(no subject)
Title: Ready For A Fall (2/?)
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Pairing: George/Callie implied George/Izzie implied Callie/Alex friendship??
Summary: Sometimes the most unlikely people will catch you when you fall. And sometimes ... they're falling, too.
Part One: http://community.livejournal.com/ga_fanfic/546864.html
*~*~*~*~*~
Vinnie’s Italian Bistro was quaint. There was no other word for it. The walls were covered in murals that depicted Tuscany at it’s finest and the dark red tablecloths were crisp. It was an intimate setting and the fact that Alex and Callie were in the far corner, away from the restaurant hustle and bustle only added to the ambiance. That ambiance lasted all of ten minutes, however, because in the middle of placing their order, the karaoke machine was fired up. A short, round elderly man began to warble his way through a heavily accented version of ‘That’s Amore’.
Callie and Alex exchanged the same amused look as they completed their order in very loud voices to drown out the chorus. They didn’t speak again until the song was finished and then they clapped enthusiastically because the old man was staring straight at them. "Oh my god," Callie said. "Look away! He’s coming over."
The old man arrived, his belly preceding him, and grinned back and forth between the two of them. He patted Callie on the cheek and said, "You look just like my wife. She passed on in nineteen and seventy two and she had a smile just like yours." He gave Alex a knowing look. "This one? She’s a firecracker, yes?"
"Yes," Alex said. "She’s a firecracker."
"Can the firecracker sing?" the man asked, eyeing Callie.
"She can," Callie admitted.
"You sing?" Alex looked skeptical.
She nodded and shrugged.
"I am Vinnie Capozzi," the old man said, extending a hand to Callie. "Everyone can sing. Would you favor us with a song, Miss?"
"Callie Torres." She let him pull her to her feet and winked at Alex, who was watching her with his mouth agape. "Do you have Dean Martin’s version of ‘You Belong To Me’?"
"I have all of Dean Martin and then some."
Alex watched as the two of them stood together at the karaoke machine and then Callie was belting out the song with perfect pitch, with perfect tone, and the silence that fell over the bistro was astounding. Every eye was on her and the kitchen staff even hurried to the dining room to watch her. She soared over the notes, hitting every lick, sounding as powerful as she undoubtedly was and Alex was spellbound. He gave her a standing ovation, grinning from ear to ear as several people stood and clapped her on the back or shook her hand.
"Wow," he said, when she finally joined him again. "That was amazing."
"Thank you." Callie took her seat and drained half the beer that she had ordered.
"That didn’t scare you?" Alex joined her, still grinning.
"Why would it?" She shrugged. "Haven’t you ever done something just because you liked it? Something intimidating?"
"Wrestling. University of Iowa." Alex grinned at her. "This one guy was bigger than me, meaner than me, and had intimidated the hell out of me for months. I got pissed and pinned him within the first thirty seconds and shocked everyone, myself included."
"And it was worth it?"
"It was. I got laid almost nightly after that."
She rolled her eyes. "Too much information."
"I like to share," he replied. "I was big man on campus after that."
Callie listened to his tale as their food arrived. She immediately pushed it away. Alex had insisted that she order the lobster ravioli, but beer just seemed to make more sense to her so she ordered another, then another. She watched as he scarfed down half of his pasta, then shook her head when he belched loudly, startling an old lady at the table next to them. The old lady squeaked and dropped pizza into her lap, but Alex didn’t notice. He continued with his story, undaunted, and she had to grin a little. He was so unlike most men that she had known ... he was loud, rude, and insanely endearing.
Callie shook her head when he finished his plate of spaghetti. "Guys like you tormented girls like me in school."
"Girls like you?"
"Fat. Weird."
"I thought we already established that you are not fat." He sat forward, resting his elbows on the table. "What made you weird?"
"My family?"
"Elaborate?"
Callie peeled the label on her beer. "I was the loner. The psycho goth chick whose hair, clothes, nails, and lips were matching shades of black."
"Seriously?"
"The black hair kinda stuck around."
"I thought it was naturally black." He glanced at her raven locks, then reached out and touched a curl. "It’s pretty."
"Uh huh." She rolled her eyes a little, but smiled at him. "Did you terrorize the goth kids?"
"Yeah, actually I did."
"See?"
"I bet you gave as good as you got, Torres."
"You can call me Callie."
"Fine. Callie." He took a sip of his own beer. "Did you torment the jocks? Put voodoo dolls on their lockers? Cast spells?"
"Only one jock caused a blip on my radar."
Alex arched an eyebrow. "Do tell, Elvira. Did you break the ‘spooky code’ to hook up with a footballer?"
"Track and field."
"Track and field?" he asked, scandalized. "That’s the wasteland for people who can’t carry a ball and run at the same time."
"Ha ha," she replied. "He pursued me hot and heavy. I didn’t fall for him, didn’t let him within an inch of me, but it was nice to feel wanted. Plus, he knew who the Sex Pistols were."
Alex wrinkled his nose, then pointed at her Pirates of the Caribbean t-shirt. "It’s sacrilege that you know who Johnny Rotten is and still wear Johnny Depp on your chest."
"I’d wear him on the rest of me, too. He’s perfect." She grinned at him. "Depp is my first and only movie star crush."
Alex pretended to gag. "Why?"
"Because while Freddy Kruger was making finger blades look scary --- Johnny Depp made scissorhands look hot as hell." She finished off her beer and signaled the waiter, who hurried their way. "Ready for another?"
"Uh, Cal," Alex said softly. "Don’t you think you’ve had enough?"
"No."
"What was in the flask?"
"Whiskey. Straight up." She shrugged and asked for two more beers, but Alex declined. "Wimp," she said with a smile.
The waiter walked away and Alex took a moment to study Callie. Her eyes were insanely glassy, but her speech wasn’t slurred. Given the amount of bottles in front of her she should have been sprawled in the floor or at the very least - puking up everything in her stomach. Which was currently nothing. She hadn’t touched her food and that bothered him. He had overheard Addison telling Bailey that Callie wasn’t eating, which had prompted him to extend the dinner invitation. Now he was *involved* in Callie’s well being. Because now there was more to her than *Doctor* Torres. She was hurt and that bothered him. A lot.
When he heard her sigh, he looked back at her face. She was gazing intently just past them and he turned a little, locating what held her attention. A poster of ‘Bethany Whisper’, Izzie’s model alter ego, was attached to the side of the jukebox. It was ragged, clearly quite old, but it was there nonetheless. The poster depicted Izzie wearing sexy lingerie with an Italian backdrop. "Callie," he said softly. "You wanna go?"
"Why her?" she asked quietly. "Of all the women in the world ... why her? He had to know that she would hurt me more than anyone else. Little Miss Perfect. Little Miss Sunshine. I can’t compete with that."
The waiter arrived with the beer and Alex asked for the check. When Callie reached for the beer, Alex set it out of her reach. "We’re going. And by the way, no one can make you feel inferior without your permission."
Callie’s eyes swam with tears and she grappled for a napkin. "George proved that I was."
"George is an idiot. You can’t measure your self worth by a guy who cut his freakin’ hair like a hobbit." He grinned because she did. "And we are supposed to be actively avoiding all topics of O’Malley shaped proportions."
"Yes, we are."
The waiter returned with the check and Callie grabbed it before Alex could. She left money on the table, ignoring Alex’s protests. "Wanna take a walk?"
Alex glared at the money on the table, then back up at her. "I asked *you* to dinner."
"You are cheap, remember?" She smiled at him. "Stop arguing with me. I’ve argued enough with Addison. That’s my disagreement quotient for the month."
"You fought with Addison?"
"She thinks that she’s George’s champion and feels the need to count the ways that I should forgive him." Callie blinked several times. "I think I may be tipsy. Either that or this is a vibrating room."
"Kinky." He helped her stand and walked toward the door. "You’re a little more than tipsy," he told her as she staggered over a throw rug. "Be careful. Lean on me.
"Ooooh, do you want to sing that before we leave?"
"Hell no! I don’t even sing in the shower," he replied emphatically. "Just keep walking, Torres."
"Thanks for the company, Alex. And for keeping me upright."
"Anytime."
And realized that he meant it.
What the hell could *that* mean?
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie and Alex walked in silence until they reached a local park. Alex kept his hand firmly on her elbow, leading her, supporting her. The sun had set, but the park was awash in color and activity. He steered her toward the bleachers and they sat side by side as they watched extremely tiny little boys try to understand the rules of the game. It was amusing and the parents who shared the stands with Alex and Callie were very vocal, very aggressive.
"This is better than a movie," Callie said, then smiled when a particularly miniscule little boy attempted to pull a Babe Ruth and was rewarded by the ball bouncing off the top of his head. He howled from the pain and burst into tears. Callie half stood, worried, until the little guy began to laugh and pat his unruly hair. "Quick recovery."
"That’s what sports are all about," Alex said.
"Laughing despite the concussion?"
"Well, yeah," he replied. "Smile, laugh, embrace the pain, but keep on playing because you just might hit a homerun."
"Are you talking about the game right now or was that a sexual metaphor?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a preference?"
She grinned a little. "What would you say if I did?"
"I’d probably say your place or mine?" The Karev Smirk was firmly in place on his face, but when she saw the tightening in her jaw, it faded. "Hey, I’m just goofing around."
"Well, damn," she said, frowning. "Because I was going to say your place."
That took him off guard. He didn’t know her well enough to know when she was joking and or was being serious. And even if she *was* serious, she was also intoxicated. He had witnessed the aftermath of the drunken George and Izzie thing and he wasn’t interested in starring in his own version of it. "My place is Meredith’s house," he finally told her. "You probably don’t want to go there."
Callie glared at him for several seconds. "You’re living with Meredith? With Izzie?"
"Yeah," Alex shrugged, realizing from her tone that he had said too much. "But I’m rarely there."
"Why are you *here*?" Callie stood, feeling very much like the butt of a joke. "Did George ask you to spy on me? Did Izzie ask you to keep me busy so she could sink her hooks even further into my husband?"
"Paranoid drunk doesn’t become you," he said.
"Don’t judge me, Alex."
"Don’t judge me! In case you failed to notice I am on your side!"
"Why?"
Alex stood as well, taking her arm again. She yanked free and almost fell backwards off the bleachers. He grabbed her, half hugging her until she regained her balance. Instantly, she pulled away from him again and this time she made it down to solid ground without causing injury to either one of them. Callie stalked in silence back toward the road and then drew up short. "Why the hell didn’t you tell me that you lived there? Were you there when it happened?"
"I have George’s old room. I was trying to sleep at the time."
"I’m sure it was hard with Izzie screeching her triumph like a banshee in the next room."
"Actually, all I heard was George singing ‘Sexy Back’ at one point and Izzie drunk dialing Joe," he said. "I was wide awake worrying about Ava."
"Ava?"
"Jane Doe from the ferry crash."
"The pregnant one? With the mangled face?"
"She’s pregnant, but she’s even pretty with the mangling."
Callie stopped walking. "Alex Karev! Please tell me that she is not a female Denny Duquette!"
"What?"
"Do not fall for a patient! Especially a pregnant one whose husband is probably going to come looking for her eventually!"
"I am not falling!" he said. "I saved her life! I’m responsible for her."
"We save lives every day. Do they keep you up at night, too?"
"You know what? Bite me!" Alex told her. "I know my boundaries."
"Whatever." Callie shook her head and started walking again.
"Chill, Gothika." He nudged her with his shoulder. "I’m too busy falling for you and your black hair to even think of anyone else."
"Riiiiight," she replied, but grinned anyway.
Harmless flirting wasn’t such a bad way to forget your troubles.
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie figured her day could have been worse. Her hangover was not horrible, just a dull aching in her head, but her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth no matter how much water she sucked down. Still ... it could have been worse. Much worse. George had spotted her first thing that morning and made a beeline toward her, but Bailey had intervened and assigned him to a very long surgery with Sloan. A confrontation with him would have been enough to put a damper on the good mood that had carried over from the night before.
She finished the notes in her chart and paused on the breezeway inside the hospital, staring out at the approaching storm clouds through the floor to ceiling windows. One thing she could never get used to after growing up in Miami was the rain.
"Hey you," Addison said, leaning against the railing next to her. "I came by your room last night bearing gifts, but you weren’t there. Or by the looks of you ... you were passed out and didn’t hear me knocking."
"I got home late."
"Ooooh, you had plans? I’m jealous. I ate Ben and Jerry’s, yours by the way, and watched a marathon of Venom ER."
Callie checked her watch. She had nowhere to be, but anywhere would be better than the uncomfortable position that she currently found herself in. Fighting with girlfriends was not something she had experienced often. "I’ll see you later, okay?"
"No, it’s not okay." Addison caught Callie’s arm when she started past her. "When friends usually fight someone apologizes first. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m sorry."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Look, I’m not good at this kind of thing," Callie admitted. "I’m the friendless wonder."
"No, you’re not. You’ve got me."
"Addison-"
"I’m the one apologizing. All you really have to do is say that you forgive me, hug me, and agree to dinner." She smiled. "On me. Some place insanely fancy and overpriced so that we can dress pretty and pretend to be worldy or whatever."
Callie hugged her and felt instantly guilty about her evening with Alex. It had been harmless, totally and completely harmless, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to mention it. "You’re forgiven."
Addison sighed her relief. "I missed you! It’s only been one full day of you avoiding me and I feel like I lost my favorite bracelet."
Callie laughed. "I’m jewelry? What kind? Please don’t say that I’m a run of the mill tennis bracelet."
"You’re definitely an original piece." Addison beamed at her. "Guess what? Izzie’s hair is still green."
"I saw it while she was talking to George this morning, probably gloating despite her mossy up-do." Callie ran a hand through her own hair. She had taken extra time that morning to curl it perfectly and more than one person had commented on it. "So, whose your intern today?"
"Karev. In all his handsome glory." Addison shot her a knowing look. "He exudes sexuality without even trying. Oh! Speaking of sex, Mark and I are attempting to go sixty days without sex and if we succeed then we’re gonna try to make it work between us."
"What!?" Callie was scandalized. "The same Mark who you described sex with as a ‘hailstorm of misery and self loathing’?"
"That very one."
"Jesus, Addison. Why?"
"I’m lonely and he thinks he loves me."
"And what about this thing with Alex?" Callie asked innocently.
"The fact that you just called it ‘this thing’ proves that it was just a thought on both of our parts. Or at least mine. He made it very clear that he wasn’t interested." She shrugged, but the indifference that she was going for was not convincing. "I think he met someone. He has spent the entire day singing ‘You Belong To Me’ horribly off key with an ear to ear smile."
Callie had to grin. Apparently their ‘date’ was still on his mind and much as it had been on hers. "He can’t sing?"
"I’m sure the rest of him makes up for it."
A change of subject was necessary before Callie found herself agreeing. "You mentioned dinner. Will tonight work for you?"
"It’s short notice," Addison said, pretending to be put upon. "But I guess I owe it to you."
"Yes, you do."
"Callie?" George stood just behind them. "Can we talk?"
She glanced over at him and it shocked her how much it hurt to look at him. "No."
"Just ten minutes."
"No," Callie snapped. To Addison, she said. "I’ll call you later about our plans."
"Okay." Addison squeezed her hand and watched as her friend stalked away. "Leave her alone, George."
"I can’t." He chased after his wife. "Callie!"
She stepped into the elevator and crossed her arms, hoping the door would close before he could catch her. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen the way she planned. He shoved his arm in at the last minute and held her at bay while he hit the button to quickly close the doors behind them. "George-"
He quickly hit the emergency stop button and put his back against the control panel so she couldn’t access it. "Just hear me out."
"I don’t care. Okay. I can promise you that no matter what comes out of your mouth ... I don’t care."
"I love you," he said, looking at her expectantly.
"Bullshit," she replied calmly. "Anything else?"
"Callie, I made a mistake. I made the biggest mistake of my entire life and I’m sorry. I - I was drunk and I didn’t even remember what happened with Izzie until the next day. I mean - the first thing I thought of when I woke up was whether or not I called you the night before to apologize." He reached for her hand and saw the flash of silver when she pulled it away. He smiled with relief. "You’re still wearing your ring. That means-"
She took the ring off and held it out to him, her face impassive. When he made no move to receive it, she grabbed his hand and slammed it into his hand. "Anything else?"
"Please-" He reached for her, but she pushed him to one side and hit the stop button again, causing the elevator to begin it’s ascent once more. "Callie-"
Wordlessly, she exited on the fourth floor, leaving him standing in the elevator, clutching all that remained of their marriage in the palm of his hand. She should have felt lighter without the ring, but she didn’t.
She made it to the small chapel before the tears began to fall.
And the fact that Alex was sitting quietly in the front pew didn’t deter her from going down on her knees and sobbing for something that she never really had to begin with.
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Pairing: George/Callie implied George/Izzie implied Callie/Alex friendship??
Summary: Sometimes the most unlikely people will catch you when you fall. And sometimes ... they're falling, too.
Part One: http://community.livejournal.com/ga_fanfic/546864.html
*~*~*~*~*~
Vinnie’s Italian Bistro was quaint. There was no other word for it. The walls were covered in murals that depicted Tuscany at it’s finest and the dark red tablecloths were crisp. It was an intimate setting and the fact that Alex and Callie were in the far corner, away from the restaurant hustle and bustle only added to the ambiance. That ambiance lasted all of ten minutes, however, because in the middle of placing their order, the karaoke machine was fired up. A short, round elderly man began to warble his way through a heavily accented version of ‘That’s Amore’.
Callie and Alex exchanged the same amused look as they completed their order in very loud voices to drown out the chorus. They didn’t speak again until the song was finished and then they clapped enthusiastically because the old man was staring straight at them. "Oh my god," Callie said. "Look away! He’s coming over."
The old man arrived, his belly preceding him, and grinned back and forth between the two of them. He patted Callie on the cheek and said, "You look just like my wife. She passed on in nineteen and seventy two and she had a smile just like yours." He gave Alex a knowing look. "This one? She’s a firecracker, yes?"
"Yes," Alex said. "She’s a firecracker."
"Can the firecracker sing?" the man asked, eyeing Callie.
"She can," Callie admitted.
"You sing?" Alex looked skeptical.
She nodded and shrugged.
"I am Vinnie Capozzi," the old man said, extending a hand to Callie. "Everyone can sing. Would you favor us with a song, Miss?"
"Callie Torres." She let him pull her to her feet and winked at Alex, who was watching her with his mouth agape. "Do you have Dean Martin’s version of ‘You Belong To Me’?"
"I have all of Dean Martin and then some."
Alex watched as the two of them stood together at the karaoke machine and then Callie was belting out the song with perfect pitch, with perfect tone, and the silence that fell over the bistro was astounding. Every eye was on her and the kitchen staff even hurried to the dining room to watch her. She soared over the notes, hitting every lick, sounding as powerful as she undoubtedly was and Alex was spellbound. He gave her a standing ovation, grinning from ear to ear as several people stood and clapped her on the back or shook her hand.
"Wow," he said, when she finally joined him again. "That was amazing."
"Thank you." Callie took her seat and drained half the beer that she had ordered.
"That didn’t scare you?" Alex joined her, still grinning.
"Why would it?" She shrugged. "Haven’t you ever done something just because you liked it? Something intimidating?"
"Wrestling. University of Iowa." Alex grinned at her. "This one guy was bigger than me, meaner than me, and had intimidated the hell out of me for months. I got pissed and pinned him within the first thirty seconds and shocked everyone, myself included."
"And it was worth it?"
"It was. I got laid almost nightly after that."
She rolled her eyes. "Too much information."
"I like to share," he replied. "I was big man on campus after that."
Callie listened to his tale as their food arrived. She immediately pushed it away. Alex had insisted that she order the lobster ravioli, but beer just seemed to make more sense to her so she ordered another, then another. She watched as he scarfed down half of his pasta, then shook her head when he belched loudly, startling an old lady at the table next to them. The old lady squeaked and dropped pizza into her lap, but Alex didn’t notice. He continued with his story, undaunted, and she had to grin a little. He was so unlike most men that she had known ... he was loud, rude, and insanely endearing.
Callie shook her head when he finished his plate of spaghetti. "Guys like you tormented girls like me in school."
"Girls like you?"
"Fat. Weird."
"I thought we already established that you are not fat." He sat forward, resting his elbows on the table. "What made you weird?"
"My family?"
"Elaborate?"
Callie peeled the label on her beer. "I was the loner. The psycho goth chick whose hair, clothes, nails, and lips were matching shades of black."
"Seriously?"
"The black hair kinda stuck around."
"I thought it was naturally black." He glanced at her raven locks, then reached out and touched a curl. "It’s pretty."
"Uh huh." She rolled her eyes a little, but smiled at him. "Did you terrorize the goth kids?"
"Yeah, actually I did."
"See?"
"I bet you gave as good as you got, Torres."
"You can call me Callie."
"Fine. Callie." He took a sip of his own beer. "Did you torment the jocks? Put voodoo dolls on their lockers? Cast spells?"
"Only one jock caused a blip on my radar."
Alex arched an eyebrow. "Do tell, Elvira. Did you break the ‘spooky code’ to hook up with a footballer?"
"Track and field."
"Track and field?" he asked, scandalized. "That’s the wasteland for people who can’t carry a ball and run at the same time."
"Ha ha," she replied. "He pursued me hot and heavy. I didn’t fall for him, didn’t let him within an inch of me, but it was nice to feel wanted. Plus, he knew who the Sex Pistols were."
Alex wrinkled his nose, then pointed at her Pirates of the Caribbean t-shirt. "It’s sacrilege that you know who Johnny Rotten is and still wear Johnny Depp on your chest."
"I’d wear him on the rest of me, too. He’s perfect." She grinned at him. "Depp is my first and only movie star crush."
Alex pretended to gag. "Why?"
"Because while Freddy Kruger was making finger blades look scary --- Johnny Depp made scissorhands look hot as hell." She finished off her beer and signaled the waiter, who hurried their way. "Ready for another?"
"Uh, Cal," Alex said softly. "Don’t you think you’ve had enough?"
"No."
"What was in the flask?"
"Whiskey. Straight up." She shrugged and asked for two more beers, but Alex declined. "Wimp," she said with a smile.
The waiter walked away and Alex took a moment to study Callie. Her eyes were insanely glassy, but her speech wasn’t slurred. Given the amount of bottles in front of her she should have been sprawled in the floor or at the very least - puking up everything in her stomach. Which was currently nothing. She hadn’t touched her food and that bothered him. He had overheard Addison telling Bailey that Callie wasn’t eating, which had prompted him to extend the dinner invitation. Now he was *involved* in Callie’s well being. Because now there was more to her than *Doctor* Torres. She was hurt and that bothered him. A lot.
When he heard her sigh, he looked back at her face. She was gazing intently just past them and he turned a little, locating what held her attention. A poster of ‘Bethany Whisper’, Izzie’s model alter ego, was attached to the side of the jukebox. It was ragged, clearly quite old, but it was there nonetheless. The poster depicted Izzie wearing sexy lingerie with an Italian backdrop. "Callie," he said softly. "You wanna go?"
"Why her?" she asked quietly. "Of all the women in the world ... why her? He had to know that she would hurt me more than anyone else. Little Miss Perfect. Little Miss Sunshine. I can’t compete with that."
The waiter arrived with the beer and Alex asked for the check. When Callie reached for the beer, Alex set it out of her reach. "We’re going. And by the way, no one can make you feel inferior without your permission."
Callie’s eyes swam with tears and she grappled for a napkin. "George proved that I was."
"George is an idiot. You can’t measure your self worth by a guy who cut his freakin’ hair like a hobbit." He grinned because she did. "And we are supposed to be actively avoiding all topics of O’Malley shaped proportions."
"Yes, we are."
The waiter returned with the check and Callie grabbed it before Alex could. She left money on the table, ignoring Alex’s protests. "Wanna take a walk?"
Alex glared at the money on the table, then back up at her. "I asked *you* to dinner."
"You are cheap, remember?" She smiled at him. "Stop arguing with me. I’ve argued enough with Addison. That’s my disagreement quotient for the month."
"You fought with Addison?"
"She thinks that she’s George’s champion and feels the need to count the ways that I should forgive him." Callie blinked several times. "I think I may be tipsy. Either that or this is a vibrating room."
"Kinky." He helped her stand and walked toward the door. "You’re a little more than tipsy," he told her as she staggered over a throw rug. "Be careful. Lean on me.
"Ooooh, do you want to sing that before we leave?"
"Hell no! I don’t even sing in the shower," he replied emphatically. "Just keep walking, Torres."
"Thanks for the company, Alex. And for keeping me upright."
"Anytime."
And realized that he meant it.
What the hell could *that* mean?
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie and Alex walked in silence until they reached a local park. Alex kept his hand firmly on her elbow, leading her, supporting her. The sun had set, but the park was awash in color and activity. He steered her toward the bleachers and they sat side by side as they watched extremely tiny little boys try to understand the rules of the game. It was amusing and the parents who shared the stands with Alex and Callie were very vocal, very aggressive.
"This is better than a movie," Callie said, then smiled when a particularly miniscule little boy attempted to pull a Babe Ruth and was rewarded by the ball bouncing off the top of his head. He howled from the pain and burst into tears. Callie half stood, worried, until the little guy began to laugh and pat his unruly hair. "Quick recovery."
"That’s what sports are all about," Alex said.
"Laughing despite the concussion?"
"Well, yeah," he replied. "Smile, laugh, embrace the pain, but keep on playing because you just might hit a homerun."
"Are you talking about the game right now or was that a sexual metaphor?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a preference?"
She grinned a little. "What would you say if I did?"
"I’d probably say your place or mine?" The Karev Smirk was firmly in place on his face, but when she saw the tightening in her jaw, it faded. "Hey, I’m just goofing around."
"Well, damn," she said, frowning. "Because I was going to say your place."
That took him off guard. He didn’t know her well enough to know when she was joking and or was being serious. And even if she *was* serious, she was also intoxicated. He had witnessed the aftermath of the drunken George and Izzie thing and he wasn’t interested in starring in his own version of it. "My place is Meredith’s house," he finally told her. "You probably don’t want to go there."
Callie glared at him for several seconds. "You’re living with Meredith? With Izzie?"
"Yeah," Alex shrugged, realizing from her tone that he had said too much. "But I’m rarely there."
"Why are you *here*?" Callie stood, feeling very much like the butt of a joke. "Did George ask you to spy on me? Did Izzie ask you to keep me busy so she could sink her hooks even further into my husband?"
"Paranoid drunk doesn’t become you," he said.
"Don’t judge me, Alex."
"Don’t judge me! In case you failed to notice I am on your side!"
"Why?"
Alex stood as well, taking her arm again. She yanked free and almost fell backwards off the bleachers. He grabbed her, half hugging her until she regained her balance. Instantly, she pulled away from him again and this time she made it down to solid ground without causing injury to either one of them. Callie stalked in silence back toward the road and then drew up short. "Why the hell didn’t you tell me that you lived there? Were you there when it happened?"
"I have George’s old room. I was trying to sleep at the time."
"I’m sure it was hard with Izzie screeching her triumph like a banshee in the next room."
"Actually, all I heard was George singing ‘Sexy Back’ at one point and Izzie drunk dialing Joe," he said. "I was wide awake worrying about Ava."
"Ava?"
"Jane Doe from the ferry crash."
"The pregnant one? With the mangled face?"
"She’s pregnant, but she’s even pretty with the mangling."
Callie stopped walking. "Alex Karev! Please tell me that she is not a female Denny Duquette!"
"What?"
"Do not fall for a patient! Especially a pregnant one whose husband is probably going to come looking for her eventually!"
"I am not falling!" he said. "I saved her life! I’m responsible for her."
"We save lives every day. Do they keep you up at night, too?"
"You know what? Bite me!" Alex told her. "I know my boundaries."
"Whatever." Callie shook her head and started walking again.
"Chill, Gothika." He nudged her with his shoulder. "I’m too busy falling for you and your black hair to even think of anyone else."
"Riiiiight," she replied, but grinned anyway.
Harmless flirting wasn’t such a bad way to forget your troubles.
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie figured her day could have been worse. Her hangover was not horrible, just a dull aching in her head, but her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth no matter how much water she sucked down. Still ... it could have been worse. Much worse. George had spotted her first thing that morning and made a beeline toward her, but Bailey had intervened and assigned him to a very long surgery with Sloan. A confrontation with him would have been enough to put a damper on the good mood that had carried over from the night before.
She finished the notes in her chart and paused on the breezeway inside the hospital, staring out at the approaching storm clouds through the floor to ceiling windows. One thing she could never get used to after growing up in Miami was the rain.
"Hey you," Addison said, leaning against the railing next to her. "I came by your room last night bearing gifts, but you weren’t there. Or by the looks of you ... you were passed out and didn’t hear me knocking."
"I got home late."
"Ooooh, you had plans? I’m jealous. I ate Ben and Jerry’s, yours by the way, and watched a marathon of Venom ER."
Callie checked her watch. She had nowhere to be, but anywhere would be better than the uncomfortable position that she currently found herself in. Fighting with girlfriends was not something she had experienced often. "I’ll see you later, okay?"
"No, it’s not okay." Addison caught Callie’s arm when she started past her. "When friends usually fight someone apologizes first. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m sorry."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Look, I’m not good at this kind of thing," Callie admitted. "I’m the friendless wonder."
"No, you’re not. You’ve got me."
"Addison-"
"I’m the one apologizing. All you really have to do is say that you forgive me, hug me, and agree to dinner." She smiled. "On me. Some place insanely fancy and overpriced so that we can dress pretty and pretend to be worldy or whatever."
Callie hugged her and felt instantly guilty about her evening with Alex. It had been harmless, totally and completely harmless, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to mention it. "You’re forgiven."
Addison sighed her relief. "I missed you! It’s only been one full day of you avoiding me and I feel like I lost my favorite bracelet."
Callie laughed. "I’m jewelry? What kind? Please don’t say that I’m a run of the mill tennis bracelet."
"You’re definitely an original piece." Addison beamed at her. "Guess what? Izzie’s hair is still green."
"I saw it while she was talking to George this morning, probably gloating despite her mossy up-do." Callie ran a hand through her own hair. She had taken extra time that morning to curl it perfectly and more than one person had commented on it. "So, whose your intern today?"
"Karev. In all his handsome glory." Addison shot her a knowing look. "He exudes sexuality without even trying. Oh! Speaking of sex, Mark and I are attempting to go sixty days without sex and if we succeed then we’re gonna try to make it work between us."
"What!?" Callie was scandalized. "The same Mark who you described sex with as a ‘hailstorm of misery and self loathing’?"
"That very one."
"Jesus, Addison. Why?"
"I’m lonely and he thinks he loves me."
"And what about this thing with Alex?" Callie asked innocently.
"The fact that you just called it ‘this thing’ proves that it was just a thought on both of our parts. Or at least mine. He made it very clear that he wasn’t interested." She shrugged, but the indifference that she was going for was not convincing. "I think he met someone. He has spent the entire day singing ‘You Belong To Me’ horribly off key with an ear to ear smile."
Callie had to grin. Apparently their ‘date’ was still on his mind and much as it had been on hers. "He can’t sing?"
"I’m sure the rest of him makes up for it."
A change of subject was necessary before Callie found herself agreeing. "You mentioned dinner. Will tonight work for you?"
"It’s short notice," Addison said, pretending to be put upon. "But I guess I owe it to you."
"Yes, you do."
"Callie?" George stood just behind them. "Can we talk?"
She glanced over at him and it shocked her how much it hurt to look at him. "No."
"Just ten minutes."
"No," Callie snapped. To Addison, she said. "I’ll call you later about our plans."
"Okay." Addison squeezed her hand and watched as her friend stalked away. "Leave her alone, George."
"I can’t." He chased after his wife. "Callie!"
She stepped into the elevator and crossed her arms, hoping the door would close before he could catch her. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen the way she planned. He shoved his arm in at the last minute and held her at bay while he hit the button to quickly close the doors behind them. "George-"
He quickly hit the emergency stop button and put his back against the control panel so she couldn’t access it. "Just hear me out."
"I don’t care. Okay. I can promise you that no matter what comes out of your mouth ... I don’t care."
"I love you," he said, looking at her expectantly.
"Bullshit," she replied calmly. "Anything else?"
"Callie, I made a mistake. I made the biggest mistake of my entire life and I’m sorry. I - I was drunk and I didn’t even remember what happened with Izzie until the next day. I mean - the first thing I thought of when I woke up was whether or not I called you the night before to apologize." He reached for her hand and saw the flash of silver when she pulled it away. He smiled with relief. "You’re still wearing your ring. That means-"
She took the ring off and held it out to him, her face impassive. When he made no move to receive it, she grabbed his hand and slammed it into his hand. "Anything else?"
"Please-" He reached for her, but she pushed him to one side and hit the stop button again, causing the elevator to begin it’s ascent once more. "Callie-"
Wordlessly, she exited on the fourth floor, leaving him standing in the elevator, clutching all that remained of their marriage in the palm of his hand. She should have felt lighter without the ring, but she didn’t.
She made it to the small chapel before the tears began to fall.
And the fact that Alex was sitting quietly in the front pew didn’t deter her from going down on her knees and sobbing for something that she never really had to begin with.