Fic: Did You Hear? 1/1

[a_windsor]

Title: Did You Hear?

Rating: PG? PG-13? (The occasional curse and discussion of adultery)

Authors: a_windsor & roughian (windsorian?)

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. My one and a half years of law school could allow me to legalese this a little more, but it also tells me it’s pretty useless. So please don’t sue; it’s not mine, I’m just playing!

Summary: One of the first follow-ups to Can’t Walk Away. Set after Callie confesses to Owen.

A/N: Here is another one! Thank you so much for the fantastic response to the first fic! We wouldn't be here without all of you. The style for the follow-ups, I think, will be to take different scenes from within the ‘verse and plop you down anywhere in the timeline. So they could be “flashbacks” or they could set you in the “present” timeline from Can’t Walk Away. This one is a “flashback”. But in present tense, because writing in past tense legitimately makes a_windsor have the shakes.


***

"Did you hear?"

Yang looks up at her former nemesis, probably friend, Meredith Webber.

"What?" Cristina asks. She doesn't love hospital gossip, but she guesses she can indulge her friend for a few minutes while she ties her shoes in the residents' lounge.

"Torres is leaving Hunt!"

Cristina's fingers freeze at her laces, fighting the urge to run and find Owen (Doctor Hunt).

"What?"

Of course she is. Torres has never been able to handle what it is that Hunt is going through; always so oblivious, blindly accepting the front he is putting up.

"I heard she's been cheating on him," Webber says more solemnly, memories of her own recent break up fresh in her mind. "It's like infidelity is a freaking epidemic around here.”

“Who’s she cheating with?” Percy asks.

The only reason they tolerate Charles anywhere near by is because of the whole Karev and Kepner thing; Meredith sees him as something of another victim of the fiasco, even though everyone knows Meredith is now screwing the former McDreary and poor sadsack Percy is still all alone. Yang rolls her eyes and goes along with his presence, though, because it’s nice not having to fight with someone every time she enters a room.

Meredith bites her lip and hesitates, making Cristina narrow her eyes at her.

“I shouldn’t say...” Meredith draws out.

“Why? Is it someone here?” Yang asks. “Is it some young intern? ‘Cause 007 was always giving her a few puppy dog looks...”

“I heard it’s Robbins!” Meredith blurts with a bit of a school girl blush.

“Seriously?” Cristina blurts at the same time Percy lets out a drooling:

“Hot.”

Both women give him a reproachful look, and Meredith continues.

“I mean, it’s just a rumor, but I guess Torres has been showing a greater interest in handling peds consults on her own. And they do have a lot of lunches.”

Cristina rolls her eyes. Despite the badassery she’s instilled in Webber over the past few months, sometimes the blinding naivete of years of palling around with Kepner still comes through.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“I’ve seen them coming out of on-call rooms like three separate times,” Avery chimes in as he hangs up his stethoscope.

“Dude, why have you not shared that with the class?” Percy demands.

Avery gives him a bored shrug. “Not my business.”

“Do you really think it’s Robbins?” Cristina finds herself asking, even though she really doesn’t gossip.

“Who cares?” Avery asks. “She’s your boss. If she’s dating Robbins, I’m sure you’ll know soon enough.”

They disperse, Percy pestering a taciturn Avery for details of the supposed affair, and Webber following close behind Yang on their way to Torres’s rounds.

“I can’t believe she left him,” Meredith is repeating. “They have all those kids!”

Cristina once again fights the urge to run and find Owen. Dr. Hunt.

“It’s really not any of our business. Let’s just round, okay?”

***

“You left him!”

Callie winces. She really should’ve gone to the day care for lunch, like she was planning, she just couldn’t sit there and listen to all of Allegra’s painful questions and the boys’ obliviousness.

“You left him, and you didn’t even bother to consult with me first?”

“Well, you never told me about Ella’s real father, either, so consider us even,” Callie says, pushing her salad around her plate. She’s really not hungry.

“Touché.”

“How did you find out about it anyway?”

“Everyone knows, Cal. Everyone. Did you tell Robbins? What did she say?”

The sick feeling in Callie’s stomach grows again. She throws her fork down onto the table.

“I haven’t told her. It all happened so fast.”

“But Callie, she has to find out from you. At this point, she probably already knows!”

Callie shakes her head. “She’s off today. I won’t let her find out that way.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Addison demands. “I’ve seen the way you two undress each other with your eyes. She’s going to be ecstatic.”

“I don’t know, Addison,” Callie sighs. “It’s not... It’s not a sure thing.”

“Not a sure thing? Cal, you left your husband for this woman.”

“No, I left my husband because we’re not fixable. Because we haven’t loved each other for a long time.”

“And you realized this,” Addison says knowingly, “Because you’ve been having hot sex in every corner of this hospital with Arizona Robbins.”

Callie blushes. “Stop.”

Addison takes a careful bite of salad, chewing, swallowing, taking a sip of water.

Callie looks at her own salad before picking her head up. “That’s part of it.”

Smiling, the redhead stabs a cherry tomato, popping it into her mouth. “And? The other parts?”

Shrugging, Callie drops her gaze again. It wasn’t easy to explain without spilling cliches like a tawdry romance novel.

“She makes me happier than I ever thought I could be.”

“And you don’t think that’s just because this is illicit?” Addison asks, honestly. “I like Dr. Robbins, and if she makes you happy then I’m happy for you, honestly Cal.”

It should be easy, Callie thinks to herself. It should be the news that frees them, sure, but it also pops the giant bubble of romance found in illicit liaisons, forces affair to become relationship, and she never stopped to ask Arizona if that’s what she wanted. She just knew that she couldn’t feel this way about Arizona and still be married to Owen.

“She does make me happy,” Callie breathes. “Extremely happy.”

But Callie still wonders if she’ll feel this was the right decision if Arizona doesn’t want to continue this.

***

Cristina finally gives in and finds Owen, pulling him into an empty exam room and saying honestly:

“I heard.”

Owen looks at her like he’s going to vomit.

“She left me.”

“She’s an idiot,” Cristina says consolingly, in her own way, but Owen just shakes his head negatively, pacing.

“No, no. She’s... I wouldn’t stay with me either.”

Cristina has no response to that.

“She’s sleeping with Robbins.”

So the rumors are true.

“She has been. For months. I knew they were spending a lot of time together, but I just thought... I thought it was good she had a friend. Montgomery-Shepherd was busy with her baby, and I just thought... I didn’t see this coming.” He pauses, thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe I did, but I don’t know if I wanted to see it coming.”

“I’m not sure anyone saw it coming.”

“Has this always been what was wrong? I never got- The sex was the last thing to go. I don’t...”

Though she would rather talk about anything other than Hunt’s sex life with Torres, or Torres’s sex life with Robbins, she puts in a valiant effort, angry at herself for caring so much about this very broken man.

“Women are complicated. They’re... We’re... This isn’t a reflection on you, as a man, or as a husband. Well, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about your marriage. But sometimes women like men, and sometimes women like women, and sometimes they like both. I can’t give you more than that.”

Owen nods dumbly.

“Your kids?”

Owen lets out a sigh.

“I’m moving out. Booked a hotel room for a night. I told Allegra this morning, that Daddy was going to live somewhere else.” There’s a heavy pause. “She cried. I don’t know that she understood, but... She cried. And the boys... Gus and Gavin won’t even remember living with me.”

“So she’s just keeping them? She screws the Peds attending and-”

Owen shakes his head again.

“I’m having dinner with them tonight if I can get away. Tomorrow if I can’t. She says I can see them whenever I want. That once I get an apartment we can start talking about visits, and I can come see them at the house until then.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t even know if I should be able to see them whenever I want. I don’t know if I should be alone with them.”

Cristina takes a deep breath. “Then get help, Owen. Please. If you are going to be alone with your kids and you can’t trust yourself? Get help.”

Owen nods, clearly still in shock from the week’s events.

“I’m sorry, Hunt. You deserved better.”

“No, no. It’s not her fault.” He rethinks and rephrases. “It’s not only her fault. We just... fell apart.”

***

“Calliope,” Arizona beams at the familiar face in the door, hand already sneaking out to grab the front of her shirt and pull her in. “I definitely wasn’t expecting you tonight. Did you get Dana to stay late or something?”

She doesn’t wait for a response, leaning in to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along Callie’s neck. Callie moans and melts for half a second, then pushes her away.

Arizona looks up, stung.

Callie refuses to meet her gaze, eyes shifting around her apartment, hands shaking nervously.

“I left him.”

The blood rushes in Arizona’s ears. This means everything, or maybe nothing. This means... She has no idea what the hell this means.

“I told him. About us. He asked if I was leaving him, and when I opened my mouth what came out was... yes.”

“I don’t know what to do with that, Calliope.”

“What do you want to do with it?”

Arizona’s shoulders slump as she eyes the junk drawer where she keeps the most likely stale pack of Marlboro Lights reserved for occasions such as these. “I--”

Callie sighs. “I can give you some time to process, but I want you here. I want you in my life.”

“This isn’t a question of me being in your life.”

“Then?” Callie asks,  a heady, dizzy feeling hitting her at the words.

“It’s what we’ll do. Am I just supposed to hop in, feet first?”

"I don't know. It's not... I'm still a little lost, too."

Arizona runs her hands through her hair, dropping to her couch and cradling her head in her hands.

"Did you leave him for me?"

God, she wants a cigarette. She's not sure how she's going to adjust to the idea of 'homewrecker', but one look at the stunning woman sinking to the couch at her side reminds her that she will do anything, be anything, just to know this woman wants her. Just to keep on feeling her beside her, keep sharing the tiny details of her life. Calliope Torres, body and soul, is terrifyingly addictive.

“I think I was always going to leave him," Callie tells her. "Being with you just... sped up the process.”

Arizona nods and breathes in deeply. Callie presses on.

"Arizona, you showed me... You've made me happier than I ever thought I could be. Ever. And I know we've been in this pretty pink bubble but I... I have to believe, I have to try to be that happy. But if you don't want to be with me, I'm going to go through with this. Owen and I are over."

Arizona pulls her into her arms, holding on for dear life. She exhales a shaky breath over Callie’s shoulder, tightening her grip. She’s terrified, but oh so excited.

"I want to be with you," she swears. "It's just... I don't know what that looks like. Do we still keep it quiet?"

Callie pulls away, stroking Arizona's cheek warmly. "Do you want to keep it quiet?"

“I don’t care what people think of me. But... but what do we tell them?”

“I’m sure there are at least six versions circulating around the hospital already. We just--”

Arizona shakes her head, holding up a hand. "What about your kids?"

Taking a shaky breath, Callie nods her head, considering the question however loaded it may be.

“Well.”

Looking on expectantly, Arizona calms the shakiness in her hands by placing them within Callie’s.

“I have great kids, really, really great kids. And they’ll recognize the happiness you bring. They’re still so young...and...”

“Formative,” Arizona says flatly.  "What do we tell them?"

"The truth." Callie takes a deep breath. She can feel that this is it. This is her shot at happiness. "That you make me so happy that I want to spend all my time with you. Everything else we handle as it comes."

Arizona smiles a little at her admission.

"I like your kids a lot, Calliope, but I was never really into the kid thing."

Callie laughs and then realizes she's serious.

"You're a peds surgeon," she points out.

"I know but I never saw myself being a regular part of a child's life. Outside of making them smile as much as possible while they're under my care."

Callie raises an eyebrow, filing "peds surgeon that never wanted kids" away for later dissection.

“So... husband you could handle, but kids are a deal breaker?”

"No! I just... This is a lot to handle, okay?"

"Okay, okay. I have to go get them, soon, but I would really love if you would come over for dinner this weekend. Do you think you can do that?"

Arizona nods dumbly. She's only been to Calliope's house once, a staff party honoring one of Ellis Grey's many awards right after Arizona moved to Seattle. But while even then she'd noticed the hostess's exceptional beauty, she hadn't yet developed the insatiable attraction that had helped move them here. She barely remembers more than thinking, rather disappointedly, that the Hunts were an annoyingly perfect white picket family (back before she saw through the mask and fell in love with the real Callie Torres).

"Yeah," Arizona clears her throat. "I can do that."

Callie beams and grabs her hand warmly, squeezing. Arizona looks down, right tangled with left, and realizes:

"You took off your rings."

Callie blushes. "It... Yeah. Last night."

Arizona lifts their hands up, studying the finger in question, the divot where diamond and band had been a constant reminder of their wrongdoing, where precious metal had burned against Arizona's skin in all the wrong ways. But she never asked her to take it off. The mark will fade, but Arizona wonders if they'll ever get past the fact that it was once there. She's damn sure she's gonna try.

She brings the hand to her lips, kissing the sport where the wedding band once rested.

“Okay," she breathes. "Let's start with dinner. And we'll go from there. We'll just play it by ear."

Instead of letting Callie see the nervousness in her eyes, she leans forward and captures her lips in a heated kiss, pouring into it her promise to give all she can to make this work.

***

Arizona regards this first meeting as either going to go really well or really awfully. Maybe this would be the tell that led her to continue this or end it all. But here she stands, at the stoop of Callie’s expansive Tudor home. In one hand, a bottle of Pinot Noir; in the other, 6 cupcakes frosted to look like frogs on lily pads.

She knows her audiences.

The door slowly opens, revealing a beaming Callie with Gus (Or was that Gavin?) hitched up on her hip.

“Oh, it’s Arizona, Gavin! Look what she’s brought us! Cupcakes!”

“Cuppacakes!”

At the sound of dessert, Gus rounds the corner, holding a bulldozer in one hand and a monkey in the other. “Cuppacakes?”

With an easy “Hi, Sona,” Gavin squirms free from his mother’s arms to join his brother and the fun things in his hands, temporarily forgetting about those cuppacakes to examine whatever game he was playing.

“You look beautiful,” Callie smiles at Arizona in simple dark denim and v-neck cashmere sweater. She’s used to the suits and dresses at the hospital, so this is nice. Very, very nice.

“You’re always beautiful,” Arizona answers easily, but quietly, nonetheless honestly.

“Let me take that wine, and then if you’d just like to get the boys and have a seat we should be ready in a few minutes. The lasagna is just setting,” Callie seamlessly transfers the wine and cupcakes into her hands and turns, walking toward the kitchen.

Arizona’s stomach grumbles of its own accord. Lasagna sounds a lot better than whatever tasteless meal she’d whip up for herself at home. She takes a second to admire the place. Large, clean, but lived in. She didn’t think Callie would have a house like something out of Stepford, but nonetheless she certainly feels more welcome than she imagined. Almost like she is home.

That thought sends her nerves into a mild state of panic before she goes to search out the boys. They’re sitting in the next room, making dinosaur and monkey sounds. Each twin has their respective stuffed toy awkwardly seated on one of the Tonka trucks. Arizona grins.

“Hey, guys, can we park our trucks and go sit down for dinner?”

Both boys look up from their playtime reverie, glancing at Arizona curiously. Both stand obediently, if unsteadily, and smile at her. They’re fiercely cute. Callie’s eyes matched with that platinum blond hair they had to have gotten from their dad, which will most likely develop the strawberry hints in it some day.

With an unintelligible exchange of chatter, the boys head toward the kitchen, various degrees of “Mami!” and “hungry!” flying freely. Arizona makes her way toward the sound of giggling and finds herself in the kitchen.

Gus and Gavin are in their booster seats, eyeing the steaming dish of lasagna.

"Hot," Gavin reminds his brother who cosigns with an authoritative nod.

Arizona could watch them interact all day. It is like a little secret language they were privy to. She’s seen her fair share of it with cases at the hospital, but seeing it organically is something as well.

“Where’s Allegra?” Callie asks, glancing around the kitchen for her daughter.

“Bed?” Gavin supplies, shrugging his shoulders.

“Silly, it’s too early for bed,” Callie grins at her boy. “Hang on, I’ll go get her.”

Walking back out into the foyer, Callie stands at the bottom of the steps. “Allegra, sweetie. It’s time to eat. Will you please come downstairs?”

“No!” the voice calls from upstairs. “Not hungry.”

“Allegra,” Callie says a little more firmly, taken aback by the venom. “Please come downstairs.”

“No, I don’t wanna,” Allegra says defiantly.

Arizona looks to Gus and Gavin, who listen on with wide-eyes. They all shrug simultaneously as the sound of Callie’s feet ascending the steps take over the sound of Allegra’s almost-whiny tone. After a few moments, the sound goes to the descent, and Callie enters the kitchen with Allegra on her hip, the little girl’s face buried in the side of her mother’s neck. Arizona feels a pang of worry for a second; was Allegra acting out because of her? Or was this typical dinnertime routine?

“I want daddy,” Allegra muffles against Callie’s shoulder, and Arizona tenses.

Callie deposits Allegra in her seat. “Allegra, you’ll see daddy in two days. And then you get to go to the zoo!”

Allegra harrumphs. “I don’t wanna go to the zoo.”

Trying to seem as composed as possible, Callie eyes her daughter severely, brow arching. “Allegra, be nice. You remember Dr. Robbins, right?”

“Arizona,” the blonde corrects.

Allegra softens for a moment. “That’s a funny name.”

Callie laughs quietly. “I think it’s a pretty name.”

Plucking a piece of garlic bread from the basket, Allegra shrugs. “It’s pretty,” she decides.

“Thanks, I like your name, too,” Arizona beams while Allegra studies her curiously.

“Who’s ready for lasagna?” Callie asks, watching Gus and Gavin clamor for a piece.

With lasagna on their plates, the kids are quiet, and Arizona follows the chattering as much as she can. With their limited but still impressive vocabulary, the boys tell stories that one starts and the other finishes, disjointed things mainly about Dana, their nanny. Allegra rests her head in her hand, pushing lasagna around on her plate. Arizona can tell that this transition is hard on her. The girl doesn't understand anything of what’s going on around her, which in turn makes this even more complicated for Arizona.

When the meal is finished (probably one of the best homecooked ones Arizona can remember in years), Callie wrangles the boys over to the sink so she can wipe them free of red sauce before they’re off again. Allegra lingers, not having eaten one bite of her meal. She is old enough to contribute to the clean up, and dutifully (if not without a few huffs) puts away the parmesan cheese and takes her plate to the sink.

“Can I go play in my room?” Allegra asks her mother.

Callie slides a dish into the dishwasher as she straightens. “Arizona brought cupcakes, so don’t go too far.”

At the sound of the stranger’s name, Allegra eyes her again.

“Why is Arizona eating at our house?”

The million dollar question with no easy answer wavers in the air for a moment.

“Allegra, that’s not very nice. She’s our guest. We should always be polite to guests.”

Arizona clears the last glass from the table, setting it next to the sink for Callie to deposit in the dishwasher. She kneels down in front of Allegra.

“Your mom is really sweet and invited me over for dinner. Since I really can’t cook.”

“You can’t?” Allegra asks, as all the women in her life cook well. “How do you eat?”

“A lot of pizza,” Arizona nods. “And chinese. And other restaurants.”

“Well, I like restauraunts,” Allegra decides.

“And I really like lasagna,” Arizona reasons. “Plus, your mom’s lasagna is way better than any restauraunt’s.”

“Really?” Allegra asks, smiling up at her mom.

“Really.”

Allegra studies Arizona for a second before she reaches out to stroke her hair. “Your hair’s like Barbie’s.”

Callie laughs. Arizona Robbins is kind of Barbie-like in her own right.

“Thank you,” Arizona says proudly.

After a few more seconds of somewhat bashful silence, Allegra asks: “What kind of cupcakes did you bring us?”

Arizona grins again, dimpling. “They’re chocolate with icing that looks like frogs on them.”

Allegra gasps and then giggles. “I love frogs!”

Apparently all Torres girls are charmed by Dr. Robbins.

***

Callie walks Arizona to the door, making sure that her two large Tupperware containers are with her, and the rest of the cupcakes. She knows if they’re left here it’ll just be bedlam and sugar comas and fights over whose lily pad is the best.

“Thank you, again. This was delicious,” Arizona says earnestly, as Callie closes the door a hair behind her, so that she can still hear if anything falls, breaks, or is in general disarray but she still gets a good amount of privacy.

“Anytime. I hope you’re not scared off by the chaos,” Callie waves a hand toward the door.

“Scared? No,” Arizona laughs shakily. “Have you seen the peds wing?”

“But you said yourself that it’s different.”

Arizona sighs and nods. “It is. But they are beautiful and perfect, Calliope.”

Callie beams at the mention of them, and Arizona knows she could leave it there, but for the sake of this burgeoning new phase of their relationship she presses on.

“They’re confused. Well, Allegra is confused.”

Callie wraps her arms around herself and wrinkles her brow.

“I know. I don’t... That’s not her.”

“Her dad moved out, Calliope. Last week. And now there’s... me. And who knows what she thinks of me.”

“She adored you! You brought her froggy cupcakes. And you look like Barbie.”

Arizona laughs. “I’m new, and she... Maybe you just all need space.”

Callie looks stung.

“What does that mean?”

“Callie, you ended your marriage days ago. No, you decided to end your marriage days ago. Divorce takes time. I don’t...”

“You don’t want to be with me?”

“No! No, of course I want to be with you.” The quickness of that truth surprises her.

Callie lets out a relieved sigh and just smiles at her like she’s the most amazing thing in the universe, a little bit of misty brightness in her eyes.

“We just... We have to figure out the terms. We have to ease this transition for them.”

“Okay,” Callie grins, stepping forward to kiss her goodbye.

Arizona retreats the smallest bit, looking around.

“Your neighbors can see us,” she says softly.

“Screw them,” Callie shrugs, snaking an arm around Arizona’s waist and pulling her close. “Let ‘em talk. I only care my kids think of you, and you just passed the first test with flying colors and froggy cuppacakes.”

Arizona gives in, kissing her, though rather chastely. She’s always walked the line between “out and proud” and an aversion to PDA.

“I can’t believe I have to go all of tomorrow without seeing you,” Callie whispers as she pulls away.

The first squeals of play getting a bit out of hand come through the crack in the door, but not quite enough to drag Callie away yet.

“I think we’ll survive,” Arizona grins. “Lunch on Monday?”

Callie’s grin turns saucy.

“In the cafeteria, Calliope,” Arizona rolls her eyes affectionately.

“We’ll see about that.”

***

el fin