes you to stand out too much. I wore black on our first date and I’m pretty sure Callie would notice if I turned up in something similar again tonight. Especially because at the end of that night she’d leaned in to me, her warm breath had tickled against my ear as she whispered to me that she thought she’d never seen me look more beautiful; I blushed like crazy in response which only made her laugh and lean in to kiss me.
It doesn’t help that my “date” end of the wardrobe only has a limited selection of “casual” date outfits; again mostly long black skirts with some kind of slightly dressy blouses, in a range of what can only be described as neutral colours.
Callie sent me a text at the end of her shift with clear instructions for our evening ahead. I was to be dressed in something casual and comfortable (so that they’d be no excuse for me to not dance away the night) and yes that instruction was added in directly for me with brackets, I was to be ready for seven because Callie wanted to pick me up (like all official dates begin) again another cute side note that didn’t fail to make me smile, and I wasn’t to bring any money; apparently Callie was still feeling slightly bothered that I’d paid the entire bill for our first date.
After pulling out a selection of outfits and spending at least an hour trying them on before deciding that I was going to end up looking horrible, I made the conscious decision to breathe, and try to relax. Callie said casual, we’d been out dancing before and I never over thought what I was wearing then... but back then I wasn’t worried about trying to get Callie’s eyes to rake over my body in that appreciative way she does that ends with a completely adorable and yet bashful smile.
I know that I need to relax, and in order to do that successfully I need my old friend, wine. I head into my kitchen and grab myself a drink; splashing the red liquid into the glass and taking a few large sips before heading back to the wardrobe from hell.
I finally decide to stop fretting about this whole ordeal and grab an old, but trusty black skirt, and top it off with a fairly new, but never worn ruffled looking purple top. Curling my hair into its usual unruly state, slipping on my black heels and adding my favourite silver bracelet to complete one Erica Hahn casual date outfit.
The rattling at the door draws me from my thoughts; I suck in a deep breath as I reach out to grab the handle; stopping briefly to check myself in the mirror above the hall table before swinging the door open and giving Callie what I hope comes across as a confident smile.
“Hey,” Callie shuffles a little as her eyes pass over me, quickly recovering to reveal the flowers she has hidden behind her back and extending them to me, “Cheesy and cliché I know,” she gives me an amused smile, and I simply roll my eyes playfully and indicate with my head for her to follow me into the apartment.
“They might be cheesy and cliché, but they’re beautiful,” I flash her a smile as I pull a vase from under the kitchen sink, filling it with water and arranging the flowers.
“So are you.”
Her gaze immediately flutters away from mine; a pink flush covering her cheeks to display her embarrassment at her whispered admission. I take this opportunity to check out her “casual” date outfit; she’s wearing a beautiful dress, the top half a dark shade of purple while the bottom half is a sassy shade of red; both complimenting her honey skin tone perfectly.
“I thought you said to dress “casual” Torres.”
At the sound of my playful tone, Callie’s eyes flick back up to meet my own and she smirks at me, “I am dressed casually.”
I move around the kitchen counter towards her, “There’s nothing casual about that dress Cal, you look incredible.”
She reaches for my hand, sliding our fingers together and tugs me closer, “Thank you.”
I look down at my own outfit and shake my head as my eyes connect with hers once again, “If that’s casual then we must have different definitions because compared to you I look as if I’ve chosen sweat pants instead of an eloquent dress for a posh evening out... for something like dinner at the Archfield.”
Callie lets out a chuckle, “You look great, your outfit isn’t in the sweat pants league, trust me,” I shake my head and glance down at myself again, feeling embarrassed by my complete lack of fashion knowledge. Callie’s free hand cups my face, her thumb trailing gentle strokes over my cheek as she draws my gaze back to her, “Erica you look beautiful, so quit worrying, and we’re not going for an expensive dinner at the Archfield, we’re going dancing. That skirt you’re wearing,” she looks down at my legs and licks her lips before smirking at me, “Total dancing skirt.”
“Well I guess you better take me to a club so that I can give my “dance skirt” a whirl, see how well it works,” I watch her roll her eyes playfully at me and shoot her a half smile.
“It’ll work, trust me,” she tugs my hand and leads me towards the door; looking back over her shoulder at me, “With those long legs of yours on display Dr Hahn, that skirt will definitely work.”
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When we reach the club Callie hands the cab driver our fare and quickly hops out to run around to my side; opening the door and holding her hand out for me to take. My teasing “Quite the gentleman, Torres,” comment earning me a playful nudge before she entwines our fingers and leads me towards the entrance to a club that we’ve never been to before.
I take in the groups of people chatting outside the club, the bright pink neon lights dancing the outline of the clubs name into the darkening sky; feeling my stomach instantly knot in tension at where I think we might be. I chance a sidelong glance at Callie, who simply gives my hand a firm squeeze and continues to lead me inside the crowded bar, where even more people are gathered.
A gathering of what appear to be gay people...women dancing with other women, women kissing other women, openly, freely, with no hesitation.
Callie pulls me to the quietest end of the bar and turns to look at me, taking in the surprised look on my face; her brow immediately furrowing; defeat lacing her voice, “You hate it.”
“I don’t hate it,” I look around and take in as much as I can; trying to process my thoughts before returning to her dark pools, “I’m just surprised. I didn’t think we were at the whole... lesbian bar part of this whole thing... yet.”
I watch her shrug a little, concern filling her eyes, “It’s not a lesbian bar, it’s a women’s bar. Exclusively for women,” she gives me a shy smile, “I just thought that maybe it would make us relax a little, if we were, you know...” she gestures towards a group of women dancing together on the dance floor, “Out in a place where women are comfortable with other women. If it’s making you uncomfortable though, we can leave.”
I shake my head, smiling to reassure her, “We only just got here Cal, there’s no way we’re leaving. Plus I thought you wanted to dance the night away?”
Callie graces me with a wicked grin and turns towards the bar; giving the woman behind the counter our orders and offering me a shot of Tequila as she turns back to face me, “Trust me Erica, we’re definitely going to dance; me, you and your hot little skirt are going to hit the floor in a minute. But first we need to get a few drinks in you,” she lifts her glass to her lips; downing her shot easily.
I follow her orders and let myself enjoy the way the liquid burns a pathway down my throat. I quirk a brow as Callie hands me another shot, and I can’t help but notice that she doesn’t have another one for herself, “What’s going on Torres, you trying to get me drunk so that you can take advantage?”
Callie laughs in response; her pearly white teeth coming out in a dazzling display, “I’m getting you loosened up. You might have the spirit of a dancer but the talent? Not so much.”
I feign offence and then let out a laugh as Callie’s eyebrow raises in challenge, “Fine, I might not be the best dancer out there, but you make me look worse with all your... natural, sassy, Spanish flare,” I down my second shot and send a smirk her way.
She reaches over and takes the shot glass from my hand; placing it back onto the bar, before clasping my hand in hers, “I guess I better teach you how to dance then, since I apparently have a natural rhythm, and you Dr Hahn, have none.”
I let Callie lead me out onto the dance floor, immediately feeling at ease when none of the other women’s eyes seem to take any notice of us, and for the first time since we started this whole thing, I don’t feel so self conscious about being with her.
She guides my hands to her hips and begins swaying them in time to the music; her own hands trailing up my arms and coming to rest loosely around my neck. She leans in towards my ear, whispering teasing comments about my wooden dance moves, before pulling back to smile at me playfully.
We spend the rest of the night dancing away none stop to the continuous flow of music; the awkwardness that I had felt before Callie picked me up completely erased from my body, as we settled into our easy friendship, the playful banter, the teasing comments, the endless laughing. It felt just as easy as every other time we’d hung out; the air around us completely void of the tension from our first date.
We’d danced pretty closely tonight, our hands hadn’t been afraid to reach out and touch each other in the slightest, but even so, for date standards this night has been pretty innocent. There has been no groping, no attempts for kissing... just simple caresses, big smiles, and even bigger laughs. It’s been fun.
Eventually I notice that the crowd in the bar has slowly begun to vanish and when I turn to look back at Callie, I know that she knows too, that the night of our second date was sadly coming to an end. She dips her head towards the bar and waves her cash at me, letting me know where she’s going. I follow Callie with my eyes as she heads over to the bar to pay off our night’s tab. After a few seconds she turns to give me a smile, letting me know to follow her to the exit; the cool night air instantly having an effect on our heated skin.
Callie slips into her coat and the pulls mine from my grasp; holding it out to me to shrug into. I give her a thankful smile, glad that we’re both covered from the nippy wind. Suddenly I can’t help feeling the twinge of anxiousness settle back into my stomach, knowing that the ending to our date is sure to be awkward.
I open my mouth to tell Callie that I’ve had a great night, but the words stick in my throat; caught off guard by how close she’s gotten to me. I can’t help but notice how her voice has turned low and husky, “Come back to mine for a bit, we can grab a glass of wine and unwind in the warm.”
Her smile is small and gentle and I can sense the nervousness radiating off every inch of her body. I give her a small smile in return and nod my head, “I’d love too.”
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Part Two
Part Three
Dare You to Move
When you’re a teenager you expect yourself to grow, you expect the world to change around you and its common knowledge that everyone learns to deal with this notion in different ways.
Some people are care free, they’re laid back, they’re ready to just go with the flow and see where life takes them.
And then there are the people that like to prepare themselves anyway possible. They study and watch the people around, they make sure to take notes on what seems to work and what doesn’t, so that they have some kind of foundation to build on.
I happened to be the latter of the two groups. Where possible I liked to have an idea, I liked to have rules to outline the correct pathway to choose; I liked control and order, unexpected wasn’t a word I liked to keep in my vocabulary.
But now, at the matured age of forty-one I find myself stumbling down a path that I didn’t expect and certainly didn’t think to prepare myself for.
It’s new, it’s undiscovered and I have no instructions to follow, this part of my life that I’ve so clumsily stumbled on is being navigated by pure gut instinct and I have to hope that it’ll be enough to guide me down the bumpy path and to my destination safely.
My eyes flick up from the chart I’m working on and I catch a glimpse of ebony hair rounding the corner; I instantly feel a smile forming on my face. Dr Hahn always manages to flee the room when she’s around lately, leaving me completely vulnerable and open to her charm, and if she wasn’t walking towards me with that megawatt smile that’s so purely her, I’d scold myself for turning into a goofy awkward mess; like a teenager who has only just developed their first crush.
“Hey,” she greets me happily and holds out a cup of coffee for me to take, “I saw the board earlier and knew you’d need a pick-me-up after that last surgery. So…” she shakes the cup she has offered to me, indicating for me to take it. I take the cup from her grasp and smile shakily at her as our fingers brush.
Since Callie kissed me outside of the hospital there has been a few nervous touches between us, as Mark Sloan so delightfully called it ‘hand holding and foot rubs,’ and as juvenile as that seems I’m pretty sure that’s as much as we could have managed; the slightest contact of our skin and I’m full out trembling.
“Thanks Torres, this is just what I needed,” I take a long sip and relish in the bitter taste that travels down my throat.
When my eyes find hers again she’s looking at me in the same way she did after our first, and so far only, date. Her chocolate eyes are bright; twinkling with a mixture of anxiety and what I can only presume is desire. It’s exactly the same way she was looking at me before she pulled me closer and pleaded with me to kiss her.
Her gaze is flickering around my face and as they settle on my lips, her own lips part and her tongue peeks out to swipe across them.
I feel my throat dry and when I finally force myself to speak my voice has dropped to a low murmur, “What?”
Her eyes flick back up to mine and she takes a tentative step forwards. Blood is pounding heavily in my ears and my heart is fluttering at a critical rate when she gets close enough to me that I can feel the heat radiating from her body.
“You erm…” Her voice is audible as a husky whisper as she lifts her fingers to my lips and gently trails her fingertips across their surface, “Had some foam…” She lifts her fingers to my eyes as evidence of why we’re suddenly so close and before I can even think to reply she lifts those fingers to her mouth and lets her tongue wipe the foam clean from their tips.
I can’t stop the groan that escapes my lips as I watch her suckle on her finger, I’m completely mesmerised by everything that she does. She smirks sexily and her eyes smoulder as she takes a step back and sips at her own coffee.
I shake my head and shoot her a pointed look. She knows I’m under her spell, “You’re an ass Torres.”
She lets out a laugh and raises an eyebrow, “If I remember correctly,” she leans in closer to me again, “And I think I do. Your hands seemed to like my ass an awful lot,” she pulls back and smirks at me again.
Callie Torres likes to have the upper hand, she’s sexy, she’s a tease and she knows how to combine them both to drive me totally insane.
“Well it’s all part of second base Dr Torres, and I like to keep to the rules. It’s a good ass, but it’s not great, my hands have felt better,” I smirk back at her as her eyes widen in shock and for once I feel as if I have taken the upper hand from her grasp.
Callie’s been openly flirting with me at the hospital for days and I know that she thinks it’s a game, a challenge that the professional Dr Hahn will not rise to. She loves to watch me squirm as I lose composure, but today I turn the tables, I accept the challenge she’s thrown to me.
Her eyes sadden and she lowers her voice to a whisper as Olivia passes by, “Oh… right… I need to erm… go check on my patients,” her eyes are looking everywhere except at me and she’s stuttering uncomfortably.
I suddenly realise just how fragile her confidence is. She’s just as scared about this as I am and as I watch her scurry away around the corner, I immediately regret my words. Her ass is great, it’s fucking luxurious and she was right, I couldn’t keep my hands off it when we kissed. My comment was supposed to be playful, it was supposed to falter her step, not knock her down completely.
I leave my chart and coffee where it’s resting against the nurses’ station counter and follow after her. She hasn’t got too far away and I’m able to catch her arm and lead her wordlessly into the nearest supply cupboard.
“Erica-”
I shake my head and move closer to her, effectively pinning her back against the door, “You have a great ass. The best ass I’ve ever felt up actually,” I tell her honestly.
“Oh…”
I risk another step closer to her and cautiously place my hands onto her hips and tug her away from the door, my hands sliding down and over the firm globes of her ass. I nuzzle her ear with my nose, “Best ass ever,” I murmur again and move my lips to graze the exposed skin at the base of her neck as her hands make their way up my back, holding me to her.
I pull back to search out her eyes, “I’m sorry about before… apparently I suck at the whole playful flirting thing.”
She smiles at me and I feel the panic leaving my body, “Do you want to go on a second date with me tonight?”
“You mean like a date date?” I reply teasingly.
She smirks and I know that she gets what we’re doing, “Yeah you know, a restaurant, candle light, a bottle of wine… at the end of the night I try to take your clothes off.”
“That would be a date,” I slowly lean in and brush my lips against hers, “Where will you really be taking me Torres?”
“Hmm… I was thinking something along the lines of dinner, drinks and a night out dancing,” she smiles at me, “Like old times.”
I smile back because it sounds great; I’d happily go anywhere as long as I got to spend the night in her company, “Sounds like a plan, I can’t wait.”
We stand smiling at each other for a few seconds before Callie breaks the silence, “Erica?”
“Yeah?”
“You still have your hands on my ass,” she smirks sexily; her husky voice reaches my ears and I feel a flush rising to my cheeks.
I quickly pull out of her arms and avert her gaze, my cheeks flaming red in embarrassment, “I... erm... sorry,” I flick my eyes back to hers and she simply shakes her head and chuckles.
“You’re cute when you ramble Hahn,” She flashes me another smile and pulls open the door, calling back, “I’ll pick you up at seven,” before rejoining the busy halls of Seattle Grace.
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I’m nervous about my date with Callie, and I know that I’m feeling unsettled because I can’t stop pacing up and down my hallway. I’ve been ready for the last ten minutes and every time I hear the familiar clicking sound of footsteps as someone passes through the hallway of my apartment building, I immediately feel nauseous.
I felt the exact same way when I prepared myself for our first date, it’s not in fear of how the evening will go, because I know that even with a slight dose of awkwardness me and Callie will eventually settle into our comfortable friendship. It’s because I’ve become this jittery girlie teenager trapped inside my elder self, who is completely obsessed with how she looks. Callie wears her scrubs with such ease that she looks like she’s wearing the world’s finest silk, I’ve never seen anyone look as beautiful as she does without trying.
Outside of work she’s even more stunning, and I know tonight will be no exception. She’ll be wearing some glamorous dress, her hair and makeup done to perfection as if she has her own personal stylist team, and here I am, the tall, awkward blonde who has never spent the time to learn what the latest fashion trend is, the blonde who never bothers to pamper herself with makeup every day because she simply doesn’t think it important, and the same blonde who let’s face it, can straighten and curl her hair but never learnt to master hair pins, clips and accessories.
There’s a section of my wardrobe dedicated to what I call “date” outfits, now most of these outfits are black because let’s face it, black is safe, it always looks flattering and never causes you to stand out too much. I wore black on our first date and I’m pretty sure Callie would notice if I turned up in something similar again tonight. Especially because at the end of that night she’d leaned in to me, her warm breath had tickled against my ear as she whispered to me that she thought she’d never seen me look more beautiful; I blushed like crazy in response which only made her laugh and lean in to kiss me.
It doesn’t help that my “date” end of the wardrobe only has a limited selection of “casual” date outfits; again mostly long black skirts with some kind of slightly dressy blouses, in a range of what can only be described as neutral colours.
Callie sent me a text at the end of her shift with clear instructions for our evening ahead. I was to be dressed in something casual and comfortable (so that they’d be no excuse for me to not dance away the night) and yes that instruction was added in directly for me with brackets, I was to be ready for seven because Callie wanted to pick me up (like all official dates begin) again another cute side note that didn’t fail to make me smile, and I wasn’t to bring any money; apparently Callie was still feeling slightly bothered that I’d paid the entire bill for our first date.
After pulling out a selection of outfits and spending at least an hour trying them on before deciding that I was going to end up looking horrible, I made the conscious decision to breathe, and try to relax. Callie said casual, we’d been out dancing before and I never over thought what I was wearing then... but back then I wasn’t worried about trying to get Callie’s eyes to rake over my body in that appreciative way she does that ends with a completely adorable and yet bashful smile.
I know that I need to relax, and in order to do that successfully I need my old friend, wine. I head into my kitchen and grab myself a drink; splashing the red liquid into the glass and taking a few large sips before heading back to the wardrobe from hell.
I finally decide to stop fretting about this whole ordeal and grab an old, but trusty black skirt, and top it off with a fairly new, but never worn ruffled looking purple top. Curling my hair into its usual unruly state, slipping on my black heels and adding my favourite silver bracelet to complete one Erica Hahn casual date outfit.
The rattling at the door draws me from my thoughts; I suck in a deep breath as I reach out to grab the handle; stopping briefly to check myself in the mirror above the hall table before swinging the door open and giving Callie what I hope comes across as a confident smile.
“Hey,” Callie shuffles a little as her eyes pass over me, quickly recovering to reveal the flowers she has hidden behind her back and extending them to me, “Cheesy and cliché I know,” she gives me an amused smile, and I simply roll my eyes playfully and indicate with my head for her to follow me into the apartment.
“They might be cheesy and cliché, but they’re beautiful,” I flash her a smile as I pull a vase from under the kitchen sink, filling it with water and arranging the flowers.
“So are you.”
Her gaze immediately flutters away from mine; a pink flush covering her cheeks to display her embarrassment at her whispered admission. I take this opportunity to check out her “casual” date outfit; she’s wearing a beautiful dress, the top half a dark shade of purple while the bottom half is a sassy shade of red; both complimenting her honey skin tone perfectly.
“I thought you said to dress “casual” Torres.”
At the sound of my playful tone, Callie’s eyes flick back up to meet my own and she smirks at me, “I am dressed casually.”
I move around the kitchen counter towards her, “There’s nothing casual about that dress Cal, you look incredible.”
She reaches for my hand, sliding our fingers together and tugs me closer, “Thank you.”
I look down at my own outfit and shake my head as my eyes connect with hers once again, “If that’s casual then we must have different definitions because compared to you I look as if I’ve chosen sweat pants instead of an eloquent dress for a posh evening out... for something like dinner at the Archfield.”
Callie lets out a chuckle, “You look great, your outfit isn’t in the sweat pants league, trust me,” I shake my head and glance down at myself again, feeling embarrassed by my complete lack of fashion knowledge. Callie’s free hand cups my face, her thumb trailing gentle strokes over my cheek as she draws my gaze back to her, “Erica you look beautiful, so quit worrying, and we’re not going for an expensive dinner at the Archfield, we’re going dancing. That skirt you’re wearing,” she looks down at my legs and licks her lips before smirking at me, “Total dancing skirt.”
“Well I guess you better take me to a club so that I can give my “dance skirt” a whirl, see how well it works,” I watch her roll her eyes playfully at me and shoot her a half smile.
“It’ll work, trust me,” she tugs my hand and leads me towards the door; looking back over her shoulder at me, “With those long legs of yours on display Dr Hahn, that skirt will definitely work.”
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When we reach the club Callie hands the cab driver our fare and quickly hops out to run around to my side; opening the door and holding her hand out for me to take. My teasing “Quite the gentleman, Torres,” comment earning me a playful nudge before she entwines our fingers and leads me towards the entrance to a club that we’ve never been to before.
I take in the groups of people chatting outside the club, the bright pink neon lights dancing the outline of the clubs name into the darkening sky; feeling my stomach instantly knot in tension at where I think we might be. I chance a sidelong glance at Callie, who simply gives my hand a firm squeeze and continues to lead me inside the crowded bar, where even more people are gathered.
A gathering of what appear to be gay people...women dancing with other women, women kissing other women, openly, freely, with no hesitation.
Callie pulls me to the quietest end of the bar and turns to look at me, taking in the surprised look on my face; her brow immediately furrowing; defeat lacing her voice, “You hate it.”
“I don’t hate it,” I look around and take in as much as I can; trying to process my thoughts before returning to her dark pools, “I’m just surprised. I didn’t think we were at the whole... lesbian bar part of this whole thing... yet.”
I watch her shrug a little, concern filling her eyes, “It’s not a lesbian bar, it’s a women’s bar. Exclusively for women,” she gives me a shy smile, “I just thought that maybe it would make us relax a little, if we were, you know...” she gestures towards a group of women dancing together on the dance floor, “Out in a place where women are comfortable with other women. If it’s making you uncomfortable though, we can leave.”
I shake my head, smiling to reassure her, “We only just got here Cal, there’s no way we’re leaving. Plus I thought you wanted to dance the night away?”
Callie graces me with a wicked grin and turns towards the bar; giving the woman behind the counter our orders and offering me a shot of Tequila as she turns back to face me, “Trust me Erica, we’re definitely going to dance; me, you and your hot little skirt are going to hit the floor in a minute. But first we need to get a few drinks in you,” she lifts her glass to her lips; downing her shot easily.
I follow her orders and let myself enjoy the way the liquid burns a pathway down my throat. I quirk a brow as Callie hands me another shot, and I can’t help but notice that she doesn’t have another one for herself, “What’s going on Torres, you trying to get me drunk so that you can take advantage?”
Callie laughs in response; her pearly white teeth coming out in a dazzling display, “I’m getting you loosened up. You might have the spirit of a dancer but the talent? Not so much.”
I feign offence and then let out a laugh as Callie’s eyebrow raises in challenge, “Fine, I might not be the best dancer out there, but you make me look worse with all your... natural, sassy, Spanish flare,” I down my second shot and send a smirk her way.
She reaches over and takes the shot glass from my hand; placing it back onto the bar, before clasping my hand in hers, “I guess I better teach you how to dance then, since I apparently have a natural rhythm, and you Dr Hahn, have none.”
I let Callie lead me out onto the dance floor, immediately feeling at ease when none of the other women’s eyes seem to take any notice of us, and for the first time since we started this whole thing, I don’t feel so self conscious about being with her.
She guides my hands to her hips and begins swaying them in time to the music; her own hands trailing up my arms and coming to rest loosely around my neck. She leans in towards my ear, whispering teasing comments about my wooden dance moves, before pulling back to smile at me playfully.
We spend the rest of the night dancing away none stop to the continuous flow of music; the awkwardness that I had felt before Callie picked me up completely erased from my body, as we settled into our easy friendship, the playful banter, the teasing comments, the endless laughing. It felt just as easy as every other time we’d hung out; the air around us completely void of the tension from our first date.
We’d danced pretty closely tonight, our hands hadn’t been afraid to reach out and touch each other in the slightest, but even so, for date standards this night has been pretty innocent. There has been no groping, no attempts for kissing... just simple caresses, big smiles, and even bigger laughs. It’s been fun.
Eventually I notice that the crowd in the bar has slowly begun to vanish and when I turn to look back at Callie, I know that she knows too, that the night of our second date was sadly coming to an end. She dips her head towards the bar and waves her cash at me, letting me know where she’s going. I follow Callie with my eyes as she heads over to the bar to pay off our night’s tab. After a few seconds she turns to give me a smile, letting me know to follow her to the exit; the cool night air instantly having an effect on our heated skin.
Callie slips into her coat and the pulls mine from my grasp; holding it out to me to shrug into. I give her a thankful smile, glad that we’re both covered from the nippy wind. Suddenly I can’t help feeling the twinge of anxiousness settle back into my stomach, knowing that the ending to our date is sure to be awkward.
I open my mouth to tell Callie that I’ve had a great night, but the words stick in my throat; caught off guard by how close she’s gotten to me. I can’t help but notice how her voice has turned low and husky, “Come back to mine for a bit, we can grab a glass of wine and unwind in the warm.”
Her smile is small and gentle and I can sense the nervousness radiating off every inch of her body. I give her a small smile in return and nod my head, “I’d love too.”
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Part Two
Part Three