Someone Like You [1/?]
Someone Like You
Authors: camerashy06 & kennedysbitch (Team Couch Potato Chip Squared)
Pairing: Callie/Arizona, Callie/Erica
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer
Summary: When Gary Clark dies before he can reach his final destination, the future of Seattle Grace’s surgical team is unknowingly altered. Without a push to find their way back to each other, Callie and Arizona find their lives rolling in opposite directions. Nearly three years and half a world away later, circumstances find them crashing together again while old feelings begin to resurface amidst a host of new complications.
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Fall, 2013
The gradual change from summer to fall lit the city skyline on fire, transforming leaves to shades of amber and vermilion, crisping the air and bringing Seattle one step closer to Thanksgiving. Recreational enthusiasts of all ages and abilities were desperate to get in one last round of outdoor activities before the inevitable cold spell arrived, keeping the surgeons and emergency workers of Seattle Grace-Mercy West busy. Each day brought with it an assortment of broken bones, concussions, lacerations and burns, which meant that for someone like Callie Torres, this particular afternoon was unusually slow.
Callie was preoccupied with propping her head up on the desk in front of her, trying to blink away the boredom while Cristina Yang launched into another long-winded rant about Erica Hahn and the imaginary vendetta set out against her. Callie had heard it all before: how Cristina should have gone to Mayo or Cleveland Clinic, or even, god forbid, Canada for a better fellowship education. Never mind the amazing work she had done over the last two years or the chances she had been given to shine; Cristina’s leash was a long one (for a fellow of Erica’s) and she was making a name for herself in the industry. All Callie ever heard about was how Erica was a demon and Yang wanted to be a better cardiothoracic surgeon than her. Throwing two hotheads of that caliber together was a bit like nitro on TNT, in her opinion. No good could come of it, which meant she was constantly stuck in the middle.
Her thousand-mile-stare failed to deter Cristina, catching every other word and wondering when the phrase ‘cardio god’ would finally get old. Right now, Callie found herself wishing that she were a god and had ultimate control of Cristina's mute button. That would be neat.
“I don’t know who peed in her Corn Flakes this week, but I actually tried to be nice and she still yelled at me,” Cristina was saying. She was technically talking to Callie but more or less announcing her dissatisfaction to the entire floor.
“What’s your version of nice?” Callie said flatly.
Cristina wrinkled her nose and brushed the question off. “She’s suddenly decided that she hates me again. Why else would she refuse to let me in on the bypass graft? I helped develop that method for a month and now I’m just supposed to move on with my day and forget all about it? It’s a freakin’ joke, that’s what it is.”
Callie mustered up the energy to defend her girlfriend’s actions. That was what one was supposed to do in these situations, right? “Don't you think you should give her some credit? She’s the one who got you involved in her ventricular research and she got you heading up that double transplant last month. She’s just trying to-”
Cristina cut her off. “I’m not the one in a relationship with her, Torres. This whole ‘hot and cold’ thing is getting old. Why did she bother giving me the fellowship if she won’t let me in on some of the bigger surgeries?”
“Because she’s letting you run the department while she’s distracted?” Callie pointed out. Some days she wondered if Cristina was incapable of seeing beyond the point of her scalpel.
Cristina ignored logic in favour of continuing her rant. “It feels like a total waste of time being here when I’m getting freezed out on the good stuff. Did the Chief tell her to screw with me or something? Is this his idea of a joke?”
“Oh yeah, that’s Richard. I’m sure he had a gun pointed at her head the whole time,” Callie joked, staring into her hours-old coffee. She didn’t bother to point out that Erica was like this with everyone, not just Cristina. Callie had had her fair share of ‘hot and cold’ when it came to being in a relationship with the woman, especially in the last eight or nine months.
Yang narrowed her eyes. “Oh, shut it. Just because you’re sleeping with her doesn’t mean she’s not a sadistic bitch with a God complex.”
“And some people say the same thing about you,” Callie shot back. Her eyelids began to droop dangerously low. Boredom was slowly giving way to sleepiness.
“Interns don’t count,” Cristina argued. “They’re meant to be tortured. It’s better to weed out the duds early on than to waste precious years teaching them dead-end information.”
“You were an intern once too, remember?”
“Fortunately for everyone, I wasn’t a dud. I’m helping make a name for this place after years and years of epic, bureaucratic failure.” Slamming her chart closed, Cristina fixed Callie with a hard stare. “What is wrong with you? You look like you have radiation poisoning or something.”
“Sleepy,” Callie mumbled, her elbow sliding off the counter when she leaned into it.
“They have pills for that kind of problem,” Cristina mused. She lifted a finger and pointed at Callie’s chin. “Is that drool?”
Callie shot upright and swiped a hand across her mouth, horrified. Cristina just smirked. “Oh, bite me,” Callie sneered, taking a swig of her coffee and then abruptly spitting it back into the cup. “Gross.”
“I need you to take a look at this case,” Cristina continued without pausing. She shoved the chart into Callie’s chest.
The impact made her grunt. “Ow. Why do you need my opinion? You never want my opinion.”
“There's a reason for that.”
Callie rolled her eyes.
“Will you just look at it? It involves bones. You like that, remember?”
“I don't know what I like anymore,” Callie sighed, feeling a sudden bout of the Monday blues coming on. “It just feels like things with Erica are totally stuck, you know? We hardly even talk anymore. It’s like we’re holding onto something we wanted instead of what we actually have.”
Cristina abruptly held up a hand. “Okay, stop right there. I don't talk about feelings while I’m at work. Mine, yours, other people’s. It leads to ugly haircuts and buying a whole room's worth of furniture.”
“All of which were your fault,” Callie pointed out, shaking her head as she flipped open the chart. “Why am I looking at this?”
“The guy has an arrhythmia; he passed out and busted his shoulder. The Ice Queen has zero interest in a simple valve replacement, so she ‘kindly’ passed along the surgery I could do with my eyes closed.” Cristina looked bored at the mere prospect of it. “He’s scheduled for tomorrow morning, so can you pull yourself together and fix his equally as boring rotator cuff? Y’know, if your zombie brain can handle it. Otherwise I could go grab an intern.”
“Sometimes I don’t even know why I consider you a friend,” Callie grumbled. In truth they were a perfect match these days, both sarcastic to a fault and completely cynical about everyday life. Cristina was separated and nearly divorced from Owen, and Callie, well...her life had been less than peachy in the romantic department for almost a year now. It was hard to focus on the bright side of things, which was perhaps why their friendship had become stronger than ever. Misery loves company and Callie was making it her duty to help Cristina avoid an all-out midlife crisis. Plus, Cristina was the only person who really knew Erica as well as her. Her girlfriend was not big on making new friends.
She reluctantly straightened upright, popping her back and reaching for the phone. “I’ll order x-rays and get a resident to page me if it’s more serious. Should be able to wait until morning.”
Cristina’s pager beeped, culling any more snarky remarks. Her forehead scrunched in confusion. “Great. Speaking of wicked witches, Hahn needs to see me downstairs ASAP.”
Callie snorted. “Might want to plaster a smile on your face or she’ll put you on babysitting duty again.” She smirked until her former roommate suddenly grabbed her by the arm and hauled her around the desk. “Hey!”
“You’re coming with me,” Cristina informed her. “I’ll use you as a human shield. She’s less likely to firebomb the one she’s sleeping with.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “I think you might be doing something wrong in that department, by the way. Generally people are more cheerful when they’re getting laid.”
Callie yanked her arm away. “You are so lucky that I kind of like you. If you were anyone else, I would have broken you in two by now.”
“Good to know.” Yang checked her watch. “I want in on whatever surgery this turns out to be and I need you to distract Lilith so she doesn't bar me from the room.”
“Why the hell would she do that if she’s the one who’s paging you?”
“I don’t know which of her personalities made that call. For all I know, the other six could change their mind.”
They made their way down four flights of stairs instead of taking the nearby elevator, logic that even Callie didn’t follow. Cristina claimed that the small crowd of people milling around the door would be too much of a delay, and that by the time they reached the bottom floor, Hahn could have welded the door shut to keep her out. Dramatic, but definitely possible.
Cristina barreled into the exam room with Callie in sluggish pursuit. Her face scrunched in confusion at the sight laid out before her.
On the gurney was a girl no older than seven or eight, a fragile looking thing with no colour in her face and tubes protruding from nearly every vein in her arm. Hahn was too busy barking out commands at frustrated nurses to notice Cristina's presence right away.
“Great, a peds case and she’s in beast mode,” Cristina muttered under her breath. She turned back and almost ran into Callie in the process. If there were two things on this planet that she was not good with - and only two - it was children and her enraged boss.
The motion caught Erica’s attention. “Nice of you to join us, Yang,” she said loudly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Callie chose to stay in the doorway and block Cristina’s escape for her own good. “We came down as soon as we could. There was a backlog.”
Hahn glanced up briefly. “I don’t remember paging ortho for a consult, Torres. Though I’m grateful you managed to wake Yang here and see that she was on time.”
“You know, I can do a lot of things, but I can’t teleport from one place to another,” Cristina grunted. She took the patient’s chart from a resident. “She’s been your patient for four months, why is this is the first I’m hearing about her?”
“Because I didn’t need your eager little paws destroying the valve reconstruction Sloan and I did while you were on vacation.”
Cristina stiffened, doing her best to bite her tongue - and she was terrible at biting her tongue. “The first and only three day weekend I’ve taken in five years…” She gowned up and moved forward.
Still awake, the little girl seemed weak and frightened. “I want my mommy,” she whimpered, staring at the large number of people floating around her bed.
Hahn spared her a brief glance, then barked some orders at a nearby orderly to call upstairs for an MRI. If possible, she seemed even more intense than usual.
“Yang, since I assume I have your undivided attention, you can be the one to take her up,” Erica said, yanking off her gloves and tossing them into a nearby disposal bin. “Oh, and make sure her chart is updated for the incoming surgeon. I don’t need Webber up my ass about being unprepared.”
Cristina turned to Callie, fuming, but Callie countered by whispering, 'don't' in an attempt to stave off any further arguments. Given how worked up Erica seemed to be, conflict would only make things worse. For all of them.
“Yeah, fine,” Cristina mumbled. She wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but even Hahn rarely asked her to do a resident’s work. It was probably important. Cristina was just relieved she wasn’t being kicked from the case before she even got involved.
“I’m counting on you to get everything in order,” Erica added, fixing Cristina with a look that could melt stone. Coming from her, that was about as close to a vote of confidence as she had ever verbalized, even if it was done in a slightly scary manner.
Callie frowned at her partner. Something more than the usual work stress had to have riled her up. “Erica,” she started, stepping towards her now that she had handed over the patient. “What’s-”
“Not now, Callie.” Erica’s voice had a bite to it and for whatever reason, she would not make eye contact. She hardly even looked at Callie before brushing by her and slamming the exam door shut.
“Does she PMS all year long?” Cristina asked no one in particular.
Callie sloughed off the question with a half-hearted shrug. “Let's just say she doesn't like to share,” she sighed. It was a brain stumper when the last time she’d seen Erica smile was. Not in months, that was for sure. Today she seemed extra touchy.
“Apparently,” Cristina said. She moved to the spot Hahn had vacated and put her stethoscope to the patient’s chest. “Not even details like why there’s a kid on this table or what I’m supposed to be doing about it.”
Callie picked up the chart herself. “She suffered from Leukemia, underwent chemo and beat it three years ago.” Her brow furrowed as she skimmed further ahead. “Heart failure as a side effect of the treatment last year; the tissue damage was pretty severe. Erica and Mark performed a reconstruction three weeks ago and managed a temporary fix. She’s on the transplant list.” More flipping through pages. “Her mother brought her in tonight, shortness of breath.”
“Why am I only hearing about this now?” Cristina growled, exasperated. She whipped the stethoscope around her neck and flipped up the sides of the gurney, then beckoned two residents to get ready to move. “And what did she mean by ‘incoming surgeon’?”
“Webbers orders,” one of the third-year residents spoke up. “He said he’s flying in some doc from out east who’s working with a trial or something. Dr. Hahn seems pretty pissed about it.”
“You think?” Callie mused. Somehow she was less looking forward to going home tonight and more hopeful that a sudden orthopedic case would drop into her lap, no matter how exhausted she was. Then again, Erica didn’t exactly live with her, and if she was in a pissy mood it was more likely she would go home to her own apartment. Besides, staying late at work wasn’t really an option for Callie anymore. Some days she still needed to remind herself of that.
Amongst the chaos and confusion of an active trauma room, it suddenly occurred to Callie that everyone was talking to each other and no one was talking to the patient. One look at the girl and she could see how terrified she was, so she stepped over and took her hand, mustering up a friendly smile. A glance at her chart said her name was Allison. “I’m Dr. Torres, sweetie. You’re in good hands, okay? We’re going to move you upstairs to some machines that can take a look at your heart. Your mommy will be waiting as soon as we’re done.”
The girl still looked scared but she nodded and held tightly to Callie’s hand. “Okay,” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling with the effort of keeping a brave face.
“Cristina here is a really nice person,” Callie continued, shooting Yang a deadly glare just in case she felt like proving her wrong. “She’s the best there is and she’ll take really good care of you. I’ll go get your mom.”
Allison nodded and Callie was forced to release her hand as the residents rolled her to the door.
Cristina hung back for a moment, pulling off her gloves. “You couldn’t have lied and said that I’m mute but talented?”
Callie let out a brief chuckle. “Despite what you may think, you're not dead inside. Even when it comes to kids. I’ve seen you with Meredith’s.”
Cristina looked like she was about to lose her lunch. “Don't go all mushy on me. It looks bad for the both of us.”
“What about baby Bailey?”
“An exception to the rule.”
“Or there’s-”
“Another exception. It doesn’t mean I want to take on all the peds cases.”
“Kids have a heart and lungs, too,” Callie pointed out. “Just because you’re lacking the former…”
They exited the room and headed to the staff elevator they had skipped the first time around. Away from the chaos, Callie had a moment to think and replay the scenario over in her mind. Erica seemed really pissed about something and for once she didn’t get the impression it was because their relationship was on the rocks.
Callie fiddled with the drawstring on her scrub pants, unsure if she really wanted to ask the question that was on her mind. “So, an incoming Peds surgeon, huh? Any idea who?”
“Don't get your hopes up. It's not her,” Cristina said without looking over.
Callie scoffed. “I know that.” A beat of silence passed. “Are you sure?”
Cristina groaned at her friend’s persistence. “No, I don't know for sure, but why would the Chief fly Robbins all the way out here from Africa for a cardio case? That’s really far east. Besides, she’s probably already been eaten by a tiger.”
Callie twitched. “They don’t have tigers in Africa.” She scrunched her forehead. “I think.”
“She's not a cardiothoracic surgeon,” Cristina argued. She tucked the chart under her arm and fixed Callie with a hard stare. “It's probably some big shot from Hopkins or wherever that specializes in whatever the hell is wrong with this kid.”
Callie snorted and folded her arms. “A big shot cardio surgeon from Hopkins who you know nothing about? Really? I don't think so.”
“Whatever, I'm not a psychic. You want to know who's running this circus, go find out for yourself. I'm not your personal assistant.” Cristina checked her watch. “I've gotta go. Your demon of a girlfriend will find some way to fry me on this case even though she's not running it anymore.” She brushed by Callie and headed after her residents.
“Everyone is so cheery today,” Callie quipped, turning on the balls of her feet and moving in the opposite direction.
***
By the time flight 815 landed at Sea-Tac Airport, it was 2300 miles and seven hours of air time that Arizona Robbins really wanted back.
She hated flying, mostly because it upset her stomach and she had seen too many episodes of Mayday on Discovery Channel. She was calmer than most people with a fear of flying, but only because the fear was paralyzing and all she could do was stare straight ahead and hope the Gravol knocked her unconscious before they went down.
Apparently her luck was still sitting in Baltimore because her baggage was delayed - a side effect of arriving ten minutes before take-off. That meant all she had with her was a toothbrush and a deodorant stick that she’d stuffed in her carry-on, a pair of pajamas, and her hospital ID from Hopkins. It was irritating but not the end of the world; she’d just have to grab some spare scrubs from Seattle Grace for clothing in the meantime.
It was midnight east coast time and only 9:00 p.m. in Seattle, so Arizona was completely drained when her cab pulled into the drop-off area. There was a rock the size of Texas sitting in her gut, although she did everything in her power to push the nervous feelings aside when paying the driver and stepping onto the curb. She had skipped the hotel stop because she had no bags to check in, figuring that she could at least grab the patient’s information and spend the evening catching up on the case in her room.
“Thanks,” she called out as the driver pulled away, leaving her stranded with no other option but to go inside. She needed to suck it up and get this over with, like ripping off a very raw bandaid and jumping into a frying pan all at once.
Arizona squared off with the once familiar building it. It looked the same as she remembered, which wasn’t really surprising. Two and a half years wasn’t that long in building standards, it just happened to feel like forever for her.
She shifted her carry-on over one shoulder and marched through the front doors, immediately lambasted with memories of the good old days. She had loved working here before it became a source of pain. The sights and the smells were the same, the only differences she noted were the carpet in the main seating area and a new vending machine offering sandwiches in the corner. Other than that, it seemed just as it was the day that she left. Arizona didn’t know whether that was comforting or disconcerting.
Feeling jittery, she shoved those thoughts aside and walked onward. The elevator opened and she waited for people to get off before stepping inside and pressing the upper floor button.
“Hold the doors!”
Arizona automatically mashed her thumb on the arrow key and glanced up as none other than Derek Shepherd jogged in. She saw the surprise register on his face and quirked a teasing grin at him and his hair. “Fancy seeing you here, Dr. Shepherd.”
Derek flashed one of his signature pearly white smiles. “I could say the same thing about you.” The elevator closed and they started to move up. “How's Hopkins? I hear you're working wonders over there.”
Arizona's smile faltered. She didn't think anyone knew about her current stint, let alone doctors on the opposite coast. Her stomach rumbled. “It's good,” she said, shrugging. “I haven't really told anyone that I’m back in the US yet. How did you know I'm working there?”
“I found out a couple of days ago when I caught wind of the new trial you're working on,” he said. “I didn't know you were one of the doctors engineering it until I start digging around for more information. It’s quite fascinating.”
Arizona sighed in relief. Thank god. Callie couldn't possibly know unless Derek had gone off and run his big mouth. “It’s really exciting. I kind of can’t believe it brought me back here. It seems so long ago.”
Derek’s eyes sparked with curiosity. “Does Torres know you're here yet? She didn’t say anything.”
Arizona tensed. “No idea,” she murmured awkwardly. At least she knew that Callie still worked in the building.
The doors slid open. “Good luck,” Derek said, stepping out. “It’s nice to have you back, Dr. Robbins.”
“I'm not back,” Arizona called after him as the elevator shut and cut off her view. It continued the slow chug upward.
Her biggest hope was that she wouldn't run into Callie tonight. Judging by the pit in her stomach, she was definitely not ready to have that confrontation any time soon. It was a thing of the past and she’d moved on with her life, but there was enough crap on her plate right now without adding ‘awkward reunion’ to the list of things to worry about just out of the gate.
***
Callie was beginning to wonder if she was on the universe’s shit list when she was paged into an emergency surgery twenty minutes shift end. By the time she got out, it was already quarter after ten and she’d missed her favourite Thursday night television extravaganza. It usually amounted to an hour and a half of mindless entertainment before she fell asleep drooling on Erica’s shoulder, but still. It was her time to relax and now she was due back in a mere eight hours.
She hadn’t seen Erica since earlier that the day and she didn’t know if she wanted to. Things had been tense and less than stellar lately, with a total lack of sleep and working opposite schedules really taking its toll on their romantic life. She had no idea if Erica would be at her own place or Callie’s. If she was there, there wouldn’t be much more than a quick discussion of what time to set the alarm for.
Fun times.
A year ago, Callie really thought that she was destined to be happy with the path that she’d chosen. Now, given the way things were going, she wasn’t so sure anymore. Their relationship had kind of plateaued in recent months and suddenly things felt awkward. They couldn’t talk like they used to. Callie had been in relationships before where both parties simply coexisted and it never ended well. She tried not to think about how similar her situation with Erica was starting to feel, because one more failed attempt at love and she was going to get a major complex.
Deep down, she knew why things were exponentially harder between them, but it wasn’t something she could change -- nor did she want to. It was a decision she had made on her own and Erica had told her to go for it, they would work things out along the way. They were trying, Callie had to give them that.
Sighing to herself, she ended up changing in the locker room at the speed of a sloth before receiving a text message from Cristina. She debated trashing her phone and claiming she never got it, but Cristina was just as likely to track her down like a heat-seeking missile if she was pissed off about something.
Pulling it together for another ten minutes - maximum - of conversation before she shut down entirely was feasible. Callie picked up her purse, slung on her leather jacket, and went in search of Cristina.
***
The initial déjà vu wore off after an hour of running into nurses and former residents from Arizona’s time as the Chief of Pediatric Surgery. She convinced Anne, her favourite scrub nurse to this day, to grab her a few pairs of scrubs after explaining her luggage debacle. The response to her ‘dramatic’ return was overwhelmingly positive and she was starting to enjoy the miniature reunions. Her staff had been amazing when she was Chief of the department and she still wished she could lure half of them away to Hopkins when she went back.
Arizona busied herself collecting Allison Tanner’s patient files while she waited for Anne. As soon as the nurse returned with clothing, she planned on high-tailing it to the hotel to shower, eat, and fall into bed before getting up at the crack of dawn only to return. It was going to be a very long week.
“Dr. Robbins, I presume?”
Arizona glanced up to find a rather short, stout looking man glaring at her with probably the most unimpressed expression she had ever seen on someone she’d only just met. She would have been offended if he didn’t look like that was as pleasant as his face ever got.
“That would be me,” she said half-cheerfully. The exhaustion limited her perk. “What can I do for you, doctor...?”
“Robert Stark,” he replied curtly. Without pausing to take a breath or let her get out so much as a ‘pleased to meet you’, he rattled on. “I understand you’re here on an assignment for Dr. Webber. Let me start by saying that Allison Tanner has been a patient at Seattle Grace for many years now and that her situation is probably a little more complicated than you’re expecting.”
His tone sparked a flare of annoyance. Arizona knew when she was being talked down to, she was a woman running one of the most prestigious departments in the country and had her authority challenged on a regular basis. Coming from this short little weasel of a man, it was even more aggravating than usual.
“I’m aware of her prognosis,” she said evenly, indicating the thick folder in her hand. “Dr. Webber and I talked extensively over the phone about fitting her into the clinical trial. I can assure you I’ll be extremely thorough before diving ahead and performing any procedures.”
“That’s all fine and dandy,” Stark said just as dismissively, “but Dr. Webber is also more concerned about good press for the hospital than patient care. Dr. Hahn and I have overseen Miss Tanner’s treatment since her cancer diagnosis and I’m not convinced your presence here is necessary.”
Arizona bit back a snide remark as she was already tired and at the end of her rope. Instead she straightened and set Stark with an neutral stare. “I appreciate your concerns, Dr. Stark. Know that I am extremely capable at my job and I can assure you that I’m not the type to perform unnecessary surgery on a minor, least of all for publicity reasons.”
“What she needs is to be kept on the transplant list,” Stark cut in as though Arizona had never spoken. “Which I’m sure Dr. Hahn has already told you. We don’t want anything getting in the way of that. Remove her from the list now and UNOS might not hold her spot should this experimental treatment fail.”
Crossing her arms, Arizona lifted a brow. “I plan on having a long meeting with Dr. Hahn and the others involved in the child’s case in the morning. You have to realize that in her condition, given her prior chemotherapy treatments and the state of her immune system, a transplant would be extremely ill-advised.”
Stark opened his mouth and more words tumbled out, each just as condescending and frugal as the last. Arizona’s tired gaze happened to drift over his shoulder while she tried to figure a way out of this.
Almost immediately she spotted Callie.
Not even an entire length of hallway or the view from behind could mistake her for anyone else. The same long, messy curls were draped around her shoulders and the jacket was something Arizona would recognize anywhere. Callie was absorbed in a conversation with Cristina that involved lots of hand gestures and exasperated faces being thrown back and forth. Callie turned so her side was exposed, looking tired yet amused, that little half smirk twitching to break loose.
The air left Arizona’s lungs. She was caught completely off guard by a random surge of panic - surely she was adult enough to act normal, even if the butterflies in her belly said otherwise. It wasn’t as though she had spent the last two years pining and wallowing away her life. She had moved on, as she was sure Callie had. There had been no harsh break-up or heated exchange before she left Seattle, so there was no logical reason why she should suddenly feel like ducking behind the desk. Arizona chalked it up to her earlier assumption that Callie would be long gone for the evening and getting caught unprepared.
There was a little part of her brain that immediately thought Callie looked just as stunning as she’d remembered. Arizona actually started to smile once the brunt of the panic subsided.
“Dr. Robbins?”
It was the sharpness in his tone that made Arizona snap her gaze back to him. “I’m sorry, what?”
Stark huffed and crossed his stubby little arms. “The point I’m trying to make is, don’t get too comfortable. The FDA has yet to approve a clinical trial in pediatrics with the risks involved, so Miss Tanner may not even apply to the circ-”
Arizona cut him off, at her wits end with this guy and also more than a little shaken at the appearance of her ex-girlfriend less than a hundred feet away. “Dr. Stark, I understand your concern, but the FDA has also made one prior exception with a fifteen-year-old patient from Boston. It was the reason I was brought into this trial with Dr. McHale and his colleagues in the first place. Despite what you may have heard about its pending approval in Allison’s case, it’s all but a done deal once I examine her myself.” He tried to interrupt again and she kept going. “If I need you in any further capacity, you will be the first to know, but as of tomorrow morning I am taking over her case. If you have any complaints about my credentials, I suggest you take it up with the Chief of Surgery.”
Stark was fuming when he stormed away. Arizona was too fried to be happy as she gathered her things and tucked Allison’s files into her bag. After the week she’d had, she could use a little victory, especially given his childish antics. The last thing she wanted was another complication thrown into the mix.
Her eyes were involuntarily drawn back to the end of the hallway now that she was alone again. Her painstakingly beautiful ex-girlfriend was still standing there, oblivious to Arizona, looking exactly the same as she had two and a half years ago. The memories were overwhelming and she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away. Not even several very hectic years apart could have prepared Arizona for how hard it hit her the moment she lay eyes on Callie again.
Down the hall, Cristina was busy whining. “Please?”
“You paged me here to ask me for a drink, after I’ve already been stuck at work for an extra two hours?” Callie demanded. “You get that I have a very complicated life these days, right?” She had surpassed annoyed several minutes ago and gone on to tired and cranky. Her feet hurt and she had an ungrateful, unsocial, uncooperative girlfriend, possibly at home and asleep in her bed. She didn't have time for Cristina's shenanigans.
The cardio surgeon let out a frustrated puff of air. “Come on. Don't make me beg. It's not my thing.”
Callie let her head fall into her hands. “Cristina, I am tired. I had three back-to-back-to-back surgeries today. I don't need alcohol sloshing around and melting my brain. Not to mention I have other things to worry about.”
“Drinking will help you sleep better.” Now Cristina was grasping at straws. She just really needed to blow off some steam and Meredith was still on maternity leave.
Callie briefly raised her line of sight. “Are you driving me back after?”
“No,” Cristina snorted. “You live like four blocks away. Walk.”
“Then no,” Callie said flatly, throwing her purse over her shoulder and re-adjusting her jacket in preparation to leave.
“When is the last time I ever begged you to hang out with me?” Cristina whined, physically blocking Callie from leaving. “C’mon. Mer is piled up to her eyeballs in poopy diapers, Alex is gone, and everyone else here sucks. One drink, that’s all I’m asking. I don’t want to talk about boys or surgery or anything not named Tequila.”
Callie arched an eyebrow. “You sound like you’re trying to ask me out on a date, Cristina. No.” She tried to step around the irritatingly persistent woman.
Cristina shifted with her. “Shut up and come with me. You can’t honestly say you want to go home to the She-Devil. You must be dying for a night off.”
“Again, I can’t just take off for all-nighters anymore,” Callie argued, pinching the bridge of her nose. She dropped her hand away in exasperation. “Why can’t you just-”
Mid-sentence, Callie spotted Arizona. Before her brain even registered who was looking at her, she just knew - the blonde hair, bright eyes and perfect dimples were only a confirmation.
Holy shit.
The name died on her lips. Stupefied, she stared back.
Arizona recognized the same confusion registering on Callie’s face that she had been feeling moments before. At least she’d had more of a heads up, unlike Callie, judging by how floored she was.
Running into an ex was never fun but Callie had always been more than that. Before or since their split, Arizona had never loved anyone the way she loved Callie back then. The last memory she had of her on that rooftop didn’t compare to seeing her in person right now. She looked stunning.
Arizona finally managed a faint smile and lifted her hand in acknowledgement. It was the best she could manage under the circumstances. Her feet remained rooted to the spot.
Callie’s breath hitched. She was positive that the astonished expression plastered to her face was not an attractive one, but she was having a little trouble separating the rush of emotions. Her expression was the least of her worries. She totally blanked on how to respond and opted for a weak, upward tweak of her lips that one could almost categorize as a smile.
Callie took an automatic step towards Arizona, only to be brought back to her immediate surroundings by the incessant snapping of Cristina's fingers in her face.
“Hello? Earth to Torres!” Lacking acknowledgment, Cristina huffed at her. “I just broke all of the bones in my body. Bones. Broken. Really broken. Snapped in half. Pieces everywh--” She drifted off, continuing her snapping fit before the other woman swatted her hand away.
“What?” Callie barked, dragging her attention to the more annoying problem directly in front of her. “What do you want?”
“Alcohol,” Cristina deadpanned. “D’uh.”
Callie closed her eyes and gave her head a swift shake. “No, look, I-I gotta go. I can’t, I’m sorry. Maybe next time.” Without any more of an explanation, she turned around and booked it around Cristina, almost before she even gave her feet permission to move.
This time it was in the opposite direction, leaving both Cristina and Arizona stunned. Cristina threw up her arms in defeat and skulked away without spotting the reason for Callie’s departure.
Down the hall, another sinkhole was forming in Arizona’s stomach. Seeing Callie take off at the speed of light was hardly a boost to her confidence. She was pretty sure the shock and horror on the other woman’s face was a good indication of how the rest of this visit was destined to go. Apparently it had been too much to hope for a friendly reunion.
She wondered if Callie was mad that she left without saying goodbye in the end. It was a long time ago but it was still a cowardly move, Arizona knew that much. At the time she just couldn’t stand the thought of having a long and drawn out farewell after their last conversation had been painful enough on its own. She’d taken the easy way out and disappeared after her final shift, forgoing goodbyes and rationalizing it with her hectic, last-minute schedule before take-off.
“Dr. Robbins?”
Shaking herself back to reality, Arizona smiled at Anne while accepting the pile of clean scrubs handed her way. “Thank you,” she said earnestly, tucking them into her carry-on alongside everything else. The bag was starting to weigh more than she did.
After a few more pleasant ‘goodbyes’ and ‘nice to see you agains’, all the while keeping an eye out for Callie, Arizona trekked back to the taxi zone outside. Right now she would pay a year’s salary if there was a cab already waiting that could take her somewhere with a warm shower and comfy bed.
Regardless of what happened from here on out, Arizona had her patient and the trial to focus on. Allison Tanner didn’t have any skeletal or muscular problems, so a crossover with orthopedics was almost a guaranteed impossibility.
Of course, nothing in Arizona’s life was ever quite that simple.
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