(no subject)
Title: Ready For A Fall (30/?)
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Rating: NC17 majorly
Pairing: Addison/Mark, Callie/George, Callie/Alex, George/Izzie, Meredith/Derek
Summary: Sometimes it hurts to fall, but if you're lucky someone may catch you. And they may be falling, too.
A/N: That sound you just heard was a big sigh of relief. I am so glad this chapter is finished. ;) Now the storyline that I have planned since day one is actually on its way!
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty One
Twenty Two
Twenty Three
Twenty Four
Twenty Five
Twenty Six
Twenty Seven
Twenty Eight
Twenty Nine
*~*~*~*~*~
Inside my skin
There is this space
It twists and turns
It bleeds and aches
Inside my heart
There's an empty room
It's waiting for lightning
It's waiting for you
I am wanting and
I am needing you
To be here
Inside the absence
Of fear
- Jewel
*~*~*~*~*~
Alex changed into his scrubs in the locker room and lingered for a few minutes to talk to Meredith and Cristina. Neither of them had seen Callie that morning and she had not answered his page. He called and left a generic voice mail and then noticed that Cristina was watching him. "What?" he snapped.
"Trouble in paradise?" she asked.
Alex glanced at George, who had his back to him, and nodded. "A little."
"Are you sure she’s working today?"
"I know she’s here. I saw her car."
George shut his locker and turned around, facing Alex. "She’s either on the roof or in the basement. Those are her ‘thinking places’ as she likes to call them. If she’s worried about something she’s probably on the roof. If she’s trying to hide from the world she’s in the basement."
With a nod, Alex walked past him. "Thanks."
"That was very decent," Meredith said, patting George on the back.
"It’s not decent. He smiled when I asked if there was trouble." Cristina adjusted her stethoscope. "Karma already took a bite out of you once, Bambi. Next time it will emasculate you."
*~
Alex checked the roof first and as luck would have it, she was leaning against the railing, a cup of coffee in her hand. Her hair was whipping frantically in the wind and she wasn’t wearing a jacket. Neither was he and he was shivering by the time he made it across the helipad. He stepped up beside her and gripped the rail. She glanced at him and he saw the look of exasperation on her face before she quickly looked away. It infuriated him. "Callie, come inside. It’s cold out here."
"I’m not cold."
"Then why are your lips blue?"
"I’ll be in soon."
His teeth chattered. "I’m freezing, Gothika. Don’t make me wait you out."
"Go inside."
"Not happening." He touched her arm. "Talk to me."
She continued to gaze at the approaching storm clouds. It always stormed in Seattle, but the clouds were different today, darker, rolling across the sky at an unbelievable rate. "It looks like the outer bands of a hurricane," she said offhand. "It reminds me of home."
"It looks like tornado weather in Iowa." He looked up at the sky, frowning. "But it’s too cold. Will you please come and talk to me?"
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Why you left me this morning."
She finally turned, her eyes on his. "Do you ever think about the future?"
He nodded. "All the time since you."
"How far into the future do you think we’ll have to get before you learn to trust me?"
The chill was gone from him in an instant. "I trust you."
"No. No, you don’t. I think - I think maybe you never will. Maybe it’s because you know that I’m impulsive and left someone for you so you think I’ll do the same thing to you. Or maybe it’s because my mother told you all about how my passport had every page stamped before I was eighteen. I don’t know. I just know that it really hurts and I don’t know if I can do it indefinitely." She bit her bottom lip. "So, if you could tell me what I need to do to change it or give me a time frame or something, anything, that would be really fucking great."
Alex felt like his bottom jaw had hit the ground. "Where the hell is this coming from? I came back, Callie. If I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t have."
Callie put both hands on her coffee cup. Her fingers were numb. Her entire being was numb. "When we were sailing back from Alcatraz on the ferry ... you just assumed that I was going back to George. The night of the party, on the roof of the Archfield, you assumed that you couldn’t catch me, that I’d fly from you at the first sign of a problem. Last night you told me that I betrayed you and you left me." She looked back out at the clouds and shook her head. "And I did betray you ... because I lied to you, but that’s not what you meant, Alex. You thought that I had done something with George."
"No, I didn’t. I thought that -"
"How can you expect me to catch *you* if you won’t trust me with the landing?"
"Trust is a two way street, Callie! If you trusted me as much as you’d like me to believe then you would have told me about your damn lunch date! Before it happened!" Alex shoved his hands in his pocket. "And I told you about my mother! I can’t help it if I have a few issues with -"
"Don’t use that as a crutch," she replied. "We have to stop living our past, Alex. I’m not your mother. And you’re not George. I’m not going to leave you and I don’t think you would ever be unfaithful to me. I believe you when you tell me that you love me and I need you to believe me, too. You have to believe me for this to work."
"I came back!"
"You still left!"
Callie’s pager went off and she sighed, pulling it from the clip on her waistband. Alex’s went off two seconds later and they both headed for the door. He opened it and the second they were safely inside the stairwell, he pushed her back against the wall. "Alex," she said. "That page was -"
"You want to know what I see in the future? I see us getting married and having kids and twenty years from now, hell, fifty years from now if I’m lucky enough to be alive ... you will still be the woman who makes me forget every woman I’ve ever known. I told George that same thing the day your parents came and I meant it. That’s what I see and I *trust* that we can do it, Callie. We can have that life. I believe in you. I trust in *us*. We’re going to make mistakes and we’re going to hurt each other, but we’ll get through it because we *are* us and I can’t fail with you." He hugged her, his hands tangling in her windblown hair. "I will never leave you again."
She had begun to cry halfway through his speech. "When I saw your bags this morning in the living room ... it felt like I was dying all over again. I need you, you know?"
"I do know." He hugged her. "I need you, too."
Callie clung to him, shivering now from being outside for so long. He kissed her neck, her cheek, and finally her mouth. It warmed her almost instantly, his tongue against hers. She tasted her tears and something else.
She tasted hope.
When her pager sounded for the second time, they pulled apart and she smiled at him as she dried her face. "What are you doing for lunch?"
He raised a brow, smirking at her. "Maybe we could visit the on call room?"
"Maybe." She kissed him one last time and they headed for the elevator hand in hand. Once they were inside, she said, "Do me a favor?"
"Okay."
She sniffled. "When you unpack tonight ... burn your bags."
Laughing, he hugged her. "When I unpack tonight ... you can burn my bags."
*~*~*~*~*~
The on call room proved to be an impossibility. Trauma after trauma rolled in for most of the day. A multi-car pileup on the highway filled Seattle Grace to capacity and Callie found herself scrubbing into one surgery after another. It was after six p.m. before she had a chance to look at her watch. She had not eaten or drank more than a few sips of water in between the ORs the entire day. Exhausted and with the worst back ache of her entire life, she headed to Chief Webber’s office and was relieved to see the man was sitting behind his desk.
She knocked on his open door and smiled at him. "Do you have a minute?"
"Certainly." He motioned for her to join him and wrote something in the chart he had been working on. After she closed the door and took the seat across from him, he said, "We’re working on DNA matchups for four different families who have come forward regarding our Jane Doe and we’ve discounted over a hundred others who had improbable blood types."
"It’s sad, isn’t it? Over a hundred families have no idea where their daughter is and came to us for a little bit of hope." A sudden look of wonder and comprehension crossed her features. She had done the same thing to her family dozens of times. She had done it to George and Addison, too. She rubbed her neck and closed her eyes.
Webber watched her closely, then took his glasses off. He laced his fingers on top of the desk and regarded her. "What’s on your mind, Dr. Torres?"
"How did you know that you had a problem with alcohol?" she asked bluntly.
Richard clenched his hands a little tighter, then leaned his elbows on the desk. "Because I thought about it all the time. I wanted it all the time."
"What if you only wanted it when you were unhappy?"
"It’s the same thing. It means that you rely on something other than yourself and that’s a very bad idea."
They sat quietly for several seconds. She looked at the wall and he looked at her. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "My offer still stands, Callie. If you’d like to go to a meeting with me that would be fine."
"I’m scared."
"Of what?"
"I think about drinking every time something upsets me. I don’t just think about the happy buzz. I think about drinking until I’m not aware of anything around me." She met his eyes. "I think about drinking until I don’t wake up again."
"I know," Richard said. "I don’t fool as easily as Dr. Gellar. I knew it the morning after you almost died. I examined you. I talked to you. I listened very hard to the things you weren’t saying. And I listen just as hard to the people at AA who actually admit it outright. You’re not the only person who has tried to find answers in the bottom of a bottle and you won’t be the last. All you can be is okay. You have to decide to be okay, though."
"When’s the next meeting?"
"I’m going tomorrow. During lunch."
Callie’s eyes widened a little. "That soon, huh?"
"You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to do anything except listen. You’ll be surprised, I think." He picked up his glasses again and slipped them on, regarding her over the top of them. "By the way, you’ve done a wonderful job generating funds for the clinic. The donation hotline has been ringing off the hook."
"I guess I can do some things right."
"When you knocked on my door just now you were doing something right. And huge. You admitted that you have a problem to me." He saw her mouth open and he shook his head. "Admitting it to yourself is the next step and maybe that won’t come tomorrow or next week or next month, but you took a step in the right direction. So I think you do a lot of things right."
"Thank you. For everything. This goes beyond what a Chief would -"
He smiled at her. "You think I became Chief on surgical skill alone? I know people. And you’re going to be just fine."
Callie got to her feet. "I’ll see you tomorrow."
"I’ll expect you to give me a ride to the meeting. I’ve seen that little Mercedes you’ve been driving and I’m dying to see the inside."
"Yes, sir."
"Goodnight, Dr. Torres."
"Goodnight, Chief."
*~*~*~*~*~
"You can die from too much sex, Mark."
Mark gently let Addison’s feet slide back to the floor and nuzzled her neck. She had been attempting to cook dinner, wearing just his white button down shirt, and it had been too much. He had taken her on the counter which caused her to burn the roast she had been nurturing all day. He had taken her again, this time on the sofa, while they waited for their pizza and as soon as she finished off her third slice, he had pinned her against the hallway wall.
He watched as she righted the shirt that was dwarfing her and smiled when she took a step. He didn’t have to wonder why she looked bowlegged. He had felt how sticky she was and considering that her legs had not been closed for more than a few of the past twelve hours, he knew exactly what was going on. "You want a massage?"
"No. You and your hands need to stay very far away from me for a while."
"Just my hands?"
"Shut. Up. I want a hot bath and for you to wear pants to bed!" She turned and watched him pull up his boxer shorts. "And nothing silk!"
"You like silk."
"I like walking more. If this keeps on I’ll need one of those rings to sit on. Too much of a good thing is -"
"I’m just giving you what you’ve been begging for, Addison."
"I have spent the better part of the day in positions that I didn’t know existed. I watched you in those mirrors until noon and then we finally came here and -"
"You came several more times."
"Where are the towels we bought?"
"I’ll get them." He followed her into the bathroom and enjoyed the view when she leaned over the bathtub, putting the stopper in place. The round globes of her naked backside peeking from under the shirt made his mouth water. "Addy?"
She looked at him fast and pulled the shirt down. "No. Absolutely not. My business hours are over today."
"Thank you for moving in with me and for giving me another chance and for ... being you. I love you."
"Damn it. Do you really have to say things like that?" She unbuttoned the shirt and let it fall to the floor. "If you go get the freakin’ towels you can take a bath with me."
"I’ll take a bath with you if you ask Torres to borrow her handcuffs again."
"Oh dear God. I’ve created a monster."
They soaked in the tub for close to an hour. When Addison declared that they had pruned enough, they rinsed off and headed into their bedroom. She looked at the clock and said, "It’s not even eight p.m. yet!"
"Which means we have a while."
"Which means that we’re just in time to watch the new episode of ‘House’ and at nine there’s a new ‘Venom ER’."
"So we’re watching television?" Mark watched her fluff the pillows on the bed and scratched the side of his head. "That’s what we’re gonna do?"
"People who live together don’t have sex and eat all day long."
"We did that in New York."
She crawled under the cover and patted the bed. "Coming?"
"I’ll be right back."
Addison was nestled beneath the cover when he returned a few minutes later. She saw what he was carrying and grinned, pushing herself into a sitting position. "Ooooh, ice cream! Tell me it’s Cherry Garcia and -"
He turned the container of ice cream so she could see that it was indeed what she craved. He slipped in beside her and skimmed a little off the top with his finger. Holding it up, he said, "Ooops, I forgot the spoon. Want some?"
Addison narrowed her eyes at him. "Mark-"
Shrugging, he licked the dessert from his finger and scooped up a little more. Grinning devilishly, he reached over and smeared it on Addison’s arm. She said his name again and he tried to look innocent as he leaned over and kissed it off her skin. Easing the cover down, he exposed her naked breasts and held up the container, turning it toward her so that her nipple dipped into the ice cream. She cried out at the cold and he leaned forward, sucking and licking until the dusky peak was clean and warm.
"Looks like I don’t need a spoon." He moved across her legs, trapping them. "Wanna play?"
"Play what?" she growled.
"I can show you why you don’t need a spoon either."
Addison saw that his cock was full and erect. "It *is* my favorite ice cream."
Between them, they ate the entire container.
And they wound up showering again.
Twice.
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie held her breath when she opened the garage doors. Even though Meredith had given her a message from Alex telling her he’d see her at home ... part of her believed that his vehicle would not be there. That he would not be there. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that both of his SUV’s were in their proper spot and she leaned her head forward, resting it on the steering wheel. A majority of the tension that was clinging to the muscles of her back and neck dissolved immediately.
She jumped a while later when someone tapped on her window. She glanced up at Leon and shut off her engine. "Hi," she told the man as she stepped from the car.
"You ought not to let your engine run in the garage, ma’am," he told her. "You were shut up in here. I could smell it all the way into the other room."
Callie had already realized that the exhaust fumes were thick. She coughed, eyes watering. The man led her to the open side door and closed it fast. "Thank you, Leon."
"I’ll open up the doors and let it air out for a while." He pointed up at the lights that were finally working. "It’s real bright out here now. Until they put the cobblestone down on the path, I’d feel better taking you down myself, though. Is that okay?"
"Absolutely. Thank you."
They talked about the massive storm that had come and gone and Leon assured her that a more severe one was expected any time. Callie heard thunder in the distance and nodded at him. "I heard about it on the radio."
"The water’s been rough today. Y’all be careful out here." Leon helped her onto Goon Docks and tipped his cap at her. "Call up to the shack if you need anything."
Goon Docks swayed so much she had to clutch the rail. "I will. Thank you."
She watched as the wind knocked his cap off and he caught it. The boat lurched again and she opened the door, stumbling down the stairs. Alex caught her around the waist as she lost her balance and lifted her off her feet, hanging onto her. "Hey," he said softly. "You’re late."
"I had to do a consult before I left."
"Why do you smell like a car muffler?"
"Don’t ask."
"Callie-"
She leaned down and kissed him. The yacht tilted a little, just enough for Alex to lose his balance and he fell back, taking her with him to the floor. Straddling his waist, she sat up and said, "The water is insane. This is going to be a rough night."
"No." He shook his head, reaching up to touch the small amount of skin that showed beneath her shirt. "This is going to be a great night. I picked up dinner."
"I’m not really hungry." She got to her feet and held her hand out.
Alex let her pull him up. "You’re eating. I went and got us crab and a ton of those yeast rolls you love so much. Plus, I bought dipped strawberries at that place beside the florist." He shrugged his shoulders a little. "I also got bastard flowers."
She grinned at him. "What, pray tell, does this infamous flower look like?"
"You’ll see later." He led her to the sofa and told her to sit down.
When he picked up the remote control and flooded the salon with soft, romantic music, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He was pulling out all the stops. She sat back on the sofa, watching as he pulled two large to-go platters from the oven. She recognized them immediately. He had gone to their favorite seafood place and as soon as she smelled the delectable aromas, her stomach reminded her that she was, in actuality, starving. She joined him in the galley and grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge.
Goon Docks still wanted to rock enough to make her light headed so she braced herself against the counter. "Alex?"
"Hmm?" He put the first plate in the microwave.
"I can’t have lunch with you tomorrow."
He looked at her as he hit the start button. "Is it okay to ask why?"
"I’m gonna go ahead and go to an AA meeting. It’s during lunch," she replied. "And I’m not going alone."
"Who are you going with?"
"He asked me not to tell anyone so please never, ever repeat this."
"Okay."
"I’m going with Chief Webber. He’s a recovering alcoholic and he asked me to go." Callie picked up one of the rolls and absently tore off a piece, shoving it in her mouth. "I don’t think I’m an alcoholic. I just ... I think that I could be, like, one day. Very easily. I’d rather stop the madness now then wait until it gets out of hand."
"I’m proud of you, Callie. I’m really proud of you." He leaned forward and kissed her. The boat shifted and he stumbled, pressing her against the counter. "Sorry."
"See? Rough night. Ow."
The microwave beeped and he put the other plate in, hitting start again. Callie finished off the roll and sighed. "I was in the operating room ALL day. My body aches in places I didn’t know I had. How about you? What did you do today?"
"I scrubbed in with Bailey this afternoon and with Webber earlier in the morning. We lost both patients. One was the girl responsible for the pile up." He took the lid off the first plate and slid it toward her. "Her blood alcohol was double what it should have been and she hit the steering wheel. So, expect me to start obsessing about your seat belt again."
"I don’t mind."
Alex pulled her forward and kissed her. "Did you notice what’s *not* in the living room?"
"Your luggage?"
"I unpacked, but I saved the bags for you. You can sink them in the ocean or burn them or bury them or -"
"You sound just like my mother." Callie kissed him again as the microwave dinged.
Alex retrieved his plate and they walked into the living room, sitting side by side on the sofa. Callie smiled when she realized that he had already pulled all of the meat out of the crab legs for her. She ate a mouthful and moaned, "God, this is good. I didn’t get a chance to eat *all* day."
Alex chewed his food slowly. "Yet you came in and told me you weren’t hungry. Why is that?"
"It’s a reflex." She took another bite before she spoke again. "I’ve said it for so long that it’s the first thing that comes to mind."
"Why did you start saying it, Cal?"
"Because I was curvy, which really means fat, and then the weight fell off and I figured it was worth it. Then I didn’t eat because my life was out of control and I wanted to control *something* and food was easy."
"What’s the problem now?"
"There’s no problem." She took a bite of her vegetables and rice. "See?"
"But you-"
"Changing the subject."
Alex listened as she told him about the progress with Ava and about the many families who had come forward. Four out of over one hundred was a great start as far as he was concerned. He noticed that she did more talking than eating and gradually began to push her food around on her plate. His own plate was clean and she still had well over three quarters of hers left when she stood and walked into the kitchen. She put the cover back on it and slid it into the refrigerator before she grabbed a bottle of water and rejoined him on the sofa.
"Going back to an earlier subject ... when are you going to start eating enough?"
"When I get hungry."
"I'm worried about this, Callie."
"You shouldn't be. Now stop talking about it."
"Okay. For now." He pulled her against him and kissed the side of her head. "Why don’t you go take a shower and unwind?"
"You want to come with me?"
"I do, but I’m not going to." Smiling, he kissed her softly. "I have a plan so don’t ask me anything."
"Oooookay."
He stood and pulled her to her feet. "Don’t take too long, though."
Callie took fifteen minutes. Most of that time was spent letting the water massage the aching muscles of her back and shoulders. She had pinned her hair up, not wanting to deal with drying it, and after she had steamed up the mirrors and turned herself lobster red, she emerged. Wrapped in a towel, she headed into the bedroom and stopped walking abruptly.
Alex was sitting on the foot of the bed, dressed in his boxers. He had put rose petals, yellow with red tips, all over the bed and floor. Standing, he held out one perfectly bloomed rose and said, "Bastard flowers. Yellow says I’m sorry and the red says I love you. So it’s a hybrid thing with both colors. I - I remembered that you hated pink flowers."
She took the rose and lifted it to her nose, inhaling the scent. "I should be the one apologizing. Last night was my fault. And this morning I was just ... crazy."
"This morning you were honest. I’m hoping that by the time you fall asleep tonight any doubt you have will be gone." Reaching down, he opened her towel and tossed it aside. He took the rose from her and trailed it over the hollow of her throat and then down the valley between her breasts. "Yellow is a good color on you."
Her breath caught when he brushed the silken petals against her nipple. He reached up with his free hand, kneading her other nipple into a taut bud. "Let your hair down."
She complied, removing the clip and letting the waves fall around her shoulders. Callie had never had anyone gaze at her with such intensity. Instead of making her feel insecure ... it made her feel wanted. When he moved behind her, trailing the rose along her skin in his wake, she closed her eyes. He brushed her hair to one side and kissed her neck, then her shoulder.
"I’ve been thinking about this all day," he whispered. "You’ve handcuffed me. I’ve handcuffed you. We’ve been dirty and raunchy and enjoyed the hell out of it, but tonight ... I’m gonna show you exactly what you mean to me."
He moved in front of her again and ran his fingers through the ends of her hair. It had gotten so long that it partially hid her breasts. He pushed it back over her shoulders and stepped closer, letting her chest rub against his. Bending down, he captured her mouth with his and slowly licked across her bottom lip. She opened her mouth and his tongue caressed hers. It wasn’t frenzied like most of their kisses, it was a slow, undulating exploration that left her weak in the knees.
Alex turned her a little and the backs of her legs hit the bed. Gripping her hips, he guided her downward, never breaking the kiss. When she was seated in the spot he had vacated, he laid the flower next to her and smoothed his palms over her thighs, parting her legs. He leaned down, kissing her belly, then her side. A little higher, he tasted the underside of her breast and she whispered his name. He looked up at her as he hooked his hands behind her knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed.
When he kissed her again, it was tender. There was no other word for it. He wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger and pulled her forward, hovering at the corner of her mouth, where he whispered his love, before capturing it completely. He savored her, lingering over the task until she put her hands on his chest and pushed him back so she could catch her breath. Alex’s response was to tug her closer still and secure a spot between her open thighs.
Callie watched as he slipped his hand along the trembling flesh of her leg and when he brushed against her labia, she licked her lips. Two fingers eased into her and her head fell back. A second later, he placed the palm of his free hand between her breasts and pushed her back against the bed. Rose petals clung to her flesh and the heady aroma was intoxicating. It smelled fresh, free. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his fingers. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her body come to life in ways she had never truly experienced before.
She was about to tell him so when his tongue flicked against her clit, hot and wet, and the only cognitive thought she had was his name. Reaching down, she put her hand on his head, urging him, begging him. His name was a plea on her lips and when he added a third digit to her moist center, she strained against him, tugging at his hair.
At the first sign of her orgasm, he increased the momentum of his tongue. As she rode out the blissful waves of release, he lapped at her flesh, greedily devouring her until she was spent. Silently, he stood and pulled his boxers off. His hard on was painful and throbbing and as he gazed down at her, noting the way her breasts moved up and down with her rapid breathing, he knew he *had* to be inside her. He had planned to take her face to face, to kiss her every second of it, but he couldn’t.
Lifting her legs flush against his chest, he eased into her. Their bed was the perfect height to accommodate him and his fingers bit into the flesh of her thighs as he lifted her a little, penetrating deeper. He gazed down at her, watching as she fisted the cover in her hands. Rose petals clung to her hair, to her sides, and he bent forward, kissing every inch of her stomach and chest that he could reach.
"Alex," she moaned. "Harder."
He grinned at her. "I think I told you that we’re-"
"Stop talking."
She sat up suddenly and pulled him down on top of her. They climbed the bed in a tangle of limbs and then he was inside her again and she had her legs around her waist, yanking him against her as hard and fast as she could. He laced their fingers together over her head and kissed her, his hips slamming furiously against her.
Callie had rarely ever gotten off just by intercourse alone, but when he whispered, in vivid detail, exactly what she was doing to him ... she came so hard that she almost bucked them both off the bed. Her clasping vaginal walls sent him straight over the edge and he collapsed on top of her, his hands still on hers. They stayed that way for a while, him panting, her enjoying the multiple vibrations between her legs. Goon Docks bobbed to the right so swiftly that they felt her hit the dock. It knocked them both off the bed and into the floor. Laughing, they looked at one another.
Finally, she whispered, "Did you say something about dipped strawberries?"
"NOW is when you decide to start thinking about food?" He pushed himself up on his elbows and grinned down at her. "Right now?"
"Chocolate and sex." She kissed him. "Anytime you can mix the two it’s a perfect world."
He pulled away from her, letting his hands trail down the supple contour of her waist. "I’ll be right back."
"Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"It worked."
"What worked?"
"You erased all doubt."
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie made small talk with Webber as they drove to the small community church where the AA meeting was being held. He warned her as they pulled into the parking lot that perhaps she would see people that she knew and if she did then she shouldn’t let on. Her palms were sweating when she parked and climbed out of the car. He put a reassuring arm around her shoulder and led her across the parking lot. She had to give him credit ... he could say a lot about nothing in a way that calmed the nerves.
There were less than twenty people seated in a small circle on folding chairs. She had expected to be seated in pews facing forward, so it jarred her when she took a seat next to Webber and was able to look people in the eye. Several people smiled at her and she smiled back. The man in charge, Marcel, came and spoke to Richard, who introduced Callie as a close friend. Within minutes, the meeting was underway and Callie was listening raptly to a woman named Clarissa explain that she had fallen off the wagon, but was embracing the personal tragedy and owning it.
"I mean ... I can either let it ruin me and dominate me or I can say ‘wow, that actually happened’ and move past it. I’m moving past it. If I have to start at square one then at least I know where the danger is," Clarissa said.
Next to her was a man named Bob, who was visiting for the first time as well. "I’m here on a business trip. Everyone’s drinking and I’m not. It’s hard to watch them enjoy it and be close enough to smell it so here I am. I’m two years sober and sitting at that table last night felt like day one all over again."
"I understand completely," Richard spoke up. "Most of my co-workers talk about meeting each other for drinks after work. They’ve stopped inviting me because I can’t do it. I went to a local bar a while back with someone and if it hadn’t been for another friend asking me to dance ... I think I would have ordered an entire bottle."
Bob nodded. "I went to sleep last night telling myself that it would be worth it not to wake up with a hangover. I dreamed that I was in that happy indifferent place, though. I want that place."
Clarissa raised her hand and said, "I can promise you that the happy indifferent place goes away and you’re left with the reality that you just took one step back for every day that you’ve stepped forward. It’s like you take that glass in your hand and you make a split decision that changes everything you’ve worked for. It’s best to avoid putting yourself in those situations."
A scruffy blond man cleared his throat. "I don’t know that I agree with that. I sometimes go to the liquor store and walk up and down the aisle just to soak up the ambiance. I bought a bottle of expensive vodka the other day just so I could pour it out. It was empowering. It was like I conquered a demon."
"But what if you hadn’t poured it out?" Bob asked.
The blond man shook his head. "I’m twelve years sober. When that little voice starts talking in my ear ... I conquer it. Pouring it out is the way that I do it. I do it so that alcohol knows that it won’t beat *me*."
"You don’t ever want to drink it?" Callie asked softly.
"Oh, I always want to drink it," he replied. "I just don’t let it drink me. That’s what it does, you know? It consumes *you* past the point of being who you are. You can be a funny drunk or a crying drunk or a mean drunk, but you stop being you." The man grinned at her. "I’m Wylie, by the way."
"Callie," she replied. Suddenly all eyes were on her and she shifted in her seat, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "I, uh, a few weeks ago I drank so much that I almost died. And ... it didn’t teach me anything because when I got home from the hospital ... I had four more shots. I don’t want to drink all the time ... just when it gets bad."
"That’s how we all start out, Callie," Marcel replied. "I used to only drink socially and then I started drinking when life got a little hectic and then I was doing it every day. It creeps up on you."
Callie nodded. "How do you stop thinking about it? How do you learn to rely on yourself when you’re ... your own worst enemy? I - *I* scare me sometimes. It’s like that voice that Wylie mentioned is the only voice in my head."
"You silence that voice by doing what you’re doing right now. You talk to people who have been there and done that," Marcel told her. "And you listen so that you don’t hit the same boulders and learn to spot the warning signs."
The rest of the meeting passed quickly. When it was over, everyone stood and recited the Serenity Prayer, holding hands with their neighbors. Callie felt the Chief squeeze her hand and took a deep breath. He didn’t let go of her hand immediately, however, and as the other attendees filed out, he kept her behind with him. Marcel joined them after he had said goodbye to the others. Richard cleared his throat and said, "Could you give her a manual and some information?"
"Absolutely." Marcel dug in the canvas bag that had been sitting beside his chair and held out a small box, which Callie took. He grinned at her and said, "Most people don’t talk at all on their first day. You did well."
"I guess I had something to say."
"That’s good. That’s *very* good." Holding out a card, Marcel added, "That’s my cell phone number, my home number and my email address. Feel free to call me anytime day or night if you have anything else you need to say."
She nodded.
Once they were back in the car, Callie put the key in the ignition, but didn’t start it. "Chief Webber?"
"You can call me Richard, Callie."
"Richard," she said. "I thought I was the only person alive who felt the way I do sometimes. I thought I was crazy or a horrible person, but I’m not. I’m just a *person* and I think I’m going to be just fine."
"You think or you know?"
She grinned at him. It was genuine and big. "I *know* that I’m going to be just fine. I’m not meant to be a victim, even when I’m trying to victimize myself. I’m going to start owning *me* again and I *know* that I can. I am, after all, my mother’s daughter. And she could make the world stop spinning if she really wanted to."
*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, I hate writing smut. And I hate sweet smut, but it was needed. ;)
Callie's okay now (but what the hell did she leave the car running in the garage for!?!).
And Callex is just fine.
Goon Docks isn't the only one who's riding choppy waters, though. It's about to get CRAZY.
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Rating: NC17 majorly
Pairing: Addison/Mark, Callie/George, Callie/Alex, George/Izzie, Meredith/Derek
Summary: Sometimes it hurts to fall, but if you're lucky someone may catch you. And they may be falling, too.
A/N: That sound you just heard was a big sigh of relief. I am so glad this chapter is finished. ;) Now the storyline that I have planned since day one is actually on its way!
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty One
Twenty Two
Twenty Three
Twenty Four
Twenty Five
Twenty Six
Twenty Seven
Twenty Eight
Twenty Nine
*~*~*~*~*~
Inside my skin
There is this space
It twists and turns
It bleeds and aches
Inside my heart
There's an empty room
It's waiting for lightning
It's waiting for you
I am wanting and
I am needing you
To be here
Inside the absence
Of fear
- Jewel
*~*~*~*~*~
Alex changed into his scrubs in the locker room and lingered for a few minutes to talk to Meredith and Cristina. Neither of them had seen Callie that morning and she had not answered his page. He called and left a generic voice mail and then noticed that Cristina was watching him. "What?" he snapped.
"Trouble in paradise?" she asked.
Alex glanced at George, who had his back to him, and nodded. "A little."
"Are you sure she’s working today?"
"I know she’s here. I saw her car."
George shut his locker and turned around, facing Alex. "She’s either on the roof or in the basement. Those are her ‘thinking places’ as she likes to call them. If she’s worried about something she’s probably on the roof. If she’s trying to hide from the world she’s in the basement."
With a nod, Alex walked past him. "Thanks."
"That was very decent," Meredith said, patting George on the back.
"It’s not decent. He smiled when I asked if there was trouble." Cristina adjusted her stethoscope. "Karma already took a bite out of you once, Bambi. Next time it will emasculate you."
*~
Alex checked the roof first and as luck would have it, she was leaning against the railing, a cup of coffee in her hand. Her hair was whipping frantically in the wind and she wasn’t wearing a jacket. Neither was he and he was shivering by the time he made it across the helipad. He stepped up beside her and gripped the rail. She glanced at him and he saw the look of exasperation on her face before she quickly looked away. It infuriated him. "Callie, come inside. It’s cold out here."
"I’m not cold."
"Then why are your lips blue?"
"I’ll be in soon."
His teeth chattered. "I’m freezing, Gothika. Don’t make me wait you out."
"Go inside."
"Not happening." He touched her arm. "Talk to me."
She continued to gaze at the approaching storm clouds. It always stormed in Seattle, but the clouds were different today, darker, rolling across the sky at an unbelievable rate. "It looks like the outer bands of a hurricane," she said offhand. "It reminds me of home."
"It looks like tornado weather in Iowa." He looked up at the sky, frowning. "But it’s too cold. Will you please come and talk to me?"
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Why you left me this morning."
She finally turned, her eyes on his. "Do you ever think about the future?"
He nodded. "All the time since you."
"How far into the future do you think we’ll have to get before you learn to trust me?"
The chill was gone from him in an instant. "I trust you."
"No. No, you don’t. I think - I think maybe you never will. Maybe it’s because you know that I’m impulsive and left someone for you so you think I’ll do the same thing to you. Or maybe it’s because my mother told you all about how my passport had every page stamped before I was eighteen. I don’t know. I just know that it really hurts and I don’t know if I can do it indefinitely." She bit her bottom lip. "So, if you could tell me what I need to do to change it or give me a time frame or something, anything, that would be really fucking great."
Alex felt like his bottom jaw had hit the ground. "Where the hell is this coming from? I came back, Callie. If I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t have."
Callie put both hands on her coffee cup. Her fingers were numb. Her entire being was numb. "When we were sailing back from Alcatraz on the ferry ... you just assumed that I was going back to George. The night of the party, on the roof of the Archfield, you assumed that you couldn’t catch me, that I’d fly from you at the first sign of a problem. Last night you told me that I betrayed you and you left me." She looked back out at the clouds and shook her head. "And I did betray you ... because I lied to you, but that’s not what you meant, Alex. You thought that I had done something with George."
"No, I didn’t. I thought that -"
"How can you expect me to catch *you* if you won’t trust me with the landing?"
"Trust is a two way street, Callie! If you trusted me as much as you’d like me to believe then you would have told me about your damn lunch date! Before it happened!" Alex shoved his hands in his pocket. "And I told you about my mother! I can’t help it if I have a few issues with -"
"Don’t use that as a crutch," she replied. "We have to stop living our past, Alex. I’m not your mother. And you’re not George. I’m not going to leave you and I don’t think you would ever be unfaithful to me. I believe you when you tell me that you love me and I need you to believe me, too. You have to believe me for this to work."
"I came back!"
"You still left!"
Callie’s pager went off and she sighed, pulling it from the clip on her waistband. Alex’s went off two seconds later and they both headed for the door. He opened it and the second they were safely inside the stairwell, he pushed her back against the wall. "Alex," she said. "That page was -"
"You want to know what I see in the future? I see us getting married and having kids and twenty years from now, hell, fifty years from now if I’m lucky enough to be alive ... you will still be the woman who makes me forget every woman I’ve ever known. I told George that same thing the day your parents came and I meant it. That’s what I see and I *trust* that we can do it, Callie. We can have that life. I believe in you. I trust in *us*. We’re going to make mistakes and we’re going to hurt each other, but we’ll get through it because we *are* us and I can’t fail with you." He hugged her, his hands tangling in her windblown hair. "I will never leave you again."
She had begun to cry halfway through his speech. "When I saw your bags this morning in the living room ... it felt like I was dying all over again. I need you, you know?"
"I do know." He hugged her. "I need you, too."
Callie clung to him, shivering now from being outside for so long. He kissed her neck, her cheek, and finally her mouth. It warmed her almost instantly, his tongue against hers. She tasted her tears and something else.
She tasted hope.
When her pager sounded for the second time, they pulled apart and she smiled at him as she dried her face. "What are you doing for lunch?"
He raised a brow, smirking at her. "Maybe we could visit the on call room?"
"Maybe." She kissed him one last time and they headed for the elevator hand in hand. Once they were inside, she said, "Do me a favor?"
"Okay."
She sniffled. "When you unpack tonight ... burn your bags."
Laughing, he hugged her. "When I unpack tonight ... you can burn my bags."
*~*~*~*~*~
The on call room proved to be an impossibility. Trauma after trauma rolled in for most of the day. A multi-car pileup on the highway filled Seattle Grace to capacity and Callie found herself scrubbing into one surgery after another. It was after six p.m. before she had a chance to look at her watch. She had not eaten or drank more than a few sips of water in between the ORs the entire day. Exhausted and with the worst back ache of her entire life, she headed to Chief Webber’s office and was relieved to see the man was sitting behind his desk.
She knocked on his open door and smiled at him. "Do you have a minute?"
"Certainly." He motioned for her to join him and wrote something in the chart he had been working on. After she closed the door and took the seat across from him, he said, "We’re working on DNA matchups for four different families who have come forward regarding our Jane Doe and we’ve discounted over a hundred others who had improbable blood types."
"It’s sad, isn’t it? Over a hundred families have no idea where their daughter is and came to us for a little bit of hope." A sudden look of wonder and comprehension crossed her features. She had done the same thing to her family dozens of times. She had done it to George and Addison, too. She rubbed her neck and closed her eyes.
Webber watched her closely, then took his glasses off. He laced his fingers on top of the desk and regarded her. "What’s on your mind, Dr. Torres?"
"How did you know that you had a problem with alcohol?" she asked bluntly.
Richard clenched his hands a little tighter, then leaned his elbows on the desk. "Because I thought about it all the time. I wanted it all the time."
"What if you only wanted it when you were unhappy?"
"It’s the same thing. It means that you rely on something other than yourself and that’s a very bad idea."
They sat quietly for several seconds. She looked at the wall and he looked at her. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "My offer still stands, Callie. If you’d like to go to a meeting with me that would be fine."
"I’m scared."
"Of what?"
"I think about drinking every time something upsets me. I don’t just think about the happy buzz. I think about drinking until I’m not aware of anything around me." She met his eyes. "I think about drinking until I don’t wake up again."
"I know," Richard said. "I don’t fool as easily as Dr. Gellar. I knew it the morning after you almost died. I examined you. I talked to you. I listened very hard to the things you weren’t saying. And I listen just as hard to the people at AA who actually admit it outright. You’re not the only person who has tried to find answers in the bottom of a bottle and you won’t be the last. All you can be is okay. You have to decide to be okay, though."
"When’s the next meeting?"
"I’m going tomorrow. During lunch."
Callie’s eyes widened a little. "That soon, huh?"
"You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to do anything except listen. You’ll be surprised, I think." He picked up his glasses again and slipped them on, regarding her over the top of them. "By the way, you’ve done a wonderful job generating funds for the clinic. The donation hotline has been ringing off the hook."
"I guess I can do some things right."
"When you knocked on my door just now you were doing something right. And huge. You admitted that you have a problem to me." He saw her mouth open and he shook his head. "Admitting it to yourself is the next step and maybe that won’t come tomorrow or next week or next month, but you took a step in the right direction. So I think you do a lot of things right."
"Thank you. For everything. This goes beyond what a Chief would -"
He smiled at her. "You think I became Chief on surgical skill alone? I know people. And you’re going to be just fine."
Callie got to her feet. "I’ll see you tomorrow."
"I’ll expect you to give me a ride to the meeting. I’ve seen that little Mercedes you’ve been driving and I’m dying to see the inside."
"Yes, sir."
"Goodnight, Dr. Torres."
"Goodnight, Chief."
*~*~*~*~*~
"You can die from too much sex, Mark."
Mark gently let Addison’s feet slide back to the floor and nuzzled her neck. She had been attempting to cook dinner, wearing just his white button down shirt, and it had been too much. He had taken her on the counter which caused her to burn the roast she had been nurturing all day. He had taken her again, this time on the sofa, while they waited for their pizza and as soon as she finished off her third slice, he had pinned her against the hallway wall.
He watched as she righted the shirt that was dwarfing her and smiled when she took a step. He didn’t have to wonder why she looked bowlegged. He had felt how sticky she was and considering that her legs had not been closed for more than a few of the past twelve hours, he knew exactly what was going on. "You want a massage?"
"No. You and your hands need to stay very far away from me for a while."
"Just my hands?"
"Shut. Up. I want a hot bath and for you to wear pants to bed!" She turned and watched him pull up his boxer shorts. "And nothing silk!"
"You like silk."
"I like walking more. If this keeps on I’ll need one of those rings to sit on. Too much of a good thing is -"
"I’m just giving you what you’ve been begging for, Addison."
"I have spent the better part of the day in positions that I didn’t know existed. I watched you in those mirrors until noon and then we finally came here and -"
"You came several more times."
"Where are the towels we bought?"
"I’ll get them." He followed her into the bathroom and enjoyed the view when she leaned over the bathtub, putting the stopper in place. The round globes of her naked backside peeking from under the shirt made his mouth water. "Addy?"
She looked at him fast and pulled the shirt down. "No. Absolutely not. My business hours are over today."
"Thank you for moving in with me and for giving me another chance and for ... being you. I love you."
"Damn it. Do you really have to say things like that?" She unbuttoned the shirt and let it fall to the floor. "If you go get the freakin’ towels you can take a bath with me."
"I’ll take a bath with you if you ask Torres to borrow her handcuffs again."
"Oh dear God. I’ve created a monster."
They soaked in the tub for close to an hour. When Addison declared that they had pruned enough, they rinsed off and headed into their bedroom. She looked at the clock and said, "It’s not even eight p.m. yet!"
"Which means we have a while."
"Which means that we’re just in time to watch the new episode of ‘House’ and at nine there’s a new ‘Venom ER’."
"So we’re watching television?" Mark watched her fluff the pillows on the bed and scratched the side of his head. "That’s what we’re gonna do?"
"People who live together don’t have sex and eat all day long."
"We did that in New York."
She crawled under the cover and patted the bed. "Coming?"
"I’ll be right back."
Addison was nestled beneath the cover when he returned a few minutes later. She saw what he was carrying and grinned, pushing herself into a sitting position. "Ooooh, ice cream! Tell me it’s Cherry Garcia and -"
He turned the container of ice cream so she could see that it was indeed what she craved. He slipped in beside her and skimmed a little off the top with his finger. Holding it up, he said, "Ooops, I forgot the spoon. Want some?"
Addison narrowed her eyes at him. "Mark-"
Shrugging, he licked the dessert from his finger and scooped up a little more. Grinning devilishly, he reached over and smeared it on Addison’s arm. She said his name again and he tried to look innocent as he leaned over and kissed it off her skin. Easing the cover down, he exposed her naked breasts and held up the container, turning it toward her so that her nipple dipped into the ice cream. She cried out at the cold and he leaned forward, sucking and licking until the dusky peak was clean and warm.
"Looks like I don’t need a spoon." He moved across her legs, trapping them. "Wanna play?"
"Play what?" she growled.
"I can show you why you don’t need a spoon either."
Addison saw that his cock was full and erect. "It *is* my favorite ice cream."
Between them, they ate the entire container.
And they wound up showering again.
Twice.
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie held her breath when she opened the garage doors. Even though Meredith had given her a message from Alex telling her he’d see her at home ... part of her believed that his vehicle would not be there. That he would not be there. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that both of his SUV’s were in their proper spot and she leaned her head forward, resting it on the steering wheel. A majority of the tension that was clinging to the muscles of her back and neck dissolved immediately.
She jumped a while later when someone tapped on her window. She glanced up at Leon and shut off her engine. "Hi," she told the man as she stepped from the car.
"You ought not to let your engine run in the garage, ma’am," he told her. "You were shut up in here. I could smell it all the way into the other room."
Callie had already realized that the exhaust fumes were thick. She coughed, eyes watering. The man led her to the open side door and closed it fast. "Thank you, Leon."
"I’ll open up the doors and let it air out for a while." He pointed up at the lights that were finally working. "It’s real bright out here now. Until they put the cobblestone down on the path, I’d feel better taking you down myself, though. Is that okay?"
"Absolutely. Thank you."
They talked about the massive storm that had come and gone and Leon assured her that a more severe one was expected any time. Callie heard thunder in the distance and nodded at him. "I heard about it on the radio."
"The water’s been rough today. Y’all be careful out here." Leon helped her onto Goon Docks and tipped his cap at her. "Call up to the shack if you need anything."
Goon Docks swayed so much she had to clutch the rail. "I will. Thank you."
She watched as the wind knocked his cap off and he caught it. The boat lurched again and she opened the door, stumbling down the stairs. Alex caught her around the waist as she lost her balance and lifted her off her feet, hanging onto her. "Hey," he said softly. "You’re late."
"I had to do a consult before I left."
"Why do you smell like a car muffler?"
"Don’t ask."
"Callie-"
She leaned down and kissed him. The yacht tilted a little, just enough for Alex to lose his balance and he fell back, taking her with him to the floor. Straddling his waist, she sat up and said, "The water is insane. This is going to be a rough night."
"No." He shook his head, reaching up to touch the small amount of skin that showed beneath her shirt. "This is going to be a great night. I picked up dinner."
"I’m not really hungry." She got to her feet and held her hand out.
Alex let her pull him up. "You’re eating. I went and got us crab and a ton of those yeast rolls you love so much. Plus, I bought dipped strawberries at that place beside the florist." He shrugged his shoulders a little. "I also got bastard flowers."
She grinned at him. "What, pray tell, does this infamous flower look like?"
"You’ll see later." He led her to the sofa and told her to sit down.
When he picked up the remote control and flooded the salon with soft, romantic music, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He was pulling out all the stops. She sat back on the sofa, watching as he pulled two large to-go platters from the oven. She recognized them immediately. He had gone to their favorite seafood place and as soon as she smelled the delectable aromas, her stomach reminded her that she was, in actuality, starving. She joined him in the galley and grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge.
Goon Docks still wanted to rock enough to make her light headed so she braced herself against the counter. "Alex?"
"Hmm?" He put the first plate in the microwave.
"I can’t have lunch with you tomorrow."
He looked at her as he hit the start button. "Is it okay to ask why?"
"I’m gonna go ahead and go to an AA meeting. It’s during lunch," she replied. "And I’m not going alone."
"Who are you going with?"
"He asked me not to tell anyone so please never, ever repeat this."
"Okay."
"I’m going with Chief Webber. He’s a recovering alcoholic and he asked me to go." Callie picked up one of the rolls and absently tore off a piece, shoving it in her mouth. "I don’t think I’m an alcoholic. I just ... I think that I could be, like, one day. Very easily. I’d rather stop the madness now then wait until it gets out of hand."
"I’m proud of you, Callie. I’m really proud of you." He leaned forward and kissed her. The boat shifted and he stumbled, pressing her against the counter. "Sorry."
"See? Rough night. Ow."
The microwave beeped and he put the other plate in, hitting start again. Callie finished off the roll and sighed. "I was in the operating room ALL day. My body aches in places I didn’t know I had. How about you? What did you do today?"
"I scrubbed in with Bailey this afternoon and with Webber earlier in the morning. We lost both patients. One was the girl responsible for the pile up." He took the lid off the first plate and slid it toward her. "Her blood alcohol was double what it should have been and she hit the steering wheel. So, expect me to start obsessing about your seat belt again."
"I don’t mind."
Alex pulled her forward and kissed her. "Did you notice what’s *not* in the living room?"
"Your luggage?"
"I unpacked, but I saved the bags for you. You can sink them in the ocean or burn them or bury them or -"
"You sound just like my mother." Callie kissed him again as the microwave dinged.
Alex retrieved his plate and they walked into the living room, sitting side by side on the sofa. Callie smiled when she realized that he had already pulled all of the meat out of the crab legs for her. She ate a mouthful and moaned, "God, this is good. I didn’t get a chance to eat *all* day."
Alex chewed his food slowly. "Yet you came in and told me you weren’t hungry. Why is that?"
"It’s a reflex." She took another bite before she spoke again. "I’ve said it for so long that it’s the first thing that comes to mind."
"Why did you start saying it, Cal?"
"Because I was curvy, which really means fat, and then the weight fell off and I figured it was worth it. Then I didn’t eat because my life was out of control and I wanted to control *something* and food was easy."
"What’s the problem now?"
"There’s no problem." She took a bite of her vegetables and rice. "See?"
"But you-"
"Changing the subject."
Alex listened as she told him about the progress with Ava and about the many families who had come forward. Four out of over one hundred was a great start as far as he was concerned. He noticed that she did more talking than eating and gradually began to push her food around on her plate. His own plate was clean and she still had well over three quarters of hers left when she stood and walked into the kitchen. She put the cover back on it and slid it into the refrigerator before she grabbed a bottle of water and rejoined him on the sofa.
"Going back to an earlier subject ... when are you going to start eating enough?"
"When I get hungry."
"I'm worried about this, Callie."
"You shouldn't be. Now stop talking about it."
"Okay. For now." He pulled her against him and kissed the side of her head. "Why don’t you go take a shower and unwind?"
"You want to come with me?"
"I do, but I’m not going to." Smiling, he kissed her softly. "I have a plan so don’t ask me anything."
"Oooookay."
He stood and pulled her to her feet. "Don’t take too long, though."
Callie took fifteen minutes. Most of that time was spent letting the water massage the aching muscles of her back and shoulders. She had pinned her hair up, not wanting to deal with drying it, and after she had steamed up the mirrors and turned herself lobster red, she emerged. Wrapped in a towel, she headed into the bedroom and stopped walking abruptly.
Alex was sitting on the foot of the bed, dressed in his boxers. He had put rose petals, yellow with red tips, all over the bed and floor. Standing, he held out one perfectly bloomed rose and said, "Bastard flowers. Yellow says I’m sorry and the red says I love you. So it’s a hybrid thing with both colors. I - I remembered that you hated pink flowers."
She took the rose and lifted it to her nose, inhaling the scent. "I should be the one apologizing. Last night was my fault. And this morning I was just ... crazy."
"This morning you were honest. I’m hoping that by the time you fall asleep tonight any doubt you have will be gone." Reaching down, he opened her towel and tossed it aside. He took the rose from her and trailed it over the hollow of her throat and then down the valley between her breasts. "Yellow is a good color on you."
Her breath caught when he brushed the silken petals against her nipple. He reached up with his free hand, kneading her other nipple into a taut bud. "Let your hair down."
She complied, removing the clip and letting the waves fall around her shoulders. Callie had never had anyone gaze at her with such intensity. Instead of making her feel insecure ... it made her feel wanted. When he moved behind her, trailing the rose along her skin in his wake, she closed her eyes. He brushed her hair to one side and kissed her neck, then her shoulder.
"I’ve been thinking about this all day," he whispered. "You’ve handcuffed me. I’ve handcuffed you. We’ve been dirty and raunchy and enjoyed the hell out of it, but tonight ... I’m gonna show you exactly what you mean to me."
He moved in front of her again and ran his fingers through the ends of her hair. It had gotten so long that it partially hid her breasts. He pushed it back over her shoulders and stepped closer, letting her chest rub against his. Bending down, he captured her mouth with his and slowly licked across her bottom lip. She opened her mouth and his tongue caressed hers. It wasn’t frenzied like most of their kisses, it was a slow, undulating exploration that left her weak in the knees.
Alex turned her a little and the backs of her legs hit the bed. Gripping her hips, he guided her downward, never breaking the kiss. When she was seated in the spot he had vacated, he laid the flower next to her and smoothed his palms over her thighs, parting her legs. He leaned down, kissing her belly, then her side. A little higher, he tasted the underside of her breast and she whispered his name. He looked up at her as he hooked his hands behind her knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed.
When he kissed her again, it was tender. There was no other word for it. He wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger and pulled her forward, hovering at the corner of her mouth, where he whispered his love, before capturing it completely. He savored her, lingering over the task until she put her hands on his chest and pushed him back so she could catch her breath. Alex’s response was to tug her closer still and secure a spot between her open thighs.
Callie watched as he slipped his hand along the trembling flesh of her leg and when he brushed against her labia, she licked her lips. Two fingers eased into her and her head fell back. A second later, he placed the palm of his free hand between her breasts and pushed her back against the bed. Rose petals clung to her flesh and the heady aroma was intoxicating. It smelled fresh, free. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his fingers. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her body come to life in ways she had never truly experienced before.
She was about to tell him so when his tongue flicked against her clit, hot and wet, and the only cognitive thought she had was his name. Reaching down, she put her hand on his head, urging him, begging him. His name was a plea on her lips and when he added a third digit to her moist center, she strained against him, tugging at his hair.
At the first sign of her orgasm, he increased the momentum of his tongue. As she rode out the blissful waves of release, he lapped at her flesh, greedily devouring her until she was spent. Silently, he stood and pulled his boxers off. His hard on was painful and throbbing and as he gazed down at her, noting the way her breasts moved up and down with her rapid breathing, he knew he *had* to be inside her. He had planned to take her face to face, to kiss her every second of it, but he couldn’t.
Lifting her legs flush against his chest, he eased into her. Their bed was the perfect height to accommodate him and his fingers bit into the flesh of her thighs as he lifted her a little, penetrating deeper. He gazed down at her, watching as she fisted the cover in her hands. Rose petals clung to her hair, to her sides, and he bent forward, kissing every inch of her stomach and chest that he could reach.
"Alex," she moaned. "Harder."
He grinned at her. "I think I told you that we’re-"
"Stop talking."
She sat up suddenly and pulled him down on top of her. They climbed the bed in a tangle of limbs and then he was inside her again and she had her legs around her waist, yanking him against her as hard and fast as she could. He laced their fingers together over her head and kissed her, his hips slamming furiously against her.
Callie had rarely ever gotten off just by intercourse alone, but when he whispered, in vivid detail, exactly what she was doing to him ... she came so hard that she almost bucked them both off the bed. Her clasping vaginal walls sent him straight over the edge and he collapsed on top of her, his hands still on hers. They stayed that way for a while, him panting, her enjoying the multiple vibrations between her legs. Goon Docks bobbed to the right so swiftly that they felt her hit the dock. It knocked them both off the bed and into the floor. Laughing, they looked at one another.
Finally, she whispered, "Did you say something about dipped strawberries?"
"NOW is when you decide to start thinking about food?" He pushed himself up on his elbows and grinned down at her. "Right now?"
"Chocolate and sex." She kissed him. "Anytime you can mix the two it’s a perfect world."
He pulled away from her, letting his hands trail down the supple contour of her waist. "I’ll be right back."
"Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"It worked."
"What worked?"
"You erased all doubt."
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie made small talk with Webber as they drove to the small community church where the AA meeting was being held. He warned her as they pulled into the parking lot that perhaps she would see people that she knew and if she did then she shouldn’t let on. Her palms were sweating when she parked and climbed out of the car. He put a reassuring arm around her shoulder and led her across the parking lot. She had to give him credit ... he could say a lot about nothing in a way that calmed the nerves.
There were less than twenty people seated in a small circle on folding chairs. She had expected to be seated in pews facing forward, so it jarred her when she took a seat next to Webber and was able to look people in the eye. Several people smiled at her and she smiled back. The man in charge, Marcel, came and spoke to Richard, who introduced Callie as a close friend. Within minutes, the meeting was underway and Callie was listening raptly to a woman named Clarissa explain that she had fallen off the wagon, but was embracing the personal tragedy and owning it.
"I mean ... I can either let it ruin me and dominate me or I can say ‘wow, that actually happened’ and move past it. I’m moving past it. If I have to start at square one then at least I know where the danger is," Clarissa said.
Next to her was a man named Bob, who was visiting for the first time as well. "I’m here on a business trip. Everyone’s drinking and I’m not. It’s hard to watch them enjoy it and be close enough to smell it so here I am. I’m two years sober and sitting at that table last night felt like day one all over again."
"I understand completely," Richard spoke up. "Most of my co-workers talk about meeting each other for drinks after work. They’ve stopped inviting me because I can’t do it. I went to a local bar a while back with someone and if it hadn’t been for another friend asking me to dance ... I think I would have ordered an entire bottle."
Bob nodded. "I went to sleep last night telling myself that it would be worth it not to wake up with a hangover. I dreamed that I was in that happy indifferent place, though. I want that place."
Clarissa raised her hand and said, "I can promise you that the happy indifferent place goes away and you’re left with the reality that you just took one step back for every day that you’ve stepped forward. It’s like you take that glass in your hand and you make a split decision that changes everything you’ve worked for. It’s best to avoid putting yourself in those situations."
A scruffy blond man cleared his throat. "I don’t know that I agree with that. I sometimes go to the liquor store and walk up and down the aisle just to soak up the ambiance. I bought a bottle of expensive vodka the other day just so I could pour it out. It was empowering. It was like I conquered a demon."
"But what if you hadn’t poured it out?" Bob asked.
The blond man shook his head. "I’m twelve years sober. When that little voice starts talking in my ear ... I conquer it. Pouring it out is the way that I do it. I do it so that alcohol knows that it won’t beat *me*."
"You don’t ever want to drink it?" Callie asked softly.
"Oh, I always want to drink it," he replied. "I just don’t let it drink me. That’s what it does, you know? It consumes *you* past the point of being who you are. You can be a funny drunk or a crying drunk or a mean drunk, but you stop being you." The man grinned at her. "I’m Wylie, by the way."
"Callie," she replied. Suddenly all eyes were on her and she shifted in her seat, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "I, uh, a few weeks ago I drank so much that I almost died. And ... it didn’t teach me anything because when I got home from the hospital ... I had four more shots. I don’t want to drink all the time ... just when it gets bad."
"That’s how we all start out, Callie," Marcel replied. "I used to only drink socially and then I started drinking when life got a little hectic and then I was doing it every day. It creeps up on you."
Callie nodded. "How do you stop thinking about it? How do you learn to rely on yourself when you’re ... your own worst enemy? I - *I* scare me sometimes. It’s like that voice that Wylie mentioned is the only voice in my head."
"You silence that voice by doing what you’re doing right now. You talk to people who have been there and done that," Marcel told her. "And you listen so that you don’t hit the same boulders and learn to spot the warning signs."
The rest of the meeting passed quickly. When it was over, everyone stood and recited the Serenity Prayer, holding hands with their neighbors. Callie felt the Chief squeeze her hand and took a deep breath. He didn’t let go of her hand immediately, however, and as the other attendees filed out, he kept her behind with him. Marcel joined them after he had said goodbye to the others. Richard cleared his throat and said, "Could you give her a manual and some information?"
"Absolutely." Marcel dug in the canvas bag that had been sitting beside his chair and held out a small box, which Callie took. He grinned at her and said, "Most people don’t talk at all on their first day. You did well."
"I guess I had something to say."
"That’s good. That’s *very* good." Holding out a card, Marcel added, "That’s my cell phone number, my home number and my email address. Feel free to call me anytime day or night if you have anything else you need to say."
She nodded.
Once they were back in the car, Callie put the key in the ignition, but didn’t start it. "Chief Webber?"
"You can call me Richard, Callie."
"Richard," she said. "I thought I was the only person alive who felt the way I do sometimes. I thought I was crazy or a horrible person, but I’m not. I’m just a *person* and I think I’m going to be just fine."
"You think or you know?"
She grinned at him. It was genuine and big. "I *know* that I’m going to be just fine. I’m not meant to be a victim, even when I’m trying to victimize myself. I’m going to start owning *me* again and I *know* that I can. I am, after all, my mother’s daughter. And she could make the world stop spinning if she really wanted to."
*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, I hate writing smut. And I hate sweet smut, but it was needed. ;)
Callie's okay now (but what the hell did she leave the car running in the garage for!?!).
And Callex is just fine.
Goon Docks isn't the only one who's riding choppy waters, though. It's about to get CRAZY.