Careful (Exchange gift for serenitymeimei)
Title: Careful
Author: Pagespan
Characters: Erica and Callie
Rating: PG
Callie_Erica Fanfic Exchange gift for serenitymeimei
Summary: Erica reflects on some advice given to her by a friend.
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. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not-for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual."
Nearly 8 pm. Fine. Erica finished dictating her final note for the day and was starting to clear her desk for the night when the phone rang. Not again, she thought. She checked the display and instead of the ICU number, she saw a familiar 212 area code.
"Don't tell me that second rate West Coast fleapit still has you walking the floors, Erica."
"You sound pretty cheerful about that, Jules. Where else would I be on a Friday night?" Erica felt a little more cheerful herself at that moment, just hearing the voice of her old friend.
"We're at the Oyster Bar on our third round..."
"Liar," Erica said, settling into her chair. "You are nowhere near Grand Central. You are doing the same thing I am and it doesn't involve eating oysters."
"OK, but if you were here, at least you and I would be talking about where we'd be drowning our sorrows."
"Maybe, if you were still a drinker." She stretched and took her shoes off. "Look, I've told you. The answer is no. I like it out here."
"Really? I've just seen Seattle Graces’s scores in the latest rankings and it's not pretty."
"Yeah well, let's just call it potential. We'll get there. I like the challenge and after we're out of the basement, I'll have some time to devote to the prevention series, do some fundraising. There's major money out here too you know."
Jules started laughing at this. "Really? So, maybe it's the scintillating company you're keeping?" Erica started to deny it, which of course didn't help. "You have met someone. Spill it."
"No, I just...I made a friend."
"Really? I thought you didn't have time for friends, what with the challenge of bringing Seattle Grace into the 21st Century and dealing with Richard and all. I'm sure he's a lot of help. No, Erica, I don't buy it. Tell me."
"OK, Jules, gotta go."
"At least tell me her name."
"Goodbye Jules." Erica hung up. Her. Jules had said "her name." Her. Name. How had she known this? Am I really the last one to know this about myself, she wondered? But there it was. Erica spent entirely too much time thinking about a dark haired young woman who was one of her residents. No, not one of her, residents as this one was part of the ortho service. Not one of her residents, but her friend. What was she to make of the other night, when the two of them were getting ready to go out on the town. Zip me up, Callie had said, coming out of her bedroom in a black dress that showed off her every curve. When Erica put her hands on Callie's shoulder and found the end of the zipper, Callie sighed and leaned into her with a breathy, "Thanks." Then shot her another one of those looks that were making Erica feel a little uncertain. Thrown off.
OK, Erica knew the woman was a flirt. Had seen it and had taken some pleasure in Callie's attentiveness, both in the halls of the hospital and after hours, especially when the flirtatiousness was directed toward her. Which it was, increasingly. It was one thing to vie for her attention at the bar, another to be standing right behind her, so close that she could feel her warm skin and smell her Aveda hair product. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be helping Callie out of that skin tight dress…pulling her hair up and out of the way of the zipper that was traveling downward this time. Leaning forward and burying her face in the downy hair in the nape of her neck. Feeling Callie ease back into her arms and stay there instead of giggling and moving away after a moment.
Jules had for years been insinuating that Erica was the last to know the truth about herself. Erica had brushed her off, saying, “Oh you think every woman is secretly gay. Wishful thinking!”
“Maybe,” Jules would say, looking her up and down and shaking her head. “Or maybe some people are just slow. And then it doesn’t matter how many men you’ve slept with. The truth will eventually come out. And then you will want to make up for lost time.”
Hadn't she offered Erica some advice? “I hope you pick well. That first one will break your heart. Don’t dwell on it. Just learn from it and move on. Quickly”
Unwanted advice, quickly forgotten at the time. What could it possibly have to do with her, Erica wondered again. She was always careful, wasn’t she? Even too careful? Maybe this place was starting to get to her. She was putting on her coat when the phone began to ring.
Author: Pagespan
Characters: Erica and Callie
Rating: PG
Callie_Erica Fanfic Exchange gift for serenitymeimei
Summary: Erica reflects on some advice given to her by a friend.
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. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not-for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual."
Nearly 8 pm. Fine. Erica finished dictating her final note for the day and was starting to clear her desk for the night when the phone rang. Not again, she thought. She checked the display and instead of the ICU number, she saw a familiar 212 area code.
"Don't tell me that second rate West Coast fleapit still has you walking the floors, Erica."
"You sound pretty cheerful about that, Jules. Where else would I be on a Friday night?" Erica felt a little more cheerful herself at that moment, just hearing the voice of her old friend.
"We're at the Oyster Bar on our third round..."
"Liar," Erica said, settling into her chair. "You are nowhere near Grand Central. You are doing the same thing I am and it doesn't involve eating oysters."
"OK, but if you were here, at least you and I would be talking about where we'd be drowning our sorrows."
"Maybe, if you were still a drinker." She stretched and took her shoes off. "Look, I've told you. The answer is no. I like it out here."
"Really? I've just seen Seattle Graces’s scores in the latest rankings and it's not pretty."
"Yeah well, let's just call it potential. We'll get there. I like the challenge and after we're out of the basement, I'll have some time to devote to the prevention series, do some fundraising. There's major money out here too you know."
Jules started laughing at this. "Really? So, maybe it's the scintillating company you're keeping?" Erica started to deny it, which of course didn't help. "You have met someone. Spill it."
"No, I just...I made a friend."
"Really? I thought you didn't have time for friends, what with the challenge of bringing Seattle Grace into the 21st Century and dealing with Richard and all. I'm sure he's a lot of help. No, Erica, I don't buy it. Tell me."
"OK, Jules, gotta go."
"At least tell me her name."
"Goodbye Jules." Erica hung up. Her. Jules had said "her name." Her. Name. How had she known this? Am I really the last one to know this about myself, she wondered? But there it was. Erica spent entirely too much time thinking about a dark haired young woman who was one of her residents. No, not one of her, residents as this one was part of the ortho service. Not one of her residents, but her friend. What was she to make of the other night, when the two of them were getting ready to go out on the town. Zip me up, Callie had said, coming out of her bedroom in a black dress that showed off her every curve. When Erica put her hands on Callie's shoulder and found the end of the zipper, Callie sighed and leaned into her with a breathy, "Thanks." Then shot her another one of those looks that were making Erica feel a little uncertain. Thrown off.
OK, Erica knew the woman was a flirt. Had seen it and had taken some pleasure in Callie's attentiveness, both in the halls of the hospital and after hours, especially when the flirtatiousness was directed toward her. Which it was, increasingly. It was one thing to vie for her attention at the bar, another to be standing right behind her, so close that she could feel her warm skin and smell her Aveda hair product. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be helping Callie out of that skin tight dress…pulling her hair up and out of the way of the zipper that was traveling downward this time. Leaning forward and burying her face in the downy hair in the nape of her neck. Feeling Callie ease back into her arms and stay there instead of giggling and moving away after a moment.
Jules had for years been insinuating that Erica was the last to know the truth about herself. Erica had brushed her off, saying, “Oh you think every woman is secretly gay. Wishful thinking!”
“Maybe,” Jules would say, looking her up and down and shaking her head. “Or maybe some people are just slow. And then it doesn’t matter how many men you’ve slept with. The truth will eventually come out. And then you will want to make up for lost time.”
Hadn't she offered Erica some advice? “I hope you pick well. That first one will break your heart. Don’t dwell on it. Just learn from it and move on. Quickly”
Unwanted advice, quickly forgotten at the time. What could it possibly have to do with her, Erica wondered again. She was always careful, wasn’t she? Even too careful? Maybe this place was starting to get to her. She was putting on her coat when the phone began to ring.