Title: Ready For A Fall (1/?)
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Rating: R
Summary: Callie finds out about Gizzie and finds an unlikely ally who is actually on her side.
A/N: I have been wounded and scarred by the recent eps of Grey's Anatomy. I don't know if my muse will ever come back to finish Kissing Chaos. Certain aspects of the show are not sitting well with me.


"How long does it usually take for the newlywed sex to stop?" Callie asked, setting her lunch tray opposite Addison’s.

Addison glanced up from her newspaper and shrugged. "Derek and I got caught all over the hospital the first two years of our marriage. Is George doing the sex machine thing again?"

"George and I haven’t had sex in over a week."

"Is he still sick? He looked pretty bad while your dad was here."

"He was hungover, Addison. Not sick. Based on the smell alone, I think he probably drank enough to intoxicate twenty men, but it should be out of his system by now." Callie took a sip of her soda and sighed. "Something’s going on."

"Yeah. All the interns are about to be testing for the residency program. That’s pretty scary."

"It’s more than that."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Every time I say anything he tells me that it’s all in my head." Callie took a bite of her sandwich and added, "And Izzie Stevens is suddenly acting scared of me. She actually backed away from me earlier when I was asking her to present a case. It’s totally weird. She’s usually all over the chance to insult me."

Addison sat up a little straighter and glanced across the cafeteria at Izzie. The blond was shooting what could only be called a ‘guilty’ look at Callie. As Addison watched, George entered the cafeteria, took one look at Izzie, then the back of Callie’s head, and turned on his heel. The signs were all there. Izzie Stevens had confessed that she had slept with a married man the day that Callie’s father arrived. Addison’s stomach sank all the way to her toes as she put two and two together. George had slept with Izzie.

And Izzie thought it was God’s plan.

Callie pushed her barely touched food away and rested her chin in her palm. "Maybe it’s me. Maybe he’s still reeling from me telling him that I’ve got money. He was really upset about it."

When Addison didn’t reply, Callie looked back at her and gasped. Addison’s eyes were flooded with tears. "Oh my god! Are you okay?"

"They slept together," Addison blurted, the clapped a hand over her mouth.

"What?" Callie reached across the table and pulled her friend’s hand away from her face. "Who?"

"George and Izzie. Izzie told me that she slept with the wrong guy the night before your father came and I just realized who the married man is that she was talking about."
Frowning, Callie let her hand go and sat back, shaking her head. "That- that’s insane. George - he wouldn’t -"

"As someone who cheated ... I know the signs." Addison dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. "I’m sorry to tell you this way."

Callie pushed her chair back roughly and stood. Her gaze found Izzie, who was looking at her with wide eyes. Callie stalked toward the blond and Izzie bolted, sending her chair crashing to the floor as she raced from the cafeteria. Any doubt that Callie had was suddenly gone. She fought the urge to sink to her knees as she felt soul deep pain that she had never experienced in her life. Addison rushed forward as Callie bent at the waist and held her steady.

"Come on." Addison tugged at her, but Callie shook her head. "Callie, people are looking. Don’t give them anything to talk about. Come on!"

"I can’t breathe," Callie choked out before the onslaught of tears began. "I - I’m dying."

"No. No, you’re not. Let’s go."

"He cheated. George cheated on me with the girl who has made my life miserable for months." Callie shook her head, angry now. "After he told me that he didn’t have a chance with her because she was a blond, stacked supermodel."

"Let’s go to the lounge."
"No. I’m going to go kill both of them!"

Addison chased after Callie as she stalked into the hospital. She attempted to rationalize with her, attempted to physically stop her, but Callie plowed ahead like a freight train. When the dark haired resident slammed open the door of the intern’s locker room, George glanced up at her. He was eating his lunch alone and he smiled when she appeared, but the smile quickly faded when he saw the tears on her face.

"What happened?" he asked, wiping his mouth and setting his lunch aside. He stood and reached for her, but she knocked his hands away.

"You slept with Izzie. You slept with Izzie the night that we fought. Didn’t you?"

"Callie-"

"Didn’t you!?" she screamed.

"I - I was drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing, but, Callie-"

"Shut up!"

"It didn’t mean anything to me. It was a mistake and I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you, but I-"

"I want your things out of my room in one hour."

"No!" George took a step toward her, hands outstretched. "No. Please! We can -"

"We? There is no ‘we’ anymore!"

"I can - I can fix this."

"No. No, you can’t!" Callie cried. "We’ve been married less than three months! And you cheated on me with the one person that you knew hated me! That girl has done nothing but brutalize me since I met you and you-"

"I’m sorry." George grabbed her hand and attempted to tug her into his arms, but she yanked free.

"Don’t touch me!"

"I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone in my life and -"

"George, if you value your life at *all* then stop lying to me. You never loved me. I was just too stupid to realize it." She started to turn away from him, but he caught her arm and tried to hug her. She shoved him, roughly, and shook her head. "We’re done."

"Let her go," Izzie spoke up from the doorway.

Callie turned, took one look at the woman who had trespassed on what was hers, and punched her with everything she had. Izzie’s head rocked back and she slid down the door, landing in a heap on the ground. Callie started to grab her, but Addison got between them, and then Alex Karev had Callie around the waist and was pulling her out of the locker room entirely.

*~*~*~*~*~

Fifteen days.

It had been fifteen of the longest days in Callie’s life. Just fifteen days since she learned the truth and fled Seattle as if the hounds of hell were after her, but if felt like a lifetime. She had taken a leave from work ... a leave filled with alcohol, vomit, and tears. She had flown to North Carolina, driven into the mountains, and barricaded herself in a small cabin. No cell phone, no television, no internet. Nothing. Her thoughts were more than enough to keep her distracted and she silenced them as much as possible with hard liquor.

Chief Webber had been understanding. She had the presence of mind to call him from the plane. And Addison as well. Addison had promised to make George pack his things and begged to know where Callie was going, but Callie hadn’t replied. She needed time alone, time with Jack Daniels, time with the pain. Unfortunately, the cabin wasn’t available for as long as Callie really needed and on the sixteenth day she found herself sucking down champagne in first class on a flight back to Seattle.

The seventeenth day found her hung over and squinting at the scrawling text in a chart. "Who wrote this crap?" she finally snapped. "It looks like a blind man played with a broken pen!"

"That would be me," Alex replied, walking toward her. "And I’m all yours."

"Pardon?"

"Bailey told me to get out of her sight before she sharpened her scalpel on my ass so here I am." He grinned, spreading his arms wide. "It’s your lucky day or something."

"Just great," Callie groaned. "Rule number one, I’m not your baby sitter. You either make yourself useful or make yourself scarce. I’m not going to hold your hand, wipe your nose, powder your ass, or deal with any of your little intern drama. Got it?"

"Are they running PMS through the water here?" Alex asked, but didn’t wait for her answer. "I went ahead and had the OR prepped for this guy. He’s gonna need femoral and tibial traction pins."

Callie cocked her head to one side. "Well, aren’t you just the smartest little man ever?"

"There’s nothing little about me other than the size of my patience and you’re wearing it very thin, Torres."

"*Doctor* Torres, Karev." Callie slammed the chart and glared at him. "And for future reference, I happen to be the one in charge so you don’t get to tell me what my patient needs."

"Then by all means, *Doctor* Torres, tell me what he needs."

"Femoral and tibial traction pins." Callie narrowed her eyes. "Not one word, Karev."

"Told you so."

"I said -"

"That was *three* words."

"Go find someone else to work with."

"Everyone has an intern."

"Even Sloan?"

"George is with him."

Callie felt her left eye twitch. "Rule number two ... do not mention that name in my presence if you are attached to your various appendages."

"This bitterness is going to eat you alive."

"Rule number three ... you’re not a psychologist so don’t act like one. Keep your opinions to yourself. Got it?"

"Why did you go into ortho?"

"Because unlike you and your merry band of misfits, I actually knew what I wanted going into med school."

"But why bones? It’s just so boring."

Callie fought the grin that was building when she said, "Keep that in mind the next time you get a stiff one in your pants. It’s just so boring."

"Hey-"

"Zip it, Karev."

*~*~*~*~*~

Addison slid her lunch tray onto the table and sat across from Callie. The last time they had lunch together had been a horrific event rivaled only by the projectile vomiting incident a few months prior. She narrowed her eyes as she watched the dark haired woman tinker with the lime green Ipod in her hand. After a few seconds, Addy cleared her throat. "Are you ever going to eat again?"

"I’m fasting." Callie took a sip of water and shut the Ipod off. "Lack of food nourishes the mind."

"But hard liquor is okay?"

"It’s a liquid."

"I’m worried about you." Addy rested her chin on her palm as she studied her friend. Callie’s coloring was usually so vibrant and healthy, but now her face was grey, ashen. "George asked me to tell you that he’s living at the Crestview Motel and wanted me to make sure I mentioned that the roaches are big enough to carry him away. He said to remind you how he feels about roaches."

"He should embrace them. He's the same breed after all."

"Maybe you should just talk to him."

"Because I have so much to say?"

"Because he does."

"And I should care?"

"Cal, he’s still your husband and he’s really sorr-"

"Do not tell me that he’s sorry, Addison. And don’t call him my husband. That stopped the second he slept with another woman."

Addison exhaled the breath she had been holding. "Have you seen him lately? He looks worse than you which is saying something."

"I don’t care. I genuinely do not give a good god damn."

"But-"

"You sympathize with him because you are a cheater, too. The two of you are on the same plane of wrong. I don’t sympathize. I can’t. We were *married*. We spoke actual vows that I actually honored and he didn’t. As far as I’m concerned George died with our marriage."

Stung by those words, Addison pushed her lunch tray to one side, untouched. "Let me tell you something - people make mistakes. You slept with Mark Sloan and-"

"I wasn’t married. I didn’t have a husband or even a *boyfriend* at the time because I broke up with George before I did it."

"I’m not just a cheater!" Addy finally snapped. "I happen to be-"

"Oh, really? Because the story that I heard is that you weren’t faithful to Derek."

"I slipped, but that doesn’t make me a horrible person!"

Callie nodded. "I know that. You’re a great person, an amazing friend, and kickass doctor, but you’re a shit wife. And George is a shit husband. Don’t defend him to me because it’s not possible." Callie put her ear bud back in and flipped through her Ipod again. "Tell George I hope the roaches are warmer than the dead carp he cheated on me with."

"I’m not your freakin’ telegraph service."

"But you’re his?" Callie could only shake her head. "This topic is officially off limits from this point on, Addy. I like you. I really like you and I love that we’re friends, but one more mention of George in anything other than a ‘let me help you hide the body’ capacity is going to seriously ruin what we have."

"Fine!" Addison snapped. She wanted to relish the anger she felt at Callie, but one look at the dark circles under her friend's eyes prevented it. Reaching out, she took the Ipod from Callie and yanked the earpiece from her. "I have something else to tell you."

Callie frowned a little. "What?"

"Izzie’s hair is green." The redhead smiled devilishly. "Does that help at all?"

"Green? How? Why?"

"She got into a hot tub at the spa and it did her in."

"So I guess she’s not a natural blond."

"She’s dumb enough to be."

"And mean enough."

"She was crying in the bathroom. Someone called her an elf or something."

Callie shook her head. "I wish that’s all I had to cry about."

"You wouldn’t cry if you didn’t still love him."

"Addison-" Callie warned.

"He also asked me to tell you that he misses you and he misses your infamous hotel bubble - whatever that means."

Wordlessly, Callie stood and tossed her water into the trash. Without a backward glance, she stalked away, ignoring Addison when she called her name.

*~*~*~*~*~

Alex heard someone crying in the resident’s lounge and paused outside the door. He was technically not supposed to trespass on sacred resident turf but who was he to comply with hospital policy. Quietly pushing the door open, he found the source of the noise and stepped inside. Callie was sitting on the window seat, her legs pulled up to her chest and her face was resting against her knees. She was crying hard enough to alarm him and he clenched his fists at his sides when he considered what could have brought on the onslaught. He still could not wrap his head around Izzie and George - no - it was nauseating to even contemplate it and he had just eaten.

He shut the door behind him and smiled apologetically when the loud click caused Callie to jump and look his way. "Hey," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

"No," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Addison has suddenly decided that she is George’s biggest fan and his personal mouthpiece and she won’t shut up about it."

"But on the plus side - Izzie has green hair."

"So I heard."

"It almost matches the still greenish bruise on her eye that you gave her." He pulled an apple from his jacket pocket and said, "Want half?"

"No."

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away."

"You want to put us all out of work?"

He shrugged, still holding it out. "Come on. Eat the apple."

"No, Satan. I have enough knowledge. Too much, actually."

Alex hopped onto the window seat next to her and smiled. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Sleeping? Drinking? Crying? Moping?" Callie watched as he polished the fruit and bit into it. She saw for the first time exactly what it was about him that kept Addison up all night. She watched with wide eyes as he licked a trickle of juice from the ripe, red skin and felt her toes curl in her shoes. No, she thought, don’t go there. Ever. It’s so wrong that wrong fears it. You're lonely and sad and broken and he's - forbidden. Forbidden fruit. That's why he's eating that. Metaphors. Signs. Read the signs, idiot.

As if he hadn’t just molested the apple, Alex continued the conversation. "Because they’re having two for one night at Vinnie’s Italian Bistro and I thought you could tag along."

"What’s the catch?"

"There’s a catch now?" Alex chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "I’m tired of eating alone. And I’m cheap as hell so if I can drag a friend with me and she can eat for free then who am I to deny her?"

"We’re friends now?"

"Aren’t we?"

"Is there alcohol at Vinnie’s Italian Bistro?"

"We can bring our own."

Callie thought of her very empty, very silent hotel room. The prospect of facing it any sooner than absolutely necessary was too much. "Fine. I’m in, but what’s in it for you?"

"The company?"

"Because we get along so well or something."

"Or something." He gave her a little smirk that caused a dimple to appear in his cheek. "Any more questions, Torres?"

"*Doctor* Torres, Karev," she corrected. "And I don’t have any more questions but I want to make something clear. We are not going to talk about George."

"Or Izzie," he replied.

"Or marriage."

"Or Addison," he said.

"Why not?" Callie asked. "I could tell her how much you want her."

"No," he shook his head. "That ship has sailed."

"And you’re not going down with it?"

"I’m too busy trying to stop you from going down with yours."

Callie shrugged. "I can swim."

"So can I."

"And I don’t want to be saved."

"I didn’t say that I wanted to save you. I said I wanted to stop you. From drowning. Which is what you’re doing."

"If I wanted to drown I’d be dead right now."

"You’re mostly dead."

"Oh my god. Did you actually just quote ‘The Princess Bride’?"

Alex shook his head. "Inconceivable! I’d never watch that!"

"Alex!"

"My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Callie laughed. She actually laughed from the gut and it shocked her. "You’re so weird."

"It’s a good movie!"

"Chick flick," she replied. "You like a chick flick."

"Well, Mr. Man, what’s your favorite movie?"

Without missing a beat, Callie said, "‘The Goonies’."

Alex lifted an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Chunk rocks. I see a lot of myself in that kid."

He snorted. "Yeah, right. Hot ortho doc or short, fat boy... parallels ... not so much."

"I’m fat. And that was so me as a kid - trying like hell to fit in. And my mouth gets me into trouble and -" She trailed off, then added. "George called me ‘curvy’. Right after he waxed poetic about how perfect Izzie is. Stacked, blond, supermodel Izzie."

"You *are* curvy, but believe me when I say that they’re in all the right places." He openly eyed her chest, not caring that it was so obvious. "And not for nothing, but Izzie is not all that. She has horrible flaws inside and out."

"Inside maybe. Outside -"

"Green hair," Alex told her.

"Can be bleached."

"Wonky European teeth. And her back gets zits."

"Oh heavens! An actual chink in the beautiful armor?"

"And did I mention the self-absorbed, self-involved cruelty thing she has going for her. You know there’s something wrong with a chick who starts all her sentences with ‘I’ and usually ends them with ‘me’. Plus, she falls in love with the wrong people every time she gets the chance. Denny, George-"

"So she’s in love with him? I knew it."

"What I don’t understand is why." Alex tossed the apple core into the trash and turned back to her. "How could O’Malley -"

"Please don’t question why Miss Wonderful would fall for him. Okay?"

"What I was going to say," he replied, "is how could O’Malley find love, actual love, with you and then toss it away for the bargain basement rebound thing that Izzie used him for. That’s all he is for her. A rebound. He’s a surrogate Denny. A surrogate Denny who doesn’t even want her."

That got Callie’s attention. "He’s not with her?"

"He won’t have anything to do with her. You had all of his things sent to Meredith’s and Izzie unpacked it all into her room and he repacked every last box that same night. He took a lot of it to his parent’s place. He’s staying at that dingy little motel called-"

"We’re not talking about George."

"Fine. We’re not talking about George."

Callie nodded. "Why isn’t he with her though?"

"Why would he trade for a Pinto when he’s had the Rolls Royce?"

"You don’t have to badmouth her for me, Karev. I know that you two had a thing and she’s your friend and-"

"Actually, I do have to badmouth her. She put me through hell for cheating on her with Olivia. She said that it hurt her more than she’s ever been hurt and she judged me, hated me, and made me miserable for a long time because of it. Now she’s a mistress and she’s trying really hard to smell like roses and be the victim, but she can’t."
"You were with Olivia, too? God, you and George like to run in the same sex circles, huh?"

"Maybe." Alex openly appraised her again. "But unlike George - I know a good thing when I see it."

"Are you attempting to flirt with me?"

"Why? Is it working?"

Her pager beeped loudly and she almost jumped out of her skin. She checked the number and made a face. "Emergency room. I guess we should go."

"As you wish."

She chuckled as she hopped down. "Are you on pit?"

"The pit of despair."

"Stop with ‘The Princess Bride’ quotes! Let’s go!"

"Hey, you rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles."

"How many times have you seen that movie?!"

"Enough to know the sword fight step by step."

"Never, ever show me."

"But you should see my sword..."

"I didn’t hear that."

Alex followed after her.

She wasn’t crying anymore.

He really was a miracle worker.
Ch 3
The chapel at Seattle Grace was small and nondescript. Six pews sat on either side of a small aisle and the floor was covered in burgundy carpet. An altar with several lit candles stood at the front of the room and every pew had several boxes of tissue handy. Alex had hidden in the small room to avoid the latest couple claiming to be Ava’s parents. There was just no way the loud, obnoxious and rude people could have parented Ava. He was deep in thought, contemplating DNA tests and anything that could be done to jog Ava’s memory when Callie rushed into the room and promptly collapsed a few feet away from him.

He grabbed tissue first, but discovered the box was empty and tossed it aside. Wasting no time, he grabbed another and then kneeled beside her, instinctively wrapping his arms around her. She smelled good, like honeysuckle and roses. Or maybe cherry blossoms. He wasn’t sure, but it was soft and sweet. When she stiffened, he spoke quietly, reassuring her that it would be okay. She mumbled something about her ring and giving it back to George and when he saw that her left hand was bare, he understood what had happened.

Her tears eventually subsided and he helped her to her feet, sitting next to her on the front pew. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I don’t think so." She dabbed at her face and sniffled. "Being kidnapped isn’t very fun."

"Kidnapped?"

"George followed me into the elevator, hit the stop button, and wouldn’t let me start it again. He kept saying-"

"He stopped you from leaving when you wanted to?"

"Well, yeah. He wouldn’t let me go."

"I’ll kick his ass for that."
"Alex-"

"No. This is a *hospital*. He can’t be stranding the elevators or holding you hostage or -"

"You sound like Bailey."

"That’s a good idea. I’ll tell Bailey and *she* can kick his ass. God, she would kill him."

Callie nodded. "I gave him back the ring."

"Good. You deserved better than that anyway."

She shook her head. "I really loved it because it came from his heart. You know? He went out on his own and got it the first night we were in Vegas. I was fine using a ring that I already had, but he insisted. He was so proud."

Alex heard her voice choking up again and put an arm around her. "He’s not worth crying over."

"I honestly wanted to be married to him, Alex. I did. I really loved him and now I can’t believe how much I hate him. I genuinely, really, and truly loathe him."

"There’s a thin line between love and hate." He squeezed her hand, but didn’t let it go. "The best thing you can do is ignore him."

"I have been." Callie sighed and rubbed her stomach as it gurgled loudly.

"You’re hungry."

"I’m thirsty. The whole rule about not drinking while we practice medicine is wrong, so wrong. We do have the most stressful job on the planet."

"No, we don’t. Crab fisherman do."

Callie gasped and looked up at him. "You watch ‘Deadliest Catch’?"

"Duh! Half the fisherman live here in Seattle, Cal. Haven’t you seen Sig Hanson at Joe’s?"

"Shut up!" Her eyes widened, but Alex simply nodded at her. "You’re serious?"

"I don’t lie about crab fishing because crab, while I can’t really afford it, is my favorite food." He grinned at her. "Let me buy you a sandwich."

"Thank you, but I can’t."

"Why not."

"I’m avoiding the cafeteria. He takes his lunch break around this time and -"

"And let’s give him something to talk about." He stood and held out his hand. "You in?"

"In what?"

"Turnabout is fair play, wouldn’t you say?" He cocked his head a little. "I can’t think of anything that would bother George more than me hanging out with you. And it will piss Izzie off, too, since I’m one of the planets that she thinks is supposed to revolve around her. So, two birds with one stone, right?"

"You’re insane."

"I love to get under people’s skin. It makes my day so much happier."

"Well, God forbid I should stop you from finding a happy place."

When she stood, he took her hand in his and grinned at her. "Ready for our shocking debut?"

"Debut of what?"

"Who knows? Let’s keep them guessing."

*~*~*~*~*~

Izzie was sitting next to Meredith, self consciously poking strands of green hair under her scrub cap. Cristina slid into the seat across from her and gave her a look that was both mocking and full of glee. Izzie glared at her and said, "What? I have an appointment in two days to get it done!"

"Two full days?" Cristina snorted a little. "Miss Clairol, Izzie. Every drug store has it."

"I need a professional," Izzie replied, then brightened a little. "Oooh, there’s George." She leaned back and frantically waved at him.


Meredith and Cristina exchanged looks when George turned away and sat on the other side of the cafeteria. "Maybe he didn’t see you." Meredith told Izzie, trying to sound sincere.

"Are you kidding? He looked right at her." Cristina took a bite of her sandwich. "You made it weird, Izzie. The drunken sex? That’s even worse than George’s singing and I really doubted that he would show his face after that."

"Shut up," Izzie snapped and dug into her chocolate cake. She devoured it in about four bites and then asked Meredith for hers. She was enjoying it thoroughly when someone laughed, loudly, behind her.

Alex was sitting next to Callie, leaning unbelievably close to her, and whatever he was saying to her was apparently amusing her to no end. The three female interns watched with interest as she playfully punched him on the shoulder and he caught her hand, then whispered something in her ear. Cristina was the first to notice George, who had stood up. She tapped Meredith on the arm and pointed at him.

"Oh crap." Meredith bit her bottom lip.

"Bambi is about to get his ass kicked." Cristina pushed her plate away and fished a twenty dollar bill from her pocket. "My money is on Callie."

Izzie slowly got to her feet and took a step forward, only to be yanked backwards by Meredith. "But-"

"But nothing." Mer held her arm firmly. "I’m the one who had to x-ray your face to see if any bones were broken the last time you got near Callie and remember, I am tiny and she can hurt me, so I’m not jumping in between you two."

"Me either. I think you deserve it." Cristina took a bite of her own cake and stood so she could have a better view. "It’s like watching a little virgin about to be sacrificed."

*****

"Callie?"

Callie was still chuckling at the way Alex had changed the words to ‘You Belong To Me’ to ‘You’re A Dog With Fleas’ when George stepped up beside them. She felt Alex put a reassuring hand on her thigh and took a deep breath, keeping the smile on her face. "Dr. O’Malley, I would prefer it if you addressed me as Dr. Torres at work."

George could see exactly where Alex’s hand was and he felt his own hands fist at his sides. "What are you doing?"

Callie glanced around, then down at the untouched fruit tray in front of her. "Well, we’re in a cafeteria. I’m on a break. There’s food in front of me. I’d say I’m having lunch."

"What are you doing with *him*?"

Alex plucked a grape off Callie’s plate and tossed it into his mouth, the smirk never leaving his face. "I’m having lunch, too."

George narrowed his eyes at Karev. "You’re not going to get under my skin."

"Is that why you look like your about to have a stroke?" Alex pointed as his own face and said, "You’re all red, dude."

Ignoring him, George spoke to Callie. "Can you please come and talk to me?"

"No."

"Callie, please? I - I feel like I’m dying."

"Not yet." Alex plucked another grape and nudged her with his leg. "It just so happens that your friend here is only mostly dead. There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead."

Callie, who had taken a sip of her soda, almost blew it from her nose as she started to laugh. She laughed hard, she laughed in a way that a few days ago she had considered an impossibility. "Stop with the Princess Bride quotes!" she wiped at her mouth, still grinning. "You mock his pain."

"Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is obviously selling something." Alex chewed the grape thoughtfully as he looked up at George. "Besides, he caused his problems himself. You made your bed, Georgie, so you can sleep in it."

"Could you shut up?" George glared at him, then put his hand on Callie’s shoulder and tried to turn her to face him. "You will-

Alex caught his hand at once and stood, twisting the shorter man’s arm behind his back. "Don’t touch her and while I have your full attention let me make one thing very clear to you ... the next time you lock her in an elevator or a room or a closet or within five feet of yourself ... you’re going to need the ICU for about six months."

Callie got her feet just as George swung his right fist at Alex’s face. It clipped her in the nose and she half stumbled into Alex, whose face was now even redder than George’s had been. He grabbed her, tilted her chin, saw the blood and, still clutching George’s left hand, slammed him face first onto the table. Callie intervened before Alex could do it a second time and pulled him away. She felt her own blood dripping from her nose, over her lips, and cupped her face.

George, who finally realized who he had punched, reached for her. "Oh my god. Callie, I didn’t mean-"

Alex stepped around Callie and shoved him hard, causing George to land on his backside. "Stay the FUCK away from her!"

George scrambled back to his feet and glared at Alex. "You slept with her! You slept with my wife! My WIFE!"

"George!" Callie, who had been wrestling the napkin holder with shaking hands finally gave up and threw it on the ground in front of her. "I am not your wife! I stopped being your wife when you cheated on me with that - that good for nothing, white trash, trailer park dwelling, Anna Nicole Smith wannabe! You can have her! You deserve each other!"

"I married you!" George plucked up several of the napkins that had fallen out of the holder and held them out to her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you."

"Oh?" Callie slapped his hand away and then drew back and putting her weight into it, hit him with a right hook that spectators would claim for weeks actually lifted him off his feet. "I just meant it enough for both of us."

And with that, she turned on her heel and left the cafeteria with her head held high.

Thirty minutes later she was sitting in one of the smaller trauma rooms with an ice pack on her hand while she waited for the X-rays to come back. She knew that nothing was broken in either her nose or her hand, but Alex had insisted and because he gave her a choice of letting him check her out or strangling George with IV tubing, she agreed to the tests. The nurse finally arrived with the films and she watched as Alex tacked them to the lightboard and studied every inch of them.

"Nothing’s broken," he finally announced and shut the light off.

"Told you."

"Where did you learn to fight like that anyway?"

"I grew up in Miami and I already told you that I was the designated whipping post at school. My older brothers taught me how to fight before I was potty trained."

Alex lifted the ice pack off her hand and held it in his own, massaging it, warming it. "Remind me not to piss you off."

"You haven’t so far."

He lifted one brow. "That’s not entirely true. You were pissed last night when you found out where I lived."

"I was more shocked than pissed," she replied. "What were you doing in the chapel earlier?"

"Hiding."

"Hiding?"

He explained about the people who claimed to Ava’s parents while he slowly wrapped her hand in an ace bandage. After he secured it, he said, "Have you met her?"

"Not really. I consulted with Sloan about the bones in her face, but didn’t work the case." She studied him. "Why?"

"I think you’d like her."

"Do you like her, Alex?"

"I like her."

"Do you *like* her, Alex?"

"You know," he said, sitting next to her on the stretcher. "It’s weird. When I pulled that pylon off her face and looked down at her I saw my mother."

"Your mother?"

"I know it sounds insane because Ava is clearly younger than me, but the first real memory I have of my mother is me pulling a chair off her. My father had beaten her into unconsciousness. I couldn’t have been more than six or seven. Maybe younger. It was Christmas Eve and my dad was pissed because she didn’t have enough money for beer after she bought a turkey and stuff for a real dinner the next day.

"She had put me to bed early, telling me that Santa would come, but since he never did and my father liked to tell me I was a fucking bastard every chance he had, I wasn’t holding out much hope for Santa. But I went to bed anyway and her screams woke me up."

Saying nothing, Callie put her bandaged hand on top of his. He laced their fingers gently to avoid hurting her as he continued. "That whole night I kept talking to her and she wouldn’t wake up so I did the only thing I could think of. I put cookies beside the fireplace and a glass of milk, the way the kids at school said they were going to do, and I kneeled down and prayed that Santa would bring my mother back. Then I got a blanket from my bed and slept next to her on the kitchen floor."

Alex smiled a little. "Santa came that year. My mom woke me up that morning and she had tried to cover the bruises and the blood had been cleaned up and when I saw the used bicycle in front of the tree I knew that Dad’s beer money had bought that for me and the beating she took was so that I could have a present."

"I’m sorry," Callie whispered.

"I’ve never told anyone that story." He sounded shocked and glanced at her. "Ever."

"Then thank you for sharing it." She smiled a little. "And for not letting it break you."

"We are not our past, Callie. We’re our present and I’m okay." He glanced over at her. "Are you? Your nose could light up the sky, Rudolph."

"He was aiming at you."

"Don’t do that. Don’t make excuses for him."

"I’m not."

"You are." Alex glanced up at the big clock on the wall. "Our shifts are up. Want to get out of here?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Want to go see a movie?"

"Sure." Callie grinned at him. "Can I pick?"

"As you wish."

"Johnny Depp’s new one is out."

"I take it back."

"Now now, don’t go back on your word."

"Dammit." He made a face as he hopped off the bed and helped her down. "I pick the next one."

*~*~*~*~*~

Addison called Callie’s cell number again and frowned. She had left no less than six messages and had called at least six more only to hang up when it clicked over to voice mail. Her little black dress was clinging to her body in all the right ways and she had splurged on the Prada pumps that she had been eyeballing for weeks. She pushed her freshly washed hair over her shoulder and picked up the hotel phone, asking to be connected to Callie’s room. When there was no answer, she hung up and grabbed her purse.

In the parking garage, she noted that Callie’s car was not in the usual spot and got into her own. Her hunger had reached critical mass so she quickly left the hotel in search of food. She wasn’t exactly dressed for Joe’s but the man could make a great club sandwich and with any luck, she would find Callie there. She pulled into a spot near the entrance and ignored the catcalls that a group of men sent her way as soon as her long leg emerged from her convertible.

Once inside, she scanned the bar for her friend and took a seat at the bar. Joe appeared at once and set a glass in front of her. "Hey, Ads! How’s it going?"

"Good, you?"

"Busy night."

"I see that." Addison scanned the crowd again. "Have you seen Callie? We were supposed to be meeting for dinner."

"I haven’t seen her, but after everything I’ve heard today I’m not shocked."

"What do you mean?"

Joe leaned forward, bracing himself on his elbows. "Everyone’s talking about it. Apparently George accused Alex of sleeping with Callie in the cafeteria because those two were all over each other and then Alex and George started to fight, George accidentally hit Callie, and Callie punched him so hard that the latest estimate is that he went two feet into the air, but Yang says it was more like four feet."

"What?" Addison was scandalized. "He hit her?"

"Everyone says that he didn’t mean to do it, but she had a bloody nose and Alex played the dashing prince and fought for her honor." Joe glanced toward the small group of interns at the table in the corner. "Izzie said that Alex and Callie were having foreplay right in the middle of the food court and that the only thing stopping it from being sex was the fact that they had their scrub pants on."

Addison blinked several times. "Callie and Alex? *Karev*?"

"I know, right?" Joe shook his head and stood up a little more. "Karev gets around! It was what? A few weeks ago that I saw the two of you kissing in this very spot."

"They were kissing?" She could feel anger bubbling from somewhere deep inside. "Are you sure?"

"Well, I don’t know how many other ways you can have foreplay in public that wouldn’t get you banned from the hospital." He shrugged. "What can I get you, kiddo? You want food or spirits?"

"Uh, neither." Addison shook her head and got to her feet. "I - I gotta go."

When she grabbed her purse and turned, George was standing behind her. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy and his lip was so swollen it looked like he had an entire package of chewing tobacco tucked behind it. His jaw was mottled with bruises and he stared at her, his eyes accusing. "Did you know?" he finally asked, and his voice was hoarse from the apparent tears that he had shed. "Did you know about her and Alex?"

"No." Addison shook her head. "Joe just told me."

"He’s sleeping with her."

"Did they tell you that?"

"They didn’t deny it." George ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end and it completed the look of a man who was completely broken. "I - I just - my dad was right, you know? He said that she was the one for me, that she got me, and that I would be crazy to let her get away and I didn’t see it. I didn’t see it, Dr. Montgomery. I didn’t see it until she was gone."

"You're drunk," Addison said, digging through her purse for a tissue. "You didn’t drive here did you?"

"I’m living in my car now. Can't afford a decent place and the roaches finally got to me." George blew his nose. "I can’t go back to Meredith’s and my mother would choke me to death with her bare hands if I showed up on her doorstep and had to tell her what happened between me and Callie."

"When was the last time that you ate?"

"I dunno." George looked heavenward, his eyes tearing again. "She won’t even talk to me. I - I made a mistake that I don’t even completely remember so I don’t think I even liked it."

Addison met Joe’s gaze and the bartender shrugged. "Come on, studmuffin." Addison put an arm around his shoulder and led him toward the door. "You can sleep on the sofa at my place and we’ll order enough room service to soak up all that liquor."

"I’m never eating again."

"I know." Addison patted him on the back as she led him to her car, where she buckled him in and tried not to notice that he was in the exact same shape she had been the night Derek had left her.

*~*~*~*~*~

"Admit it." Callie took a sip of her frozen drink as the credits rolled and the lights came up. "You liked it."

"Not in a million years."

"Liar." She grinned a little as he tilted the bag of popcorn back and finished it off. "Do you have someplace that you need to be?"

"Nope."

"I’m hungry."

His eyes widened. "It’s about damn time."

"Johnny Depp. ‘Nuff said."

"Bull shit. It was the smell of this buttery popcorn that you refused to even try."

"I know a great place and they’re open late."

"Lead the way."

Thirty minutes later they were being seated outdoors at a swanky seafood place that overlooked Elliot Bay. The lighting was dim and there were two small tea candle lanterns on either side of the scrubbed wooden table. Callie ordered a glass of wine and urged Alex to do the same, telling him that it complemented the king crab legs perfectly. He figured that he could put his credit card to good use and agreed, scanning the food prices on the menu.

The manager brought the wine himself and addressed Callie by name, asking for her order. She introduced Alex and said, "Crab. Lots and lots of crab, Nate."

Bowing slightly, the manager hurried toward the kitchen and Callie beamed at Alex. "It’s your favorite food on the planet."

"It’s also the most expensive on the planet which is why I only eat it once a year."

"Then consider yourself lucky because George hated seafood of any kind and I’m rich enough to buy this restaurant, this street and probably half of Seattle."

"Huh?"

"Oh, you didn’t hear? I thought everyone knew."

"You’re rich?"

"Very."

He finally said, "Uh, how rich exactly?"

"Do you like the wine?"

"It’s actually the best I’ve ever had."

Callie lifted her hand and a waiter appeared. "We’d like the bottle, please."

She waited until the waiter was out of earshot and said, "You trusted me this afternoon and told me about your mom so I’m gonna return the favor. No one knows this either. I mean, George knows that I have money, but he has no idea how much. My family is old money. My mother is Greek and her family is one of the wealthiest in Greece. My dad is technically Cuban, but he was born here in the states. His parents had inherited millions years ago and my dad, being as business savvy as he is, put a ton of stock in the computer craze and his money quadrupled in a matter of years. Now he dabbles in real estate and oil and he has resorts and villas all over the world that turn over billions of dollars every year."

"Billions?"

"Billions." Callie leaned back in her seat as the bottle of champagne was brought to the table in a beautiful wine chiller. She plucked it out, looked at the date, and said, "That’s why paying four thousand dollars for a bottle of wine or twenty five hundred a week to stay at the Archfield really doesn’t matter to me."

Alex choked on his wine, his eyes round. "Four thous- Callie! Four thousand dollar for a bottle of *wine*?"

"It’s good. You said so yourself."

"Oh my god."

Callie bit her bottom lip as she watched him stare out over the bay. "Are you freakin’ out?"

"Why? Do most people freak out?"

"Yes. My bank account has cost me every relationship I’ve ever had and was the catalyst that drove George into Izzie’s bed. Well, that and the fact that she’s his ideal woman. His Venus. His dirty whore. God, I hate them both."

"Now who’s freakin’ out?"

"I’m not freakin’ out."

"You look like you’re freakin’ out. If you hold that glass any tighter you’ll shatter it." Alex reached across the table and took it from her. "Any more secrets?"

"Only that I’m dying."

"Come again?"

"I’m dying."

"You want to explain that one a little better?"

"When my family finds out that I’m going to be divorced they’re going to kill me. My mother claims that she already wrote me out of her will for eloping and so this? I’m signing my own death warrant by signing the divorce papers."

"How about an annulment?"

"Same difference really. My family is very religious and very old fashioned. My mother especially."

"Tell her that Jesus would not want you to stay with a cheater."

"Oh god no." Callie shook her head, her eyes wide. "If my dad or my brothers caught wind of what George did to me ... that would be signing his death warrant. I’m the baby of the family and the only girl so that makes me special."

"That’s not what makes you special."

Their food arrived and Callie reached for a piece of bread, which she savored for a while. She watched as Alex cracked into the crab legs and instead of putting them on his plate, he filled hers first, digging out the meat for her. No one had ever done that for her and she smiled as she finished off her wine and refilled her glass, then his. Their conversation was light while they ate. They joked, mostly about their weirdest patients, and finally Callie leaned back and rubbed her stomach. "God, I’m full."

"You barely ate!" He pointed at her plate, at the mound of food still there.

"You gave me ten freakin’ pounds." She scraped what remained into his plate, which was empty.

Not missing a beat, he dug in. "God, this is good. Not for nothing, you’re a damn good dinner date."

She nodded and then her mouth dropped open. "Holy hell!"

"What?"


Digging through her purse, she turned her cell phone on. It immediately beeped and she saw that Addison had called. Several times. "I was supposed to have dinner with Addison tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We were supposed to get all dressed up and look pretty and -"

"Well, you got most of it right without her. You look very pretty."

"Now I know you’re flirting with me."

"What would you say if I was? Really?"

She took a deep breath. "I’d tell you that you probably shouldn’t because I’m a little tipsy from the wine and you’re looking better and better to me and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us to pursue something right now."

"Why not?"

"Because I like you. I genuinely like you and I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next few weeks with George or my family or at work once Webber gets wind of what happened today so-"

"I’m a big boy. I can take it."

"It wouldn’t be fair to you, Alex. Don’t you get it?"

"You’re not ready."

"I’m not ready."

"But if you were -"

"We would have already been back at my room and halfway there," she stated bluntly.

"You’re wrong."

"Am I?"

"You wouldn’t be halfway there. You would have been there several times and we’d just be getting started good."

She swallowed hard and licked her lips, glancing down at her hands. Her ring had left an indentation in her finger that refused to go away. Closing her eyes, she remembered the way George’s hands shook as he slipped the simple, silver band over her finger. He had never taken his eyes off her and she believed him when he spoke his vows in a strong, succinct voice. Her eyes found Alex’s again and she shook her head. "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay." He leaned forward and used his thumb to wipe away a small amount of butter from her cheek. "You can’t blame a guy for trying, though."

"You’re good at trying."

"I’m even better at waiting. And I will wait."

*~*~*~*~*~

Alex dropped her off at the hotel and slowly meandered the residential streets until he pulled into Meredith’s driveway. The moon was full and seemed to hang directly over him, bright and shiny. Making a mental note to joke with Callie the next morning about werewolves, he grabbed his duffel bag, which contained his soiled scrubs, and headed into the house, whistling. Meredith was sitting on the bottom of the stairs, a cup of hot cocoa in her hands.

"Hey," he said, shutting the door behind him. "You’re up late."

"Cristina is sleeping in my bed again. She flails."

Alex glanced into the living room, but Derek wasn’t on the sofa. "And Shepherd?"

"We’re in an off phase. He met a woman."

"There’s a lot of that going around." Alex dropped the duffel at his feet and sat down next to her.

"What are you doing with Callie?"

"Trying to keep her mind off O’Malley."

"Don’t you think you should stay out of it?"

"Not really. She’s my friend."

"Since when?"

"You know - I’ve listened to all of you at one time or another bitch about her. Izzie’s the fucking worst, but all of you have said things. George made a mistake. He rushed into something with her. She’s not good enough for him. She’s a bitch, she’s a whore. And you know what?"

"We were wrong?"

"Exactly. And she genuinely loved him. And she’s genuinely hurt in the most horrible way possible. I saw what I did to Izzie when I slept with Olivia and we weren’t even technically together at the time. Callie’s hurting and she doesn’t have anyone on her side."

"It’s not that we’re not on her side, Alex, but George - George is one of us. We’re the interns!"

"Is that really something to be proud of though? One of us? Look at the mistakes we’ve made. And when you really think about it, it shouldn’t be us against them, because we’re going to be one of them one day very soon."

"That’s true." Meredith sipped her cocoa and sighed. "But a little bit of friendly advice? If you’re sleeping with her you should stop. If you haven’t, you shouldn’t. Sex complicates everything and solves nothing."

"I’m not sleeping with her. I wanted to, but I didn’t. She wouldn’t."

"Really? I just figured that since she was with McManWhore-"

"See, you’re wrong about her again."

"That’s not all we were wrong about," Izzie said, walking down the stairs behind them. She sat behind Meredith and wrapped her arms around her bare legs. "George does love her. He loves her and not me." She glanced up at the ceiling and her eyes brimmed with tears. "God, it sounded different out loud than it did in my head."

"Most things do," Meredith offered, then handed Izzie her cup. She watched as the blond took several sips, handed it back to her, and dried her eyes. "Things will work out. They usually do."

"Since when are you Polly Sunshine?" Cristina joined them, her hair sticking out like curly horns and her eyes puffy from sleep. She grabbed the mug of chocolate and drained it, then crossed her arms. "It’s either too late at night or too early in the morning to be having a bonding moment."

"Why are you awake then?" Alex asked.

"Because Bethany Whisper over here has been playing the same sad shit for the past forty minutes and crying off key. Which apparently means that Bambi isn’t in her bed for a change."

"It was *one* time!" Izzie shouted. "Once! And it was a big deal to me because it was right after ... right after Denny died and it felt right."

"Everything feels right when you’ve had enough bourbon." Cristina rubbed her eyes. "I once sutured my own leg at a frat party and didn’t even realize it for two days."

"How did you cut it open?" Alex asked.

"I didn’t." Cristina glared at him. "I was practicing my technique. And in case you failed to notice I do have the best suturing technique in our year. Yours usually look like loose shoe strings."

"How long is she going to be living here?" Alex asked, glaring at Meredith.

"Until Burke stops being an ass."

"Burke is always an ass."

"Then I guess she’s here to stay."

"I really gotta find a place," Alex said. He stood and picked up his bag.

"Alex?" Izzie asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"Is she okay? I mean, Callie?"

"How do you think she is?"

"Not good," Izzie replied.

"Would you sleep better if I told you that she cried her heart out and wants to die?"

"No!"

"Fine, I’ll tell you the truth. She’s strong and she’s okay. This isn’t beating her and she’s not going to hide under the bed or let either one of you get to her because she’s better than that." His eyes met Izzie’s and he added. "She’s better than you and it’s no wonder George would rather have her. Wouldn’t we all?"

Izzie jumped to her feet and rushed back up the stairs, her sobs hanging in the air. Cristina sighed and said, "I’m sleeping on the sofa."

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 4
*~*~*~*~*~

Callie made a quick pit stop by the vending machine in the lobby of the hotel. She didn’t have much experience with female friends but one language was universal in female and that language was chocolate. With her arms laden and her belly full for the first time in days, she rode the elevator to Addison’s room with a smile on her face. She had to knock on the door with her foot and after a few minutes, the redhead opened it and peered out.

"Hey." Callie nodded at the wine glass in her hand. "Whatcha drinking?"

"Rum."

"Is the rum gone?"

"What are you doing?"

"Sorta quoting ‘Pirates Of The Caribbean', which you loved as much as me."

"Oh." Addison watched her closely, trying to gauge whether or not Callie felt remotely guilty for what she had done. "So, what *are* you doing?"

"Nothing says I’m sorry like carbs and I’m really sorry that I missed dinner." Callie moved her arms a little and almost dropped a package of donuts. "Ack! Can I come in?"

"Sure. Why the hell not? I should just leave the door open all the time."

Callie glanced at her, noting the way she slurred her words, before moving past her and dropping the assortment of goodies on the table nearest the door. Taking off her jacket, she turned and smiled at her friend, opening her mouth to speak. That smile slowly faded when she saw that Addison was not alone. George was curled up on the sofa, a blanket pulled around him like a second skin, his knees drawn upward. His snore broke the silence and pulled Callie from her shock. "What the fuck, Addison?"

Addison drained her glass, shut the door behind her and crossed her arms. "Well, I can only imagine, seeing as how I wasn’t there to witness it myself, that him seeing you and Alex Karev making out in front of the entire hospital hurt his feelings. I imagine his feelings aren’t nearly as hurt as his face, though. Nice job being mature and grown up, Callie."

"Wait!" Callie held a hand up. "Wait. WHAT!?"

"This is your *husband*, Callie. Your *husband* and he made a horrible mistake. What you did today, though? That was on purpose. You intentionally broke him."

"I didn’t do anything!"

"You didn’t hit him?"

"He hit me first!"

"Did he mean to?" Addison took a step forward. "Did he mean to hit you? Or was he aiming at someone else?"

"Someone else."

"Who?"

"He was aiming at Alex," Callie replied.

The redhead’s eyes widened and she put a hand on her chest. "Really? And why is that?"

"Why is what?" Callie questioned.

"Why were you with Alex?"

"Gee, I don’t know, Addison. Could it possibly be because we had lunch together?"

"Is that what it was? I heard that you were practically having sex with him on the cafeteria table!"

"Who told you that!?"

"Joe. He heard it from Izzie."

"OH! OH! Of course he did!" Callie shouted, throwing her hands in the air. "Of course it has to be the truth! Because Izzie fucking Stevens is apparently a walking prayer book. We already had a Virgin Mary. She can be the Virgin Whore."

"What are you doing with Alex? Trying to make George jealous? Look at him! He’s living in his car, he’s been drinking himself into a stupor every night, and he loves you! I know that he loves because-"

"Because you have been in his shoes! I know!"

"I was going to say that we’ve had a lot of conversations while you were gone and I’m really getting tired of you throwing my past in my face." Addison’s hands were shaking so she shoved them into the pockets of her robe. "Were you with Alex tonight?"

"Yes, mommy. After being punched in the face, humiliated beyond belief, and finally finishing my shift I went to see a movie with him and then we had dinner. And the night before that we had Italian food."

"That’s where you were!? I - I knew it! I told you that Alex had apparently met someone and you just stood there acting like you had no clue!"

"You told me that you and Mark, remember him, the guy you broke *your* marriage apart for, were getting back together because he loved you!"

"So then you *are* with Alex!"

"No, I am not!"

Addison shook her head, her eyes narrow. "I know that you don’t have many female friends and I really don’t have to wonder why now, but let me school you a little just in case some other unsuspecting girl comes along and *tries* to like you. When you know that your friend, that would be me, has been fantasizing about someone, in this case that would be Alex, and they confide that in you ... YOU DO NOT FUCKING DATE THEM, BITCH!"

Callie’s jaw dropped in anger. And shock. It took all of her resolve to keep from lashing out. She took a deep breath and turned, clutching the back of the chair so tightly that her fingers hurt. She gathered her jacket in her fists and exhaled slowly before facing Addison again. Her tears were hot on her cheeks when she said, "You’re drunk. And because of that I’m going to go and I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that to me."

"Truth hurt?"

"Stop."

"Get the hell out of my room." Addison glared at her, then opened the door for and with a tilt of her head, made it very clear that Callie was being dismissed.

Callie walked to the door, and since she was as tall as Addison, looked her right in the eye. "I’m sorry to bring your past up again, because you’re clearly in denial about it, but if we’re going to talk about schooling someone then let me tell you one thing. I was Team Addison. I protected you from the raunchy prom sex that I walked into." She saw the shock on Addison’s face. "Oh yeah. I didn’t say a word because I didn’t want to see you hurt and I didn’t even know you at the time. I have never judged you and I have never questioned your decisions, but now? Now I’m walking around in Derek’s shoes and I know exactly what it felt like for him when he came home and saw you and Mark together in his bed. Now some people may say that you were hanging around Seattle and were about to pick things up with Mark again because you know how much that would hurt Derek, but-"

"That’s a -"

"That’s a lie? Wow. That sounds like the exact same lie that Izzie told about me and Alex. He’s my friend, Addison. And it’s really nice to know that I have one left." She looked back at the sofa, where George rolled onto his side and snored again. "Have fun with your little brother. Apparently you trained him well."

"Callie-"

With her jacket over her arm, Callie stalked toward the elevator and didn’t look back.

*~*~*~*~*~

At noon the next day, Callie was reclining in a lounge chair beside the pool. Her sunglasses, fashionably overlarge and far too expensive, hid the puffiness in her eyes. Untouched magazines were on the ground next to her chair and her Gameboy, well charged from lack of use, lay against her thigh. She watched with mild interest as a couple of women walked past and flopped into vacant seats a few feet away. Two weeks ago, Callie and Addison had been in that same spot doing exactly what they were doing: gossiping, laughing, and enjoying a day off.

Callie picked up her Ipod and stuck the bud in her ear. After ten minutes of changing every song choice, she gave up and made a mental note to replace every stupid love song with angry girl music. She adjusted the strap of her red bathing suit and attempted to get comfortable. She was close to dozing when a shadow fell across her.

"What? You can’t nap in your room?" Mark Sloan took the empty lounger to her left and flopped out on his stomach. "Want to put sunscreen on my back?"

"And decrease your chances of catching skin cancer? Never!"

He held the tube up and said, "I already did my front. Come on, please?"

"No."

"Why not. Afraid that the memories will be too much for you?"

"Shut up."

Resigned to the fact that she was not going to help him out, Mark made a big show of rolling over and putting his arms behind his head. The Speedo he wore would have been ridiculous on anyone else, but the way he wore it was anything but. "So, what are you doing?"

"The same thing you are."

"I’m looking at your boobs. Are you looking at your own boobs, freak? Is that why the glasses are so big?"

"There are about thirty empty spaces out here, Sloan. Why don’t you move? I’m trying to enjoy my day off."

"Hell. So am I."

"Hush."

Callie enjoyed the silence and attempted to relax again, but her cellphone vibrated for the millionth time and she picked it up, gazed at the number, and laid in back on her lap where it continued to vibrate.

"You can’t really expect me not to mention the fact that you are purposely letting your phone vibrate *there*." Mark rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. "Is that your husband?"

"I don’t have a husband."

"You didn’t have a boyfriend either. Funny thing, that. Because I would swear that you eloped with your *boyfriend* not long after we hooked up."

"Am I gonna have to call security?"

"No." Mark grinned at her. "I saw your non husband pounding on your door earlier. I think he’s still sitting up there."

"Great." Callie pulled her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose, which was aching more today than she would have liked. Several Tylenol had not stopped it and neither had the three White Russians she had enjoyed for lunch.

Mark saw how red and swollen her eyes were and said, "Wanna talk about it?"

"Negative."

"For what it’s worth ... Addison looks worse."

She put her glasses back on and stared at him. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"Well, she drunk dialed me at midnight, crying her eyeballs out because you two had a fight. I had to go round up Kleenex, with aloe of course, and hold her hair while she puked all night. And the Prince Charming who isn’t your husband slept through it like a baby."

Callie sighed. "I need a vacation from my life. And I need to get out of this hotel."

"Addison’s finally asleep, by the way."

"Good for her."

"You get that she was drunk, right? Anything she said-"

"Wow. That excuse has become so popular. Sleep with your best friend? It’s supposed to be okay because they were drunk. Call your best friend a bitch and I’m supposed to just overlook it because someone can’t hold their rum."

"She loves you. You’re the best friend she’s ever had and -"

"Did she send you down here?"

"She suggested that maybe I could run interference. She wanted me to remind you that she’s got a temper to match her hair," he said. "What did you guys fight about anyway?"

"Not really your business."

"She wouldn’t tell me either."

"Then stop nosing around." Her phone vibrated again and she checked the number.

"Why don’t you just talk to him?"

"Mark-"

"Look, I really don’t want to catch Frodo on Addison’s sofa again. I have a plan where she’s concerned and while I’m sure your little man could stand to learn a thing or two I’d rather not have an audience. So take one for the team and suck it up!"

"Jackass."

Callie stood, grabbed her sarong and shoved her feet into her flip flops. Saying nothing, she gathered her belongings and stormed past him. It wasn’t until she saw George sitting outside her hotel room that she remembered that Mark had given her fair warning. She tried to turn, but he saw her and jumped to his feet. "Callie! Wait!"

Mumbling every swear word she had ever heard and a few that made no sense, she turned and purposely held her head up as she walked past him and unlocked the door. The room was a mess and the suitcase that she had taken with her to North Carolina was upended and the contents were scattered around the floor. She had done that the previous night and made no apologies for the carnage as George followed her into the room and softly closed the door behind him.

She went to the closet and grabbed a pair of jeans, which she slipped over her swimsuit and hastily buttoned. Next, she yanked a white button down shirt from the hanger and tied it at her waist. When she finally turned to face George, he was leaning with his back against the door, watching her. "Are you planning on blocking me again?"

"No."

Callie was glad that she still wore her sunglasses because seeing George in this state, no matter how much he deserved it, got to her. It reminded her, as he drew the back of his hand across his eyes, of his father’s funeral. As they had made their way, hand in hand, to the open casket for the first time he had leaned close to her and whispered, ‘Stay close to me.’

And she had.

Anger quickly erased the memory and she turned to the window, refusing to look at him. "Addison said that she made sure you got all your things from the room."

George sniffled a little. "No, I left something."

"Then get it and go, George."

"All right." Suddenly he was behind her and his arms were around her waist. "I’ve got it, but I don’t want to go."

She bit her bottom lip when his chin rested against her shoulder and his cheek pressed against hers. She stiffened and he moved one of his hands so that it was resting over her heart. "I love you," he said and it was the cracking of his voice that stilled her, that prevented her from pushing him away. "Callie, I really, really love you and I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t mean much, but you have to believe me. I mean, you see that I’m here. You see that I haven’t been within five feet of her since-"

"Stop." Callie shrugged him off and turned to face him.

"Talk to me."

"You want me to talk to you? Fine."

"Just tell me what you’re thinking."

"I’m just - I’m just done, George. You know? I’m done. I’m tired. I’m tired of doubting you and chasing you and begging you for your time. I’m tired of feeling like someone you settled for -"

"That’s not how I feel."

"Stop it!" she shouted. "That is exactly how you feel. You stood in that exact spot and told me that Izzie didn’t have feelings for you. You *laughed* at me, George. You laughed at me for telling you the truth and then you put me down! She’s the supermodel and I’m the curvy nothing who was too stupid to realize that nothing would change after we got married."

"But-"

"You asked me to talk to you and bygod, I’m not finished." She held up her hand to stop him. "As hard as it is to hold my head up at the hospital when I know that everyone is laughing at my expense ... that pales in comparison to how dumb I was to believe you when you came here and asked me to marry you. That is the humiliating part because you’re the bad guy who cheated, but I’m the complete moron who actually thought that some great guy could love me. Me, George. Not my money, because you didn’t know about it. Not my father’s big business, because you didn’t know about that either. Not because I was ahead in the program and aced the intern exam and you could cheat off me. You were on your knee asking *me*. And I fell for it."

"Is that - have guys done that to you before? Dated you for you money? Because of who your dad is?"

"I already told you that. Remember? You were too busy yelling at me for not telling you about my money that you didn’t pay attention to the part where I said that it had cost me every relationship I’ve ever been in."

"Wait." George shook his head. "You told me that I was the only guy you’ve ever loved."

"Which is true. Which clearly illustrates that I’m better off in a string of dead end relationships than chasing after one that I can never have."

"You have me. All of me. Callie, don’t - don’t you remember? Remember when we had lunch with your dad and he spilled the drink on my lap."

"Mmm, I should thank him for that." She grabbed an elastic band and piled her hair in a pony tail. "I have to go."

"Listen to me!" He grabbed her, forcing her to look at him. "At lunch that day, with your dad? That’s when I remembered. When he spilled the drink on me. I didn’t even remember it until then which is what I’ve been trying to tell you."

"It took a glass of cold water on your crotch to make you remember?"

George nodded, wide eyed. "That ought to tell you something. And I still don’t - I mean, I only remember bits and pieces. I was so drunk that I don’t even know how I did it."

"Well, you did." Callie shrugged. "And this isn’t something that I can just deal with. This changed everything."

"Are you sleeping with Alex?"

She laughed. It was a cruel, hateful sound. "You don’t get to ask me anything about my sex life after what you did."

"Are you? Just --- are you?"

"It’s none of your business."

"You’re my *wife*."

"Not for long." She grabbed her purse and put it over her shoulder. "I’m seeing a lawyer next week."

"No - no, don’t do that."

"Don’t worry, George. You won’t have to go empty handed. I’m sure that the fact that I paid off your student loans won’t really matter. You’ll still get plenty."

"What?!"

"Oh, right. That was gonna be a surprise." She glared at him. "Yeah, I paid off your student loans and I was going to give that to you for your birthday so you wouldn’t have to worry about it while we looked for a house. But now you’ll be able to buy a house anyway because I’m sure that your lawyer will take at least half of everything I have and then you can spend it all on your bestest friend."

"I - I don’t want your money! I want you!"

Callie said nothing for a while, just gazed at him. Finally, she said, "Don’t you see what you’ve done? I’ve lost respect at the hospital. Addison’s on your side. My family will disown me once I shame them with a divorce and I’m stuck here for at least two more years. I have to see your face for two years, until I’m done with my Residency. Until I can get the hell away from you."

"But-"

"You don’t want me, George!" she yelled and the severity in her voice shocked both of them. "You’ve taken all I have! I have nothing left to give!"

She purposely bumped her shoulder against his as she stormed past him. The door slammed behind her and she stalked down the hallway, not sure where she was going, but convinced that she had to go.

George sat down on the bed, his face buried in his hands. And he cried.

Twenty minutes later the phone rang and out of habit he picked it up. "Hello?"

"O’Malley?" asked a man.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Is my daughter there?"

"Who?"

"O’Malley, how many women do you live with?"

"Right, uh, hello, Mr. Torres."

"My child is not returning any phone calls. Would you happen to know why?"

"I’m sorry. I don’t," he lied. "I - I know she’s been really slammed at the hospital."

"Well, tell her that her mother has arranged the wedding party for the two of you and since we understand how your schedules are we’ll be bringing it to you."

"Excuse me?"

"Roughly one hundred of our friends and family members as well as anyone she wants to invite there. Melaina, that would be Callie’s mother, has made arrangements for the grand ballroom there at the Archfield. Mark your calendar for not this Saturday, but the next. If memory serves that was a date that Callie implied would be free for both of you. We’ve chartered the flights already so don’t let her change the date. I’m sure you’ve seen by now that she’s stubborn as hell so tell her that it’s concrete and if she backs out she will not like the results. Okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Mr. O’Malley?"

"Sir?"

"My wife is not nearly as kind as I am so you’ll want to make a better impression on her than you did me."

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 5
*~*~*~*~*~

Callie was leaving the liquor store when her cell vibrated against her hip. She checked the number and smiled a little before she answered. "Rick’s Pool Hall. Eight ball, speaking."

"How’s my favorite twin?"

"I’m your only twin, Cam." Callie put the bottle in the back seat of her open convertible and leaned against the car. "How’s my favorite brother?"

"Oooooh," Cam replied. "I’m telling Loukas and Stavros that you said that."

"We shared a womb. You wouldn’t do that to me."

"I was born first, little sister."

"With all the wisdom and knowledge that six whole minutes gave you," she laughed. "Why don’t you tell me what’s new?"

"Why are you screening your calls? Our mother is so pissed at you that she has taken our family photo down from the mantle and put one up of Loukas and Stavros from before we were born."

"Jesus, Cam. What did you do to piss her off?"

"Well, I’m still gay. And I’m bringing Blake to your elopement party."

Callie started to laugh and then her face fell. "To my what?"

"Elopement party. The one that she has been planning for weeks now."

"What? When?"

"This is why you shouldn’t screen your calls. Not this Saturday night, but next. Mom has three jets bringing our dearest and most annoying relatives, but my invitation was lost in the mail apparently. Blake predicted it would be. Dad went behind her back and put us on the last flight out. They’re on the first."

"That’s only two weeks! We have to stop it."

"Yeah, because Mama running us through with her grandfather’s sword would be a pleasant way to die," Cam chuckled. "Besides, Dad said that he talked to your husband and ... do you know how weird that is for me? You have a husband! Anyway, he talked to him a few minutes ago and he’s okay with it."

"Daddy talked to George?"

"Yeah. I guess he’s not screening *his* calls."

There was a long pause and Cam finally added, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah ... I’m fine."

"You sound upset?"

"No." Callie swallowed hard and wiped the tears off her face as if he could somehow see them. "I - allergies or whatever."

"Here’s the part where I remind you that I know you better than I know myself. Now, talk."

"Rough week."

"What’s wrong? Married life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?"

"Something like that."

"You want me to beat him up?"

"I already did that." The tears were coming a little faster now. "Cam?"

"Yeah?"

"I made a mistake. I - I shouldn’t have married him."

"What happened?"

"He doesn’t love me."

"Well, now that’s not humanly possible. Does he know you? Has he seen you? Of course he loves you," he soothed. "Look, I’m no expert on marriage and since our entire lack of a President refuses to let me marry Blake then I can’t really comment on your marriage, but relationships ... I know relationships. And they’re hard and it’s a constant struggle."

"He cheated on me." When there was no reply, Callie put her head in her free hand and said. "Cam? Cambyses Torres, you cannot tell. You can’t tell Daddy. He’ll - he’ll kill him."

"No. He’s not going to get the chance. I’m flying out tonight."

"No! Don’t! Okay? My life is complicated enough right now. I can’t - I can’t do this. I’m gonna see a lawyer and - and get a divorce or -"

"Oh my god," he said. "Mama would forgive you for murder before she forgave you for that! You know how she is! Do you remember when we stole Uncle Kakistos’s boat and sank it?"

"You mean his yacht and how could I possibly forget almost dying to save your flailing ass."

"There could have been sharks."

"I’m sure you scared them off with said flailing."

"My point is that she buried our pictures in the back yard, Callie. She made Loukas and Stavros dress up for a funeral and pretended we were dead for eighteen months. She didn’t speak to us, she refused to eat with us, and told everyone that we were on vacation in Italy even though we standing right there for introductions."

Callie had to smile a little at the memory. "She called us hired help."

"And we were only ten. She’ll never talk to you again. Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"Yeah. And no. I mean - I hate him and I want to strangle him with my bare hands ... and I also love him so much it hurts." She didn’t try to hide her sobs now. "I can’t - I can’t even look at him and not want to let him apologize and make it better and fall asleep on his shoulder like I always do. Like I did. I mean, talking about us in the past tense is killing me and he keeps crying and begging and saying he’s sorry and God I want to believe it and I keep falling into him every single time he looks at me and I can’t - I can’t breathe when I’m near him. And I’m choking to death without him. What do I do? What am I supposed to do, Cam?"

"Oh, sweetie," he replied, his voice soft. "Only you can decide what you want to do. I can’t - I don’t know what to say. I can only tell you Mama has thrown herself into planning this party and you know that she had your wedding planned from birth so this is all she has. She pulled out all the stops, Cal. It’s gonna be huge. She hired a band, catered in enough food to feed a third world country, and she’s determined to accept this elopement thing. If you tell her that it’s off it’s gonna hurt her and I don’t always like our mother, but I do live in the same zipcode as her and I saw first hand how much it hurt her when you broke the news that you had gotten married to begin with. She’s taking a huge step by doing this."

"So, you think I should pretend to be happy and smile and pose with him for photos and act like I’m not dying inside."

"Honestly? Yeah, I do. It’s one night. What you decide to do after that is up to you. And I really want to see you and the only way Dad’s letting me off is if I’m coming there for the party."

"Okay."

"I’ll still beat him up if you want."

"Nah, just promise me the first salsa."

"Are you kidding? I claim the first and last salsa." Cam sighed a little. "I love you, kid."

"I love you, too. Don’t tell anybody. Okay?"

"I promise."

They said their goodbyes and Callie closed the phone. Drying her face, she opened the car door and the lone bottle of bourbon she had purchased caught her eye. With a determined nod, she closed the door and headed back into the liquor store to buy the biggest bottle they had. She was drowning anyway. Miserable. Lost. Her tears were coming and she couldn’t stop them.

But maybe she could delay them for a while by swimming to the bottom of the bottle and she knew that when she was there ... nothing would hurt anymore.

Fifteen minutes later, she parked her car in her designated spot in the deck beside the Archfield. It was hot and humid inside the cement walls after the afternoon shower that had come and gone earlier. The top was down on her car and she left it running, letting the air blow into her face as she opened the smaller of the two bottles, took a deep breath, and drank down over half. She grimaced, gagged a little, and drew the back of her hand over her mouth. Before she could change her mind she tipped the bottle again and in less than fifteen minutes, the bourbon was gone and the second, larger bottle, was giving her a hard time. After three tries, she finally got it open and took a few pulls.

Thirty minutes later the car was spinning and the only logical allowance her brain would concede was to crawl into the backseat and lie down.

It never dawned on her that the engine was still running.

*~*~*~*~*~

Addison pulled her tongue away from the roof of her mouth and grimaced. Something had woken her up and as she opened her bloodshot eyes and looked around, someone pounded on the door again. She rolled onto her back, her arms flung wide and stared up at the ceiling. Whoever was at the door was persistent and she groaned when her feet hit the floor and she attempted to lift her head off the pillow. It was heavy, so heavy that her neck protested angrily and then her stomach muscles joined the chorus and gave her a stark, visual reminder of the marathon projectile vomit that she had managed the night before.

She smiled a little. She’d have to tell Callie about the - And then the memories of the night before hit her like a sledgehammer. She looked at the sofa and saw that it was empty and there was no sign of the blanket George had used. She could have imagined it, but as she stood and saw the array of junkfood Callie had arrived with she knew it was not her imagination at all. With a groan, she put her hand over her mouth and shook her head.

"Addison?" Mark knocked again, harder now. "I can hear you. Open the door."

She stumbled across the room and let him in. "I have to go talk to Callie."

He caught her around the waist as she started past him and said, "You may want to talk to the mirror first."

"What?"

He pointed at the floor to ceiling mirrors on the far wall. Addison turned and gasped. She wore a tanktop and panties, her usual sleeping gear, but her hair was plastered to her cheek and her make up had not only run, something that looked suspiciously like vomit had dried on her chest. "Damn," she said and slowly crept forward for a closer look. "What did I do?"

Mark pulled the cover back on her bed and wrinkled his nose. "Where do you put it all, Addison? Because for five hours I watched you puke so how you managed to do it again is beyond me."

"Ugh," she groaned again. "My stomach is killing me."

"You turned it inside out. It should." He stripped the sheets off and picked up the phone, leaving a message for housekeeping. "Go take a shower."

"Did you talk to her?"

Mark didn’t have to ask who the ‘her’ in question was. "Yep. She’s pissed as hell."

"What did she say?"

"Not a lot. She wouldn’t tell me what the two of you fought about either."

"It was too stupid to ever mention again."

"Look, if you ladies want to fight over me I can understand."


Addison shot him a look and pretended to vomit. "You wish."

"Then you must be fighting over O’Malley. I guess she wasn’t thrilled to see you taking care of the enemy."

"Stop trying to figure it out, jackass."

"Ohhh, that’s exactly what she called me." Mark sat down at the table and opened a package of donuts. "I’m starving. Will you go get ready?"

"For what?"

"You need to eat. And the fact that I am brave enough to take you out after witnessing firsthand that you can’t hold anything down should prove to you that I really do love you, Addison."

"I hate love!" Addison snapped, yanking her closet open. She dug through until she found a pair of slacks and a shirt and then turned to face him again. "You stayed last night."

"Through it all. The hair holding. The consoling. I can take care of you. I’m not just good in bed -- I’m a good best friend."

"Callie’s my best friend."

"I don’t think she’s seeing it that way right now." He watched as Addison’s face fell, then stood and took her hand in his. "That’s not to say she won’t come around. The sooner you get a shower we can go and you can call her. I’ll even play referee if you want."

"Do you really mean it, Mark? When you say that you love me?"

"I haven’t had sex in twenty seven days. And last night when you crawled into my lap in the bathroom floor and I put my arms around you ... it felt like coming home. I’ve loved you for a long time and you’re the only person in the world that makes me want to be the person you think I should be." He pulled a string of matted hair from her face, and cupped her cheek. "I love you. You’re the reason I’m here, the reason I stayed, and the woman that I want to spend my life with. Of course, I prefer the cleaner version, but I’d take you this way if it was the only way you’d come."

She smiled a little and said, "I don’t know if that was sincere or sexual, but it was nicely done."

"It was both. Want some company in the shower? Maybe I can take care of those hard to reach areas."

Addison bit her bottom lip and hated the way he smiled at her, hated the way his hand traced her chin, hated the way he smelled so familiar and safe. She nodded her head before her mouth could protest and turned, knowing that a decision had been made and she prayed it was for the right reasons.

*~*~*~*~*~

"Holy Mary Mother of God. Stop ringing! Hello?"

"Callie?"

"Who said that?"

"It’s Alex. Are - what are you doing? Are you crying?"

Callie sniffled. When she finally spoke it was a sob. "Why am I not in a coma yet? Stop waking me up now. Okay. Bye."

"What!? Don’t hang up! Where are you?"

"In my car. I’m gonna run out of gas."

"Where’s your car, Callie?"

"Archfield."

"I’m on my way. Gimme fifteen minutes."

"Don’t bother."

"Is that your car running that I hear?"

"Don’t worry. I haven’t died in an hour of trying so it’s not likely to happen in fifteen minutes. Jesus hates me." As an afterthought, she added. "Fuck clean air."

"Turn the car off."

"Okay."

"Do it now."

"Okay." Callie, who was sprawled face down in the backseat of her car made no attempt at moving.

"You didn’t do it, did you?"

"Not really."

"I’ll be right there." Alex hung up and called Addison’s cell.

Moments later Callie’s car was turned off and she felt a hand on her back, then her hair was pushed away from her face. Even in her drunken stupor she recognized Addison’s red hair, although the face was a blur. "Not funny, God. And I’ve been praying, too! Damn it."

"What the hell are you trying to do?" Addison shook her, hard. "Get your ass up."

"Stop driving in a circle, Addy. It’s rude. And there are speed bumps!"

"Jesus." Mark opened the passenger door and sat down, peering into the backseat with Addison. "How much did you drink, Torres?"

It was work, but Callie managed to wrestle the empty bottle from beneath her and she held it out. Her eyes were out of focus when they landed on Mark. "Hey! I did die! I’m in hell and Satan’s here, too."

"She’s toast." Mark took the bottle from her and said, "Did you drink all of this."

"That was my second bottle, right? Was it two? Didn’t even breathe! Just choked it down." Callie nodded, then she belched and found it so funny that she practically rolled off the backseat.

"That’s too much alcohol too fast. She needs to throw up," Addison said.

Mark pushed the seat forward and gripped Callie under the arms. She put up a good fight and by the time Mark had her out of the car he was winded and she had slumped onto the pavement. Addison, who had joined them, kneeled down beside Callie and felt her skin. "She’s cold."

"Don’t you call me any more names, Addison!" Callie growled, pushing her hands away. "I would punch you in the eye if you would be still. You are a very, very bad friend and I hope your tits sag."

"There is nothing wrong with my tits and your very, very bad friend is going to stick her finger down your throat to help you out." Doing just that, Addison tilted the younger woman forward and waited for her gag reflex to kick in.

When three attempts yielded nothing, Addison frowned. It took a split second for it to dawn on her that Callie wasn’t moving, wasn’t struggling, and she pulled her upright, slapping her face. "She’s not breathing. Mark, she’s choking!"

Mark moved fast. He pulled Callie from Addison’s arms, pinned her back against his chest, and began the Heimlich maneuver. Callie spasmed, coughed and vomited, effectively clearing her airway which had been blocked. "We have to get her to the ER."

Alex squealed to a stop a few feet away from them and leapt from his jeep. "How is she?" he asked, tilting her head back. She was still in Mark’s arms and her head lolled from one side to the other. "What did she drink?"

"A fifth of bourbon for sure. She mentioned more." Addison reached for the second bottle and drew up short. There was an empty pill bottle lying in the back seat. She picked it up, glanced at the label, and said, "Get her in the car."

"What?"

"Get her in the car! NOW!"

Alex and Mark both saw the empty bottle at the same time and Alex grabbed Callie’s feet, helping Mark lift her over the side of her convertible, which was thankfully open. Alex jumped into the driver’s seat and sped away with her as Addison and Mark climbed in Alex’s jeep to follow. Alex ran two red lights, almost hit a parked car, and took the entrance to the hospital fast enough for the tires to protest loudly. He slammed to a halt at the entrance to the emergency room and was relieved to see that there was a stretcher waiting. Someone must have called ahead.

"Possible overdose." Alex said, as he lifted her out of the car and deposited her on the gurney.

Dr. Bailey gasped and looked down at Callie. "What the- Karev? What did she take?"

"Fifth of bourbon and -- and, shit, I don’t know! Addison’s bringing the bottle."

He helped Bailey push her inside and yanked his jacket off. Without being told, he started an IV and drew her blood himself. He was vaguely aware that Izzie was on duty and that she had been shouted at by Bailey to move her ass. He took a step back as Cristina and Meredith answered the same page that had apparently summoned Izzie. "Meredith?"

"Yeah?"

"Call George," Alex said softly, running a hand over his hair.

"I already did."

"Callie? Callie, open your eyes and talk to me." Bailey slapped her cheeks a couple of times. "Unresponsive. Her skin is blue, clammy. What’s the temperature, Stevens?"

Izzie rattled off a number that was incredibly low and Bailey began barking out orders to the three female interns. Meredith was sent for warming blankets. Cristina rushed out for a gastric lavage kit and Izzie was sent running to the lab with Callie’s blood. Addison arrived in the middle of the chaos and said, "Percocet. Prescription was for forty. Prescribed to Harold O’Malley."

Bailey nodded and began the insertion of the tubes into Callie’s nose. Callie choked then and it took Mark, Alex, and Addison to hold her down. The vomiting began almost instantly and they rolled her onto her side, watching as she retched and heaved. Then, before anyone could stop her, she pulled the tube out and her nose, which was still swollen and bruised, and blood began to pour from it and her mouth. Alex stared at the monitors as they began to beep and said, "Oxygen level is at eighty five."

"Damn it. There’s too much blood in the airway." Bailey snapped. "Yang, we’ll need a breathing tube before we try to lavage again."

Cristina was on it. She tilted Callie’s head back, inserted the breathing tube on the first try and began to pump the bag, watching as Callie’s levels rose into the nineties. "Clear."

"Let’s do this again." Bailey opened the second kit, which Addison had grabbed from the hallway and covered the hosing in lubricant. "Hold her down this time, people. Hold her down! On three now. One, two, three."

Callie didn’t gag this time.

She didn’t respond at all.

"Grey, rush the fluid." Mark said, taking the stethoscope from Meredith’s neck. "Get an EKG in here. Stat," he barked at Izzie, who had returned.

"Addison, get on the phone with the lab," Bailey said, leaning down to examine the bile that Callie had vomited onto the floor. "I don’t see anything solid. Yang, how’s the suction."

"Second collection. First was liquid, no solid."

Bailey stood and shook Callie, leaning close to her. "Callie! Did you take any medication?" She spoke again and again, but Callie didn’t move. Checking her blood pressure, Miranda swore under her breath. "Where is that EKG, people!?"

"Her blood alcohol is point thirty-three," Addison said, hanging up the phone. "So far they haven’t found anything else."

"Point thirty-three? What in the world-" Bailey began.

"Callie?!" George shouted from the hallway.

"Keep him out of here." Bailey looked at Alex, but it was Addison who intercepted him.

"George, I need you to stay here with me," she said, her hand on his chest.

"No. NO! What happened?"

"Listen to me," Addison snapped, holding up the empty bottle. "What do you know about this?"

He took the bottle and read the label. "It - it was my dad’s. It was in a box of his stuff that I brought home after - after he died."

"Was it empty?"

"What?"

"The bottle, George. Were there any pills in the bottle?"

"I don’t know. I-" George’s eyes widened as comprehension dawned on him. "What did she do? What did she do?! Dr. Montgomery?!"

"Right now we know that she has alcohol poisoning. We’re waiting on the toxicology. This bottle was with her in the car."

"In the car?"

"Yeah. In the car. In the car that was running in the parking garage of the Archfield." Alex, who had lingered in the doorway to hear what George had to say about the medication, glared at the other man. "What the hell did you do to her now?"

"Shut up, Alex. And go call the lab again!" Addison pushed George out of the way as the EKG machine was rolled past them.

George leaned back against the wall, his hand over his mouth. "How bad is it?" he finally asked.

"Her B.A.C. is point thirty-three."

"No. No. That can’t be right. That - that can be fatal. Addison, that can be fatal." He shook his head emphatically as if his own denial could make it untrue. "Are they-"

"They’re doing everything they can. You know they are."

"Who’s working on her?"

"Sloan and Bailey."

"Is she breathing on her own?"

Addison shook her head, then caught him as he tried to rush past her. "You can’t do anything."

Meredith joined them in the hallway and said, "Dr. Montgomery, you can go back inside. I’ll stay with him."

Grateful, Addison nodded and squeezed George’s hand before hurrying back into the room. Meredith leaned against the wall next to George and leaned her head against his shoulder. "She’s strong. She’s strong and she’ll come back."

"You don’t know that."

"I’ve been there, George. She’ll come back."

"They’re breathing for her."

"Only because she pulled the tube out and compromised her airway."

George looked at her. "She’s awake. So she’s responding?"

"It - it was instinct. To pull it out. She’s unconscious."

"But - what about her heart and was she - didn’t she -"

Meredith took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Should you call someone? Do you think you should call her parents?"

Callie had told him enough about her mother and father to force him to shake his head. She would be mortified if, no ... when she woke up and found them there. He needed to call someone, though. He needed to hear someone who would not judge him, not be angry at him. Taking his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans, he called home.

Louise answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Georgie?"

"Mom," he began to cry and sank down the wall, his back against it. "Callie’s in the hospital. Can you - can you come?"

"I’m on my way."

Meredith kneeled beside him and put her arms around him.

When Derek walked past them a few minutes later and went into Callie’s room, neither had to wonder why.

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 6
"How long was she without oxygen?" Derek asked, checking the EKG readout.

"Seconds," Addison said. "She only stopped breathing for a second. She was choking and Mark ... he did the Heimlich."

Derek glanced from Addison to Mark, but said nothing to the other man. Instead, he turned to Bailey and watched as she lifted the fourth container that had been taken from Callie’s stomach. "Is she clear yet?"

"No."

"There’s no sign of narcotics. I checked with the lab." Derek confirmed and leaned down, doing a sternum rub on Callie’s chest. She made no move to push him away. "How long has she been unconscious?"

"She’s been in and out of it since we found her," Alex said, stepping up beside the bed. Without even realizing it, he had taken Callie’s limp hand in his. "What about the fumes? From the car?"

"It’s a big garage," Mark pointed out. "And it’s well ventilated."

"Fumes? Why am I just now hearing about fumes? Was this a case of too much to drink or a suicide attempt?" Bailey stared from Alex to Addison. "Well? Which is it?"

Alex looked down at Callie. There was blood still trickling from her nose and he reached down, wiping it away with his thumb. "It was just an accident," he finally said, even though his conversation with her replayed in his head. "That’s all. Just a stupid mistake."
"After she’s clear go ahead and use the charcoal." Derek took the chart from Izzie and glanced through it. "She’ll need an MRI. That much alcohol-"

"Don’t say it. Don’t even think it," Addison snapped. "There is nothing wrong with her brain. She -"

"She’s one of us. We’re going to run every test that we have," Derek replied, scribbling a couple of notes before he shut the chart. "Draw some more blood and see where we’re at with the alcohol and check her ALT and AZT, we need to keep an eye on her liver. Page me when the results are in."

Izzie moved around the bed, pulling on a pair of gloves and grabbing an empty vial. Alex, who was still holding Callie’s hand, snatched the vial from Izzie and said, "I’ll do it myself."

"Karev," Dr. Bailey warned. "You are not on duty. You are a visitor."

"She’s not touching her." Alex filled the vial and handed it off to Izzie, glaring at her. "You must be so happy. You’re living the dream. You get to reap what you sowed first hand. You get to watch her fall."

"Shut up, Alex," Izzie growled.

"I do have to give you a little credit, Iz," he replied. "I’m surprised you’re not cutting *her* wires and tubes just to make sure she’s completely out of the picture. There’s one lesson that apparently stuck."

"Okay, that’s enough!" Bailey pointed at the door. "Stevens, get that to the lab right now. Karev, go wait outside."

Cristina, who had collected the fifth container, said, "She’s clear."

"Start the charcoal," Bailey told her. "I’ll go talk to O’Malley."

George had been coaxed into an empty seat behind the nurse’s station. He sat with his head resting in his palms and when Miranda touched his shoulder, he jumped to his feet. "How is she?"

Miranda explained as best and as gently as she could and then said, "George, do you think she did this intentionally?"

"We had a fight. I - I shouldn’t have let her go. She was upset and - and did she take those pills, Dr. Bailey? Did she?"

"No. She didn’t."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "We checked her stomach contents and Derek confirmed it with toxicology."

"So it’s just alcohol?"

"I wouldn’t say *just*, George. It was a lot of alcohol and apparently no food at all, but her heart looks good and she’s getting plenty of oxygen. We’re going to take her down for an MRI and then we just have to wait."

"Can I see her?"

"Yes." Bailey stopped him as he moved away, her hand resting on his arm. "She looks bad. Be prepared for that."

George swallowed hard, his eyes on hers. He nodded his head slightly, then walked across the hallway and entered Callie’s room. He was vaguely aware that Addison and Mark left the room and glanced only briefly at Cristina as she continued to administer the charcoal. The steady beeping of Callie’s heart should have reassured him, but the blood on her face and the color of her skin was more than he could handle. Tears blurred his vision as he let the rail down and sat next to her. He brushed her bangs aside and leaned forward, kissing her forehead softly, breathing her in. His cheek lingered next to hers and he whispered, "Come back to me. You have to come back. Please don’t go. Don’t do this."

His pleads remained soft for a few moments, then he laid his head against her chest and began to cry in earnest. And his prayers were loud enough that most of the ER staff heard them.

*~*~*~*~*~

Doctors are required to have a certain level of desensitization. They’re forced to deliver bad news with a professional and courteous attitude and they can’t become emotionally involved. Ever. As Addison stood in the hallway listening to George, she felt her own resolve break and mumbled something to Mark about getting coffee. The look she gave him implored him not to question and when he nodded his understanding, she walked slowly down the corridor.

She headed out into the fresh air and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. When she blew her nose a moment later and turned to throw the tissue in the trash, she saw Alex sitting a few feet away. She joined him on the bench and said, "When you called me you said you thought Callie was trying to kill herself in the basement of the Archfield."

"Yeah."

"So, why did you tell Miranda that she wasn’t?"
"I was scared when I called you," he replied.

"That doesn’t change what she did."

"She told me where she was, Addison. If she wanted to die she would have hung up the phone."

Addy chewed her bottom lip, then nodded. "I guess that’s one way to look at it."

"That’s the only way I *will* look at it," he said. "It wouldn’t make sense otherwise. She was fine. She was doing so much better."

"It’s my fault, I think. We had a fight. Last night. It was bad. It was really bad." Addison sighed. "It was about you."

"Me?"

"You and her."

"What?"

"I think it’s wrong for the two of you to do what you’re doing. Whatever it is."

"You don’t know what we’re doing, but you feel qualified to tell us it’s wrong?"

"What *are* you doing?

"We’re friends."

"Are you, Alex? You’ll have to forgive me if I feel the need to remind you that you never even talked to her until your ex-girlfriend slept with her husband. I could be wrong, but it seems pretty evident to me that you’re trying to hurt Izzie Stevens. If that’s the case then you’re using Callie and I don’t like that one bit."

"I like Callie. I like hanging out with her and if I get the added bonus of driving Izzie insane by doing it then you’ll have to forgive *me* for not really caring."

"Stevens left you for Denny. That’s what I heard."

He nodded.

"You were in love with her."

He nodded again.

"You still are."

He shook his head. "No. I’m in love with who she used to be. I’m in love with the optimist, the pretty girl who gets in your face, tells it like it is, and demands that you respect her for her brain. The goofy girl who laughs at funerals and cries at weddings. That person died with Denny. I don’t know who she is anymore."

"So, what are you doing with Callie?"

"Making her feel better."

Addison studied his profile. "Why?"

"Because I can." Alex finally looked at her. "I’m not going to do anything to her, Addison, if that’s what you’re worried about."

"She still loves George, you know."

"Why do you think I made sure Meredith called him?" He shrugged. "It wasn’t because I wanted the guy around."

"Just be careful, Alex. Okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"A woman who has had her heart broken is usually very easy to take advantage of and most of the time they welcome the relief. Don’t let her think that you feel anything for her if you don’t."

"It’s not like that."

"Really?" Addison arched an eyebrow. "Do you usually come rushing up on the white horse to save the damsel the way you did tonight?"

"This particular damsel is a special case," Alex replied. "She knows my secrets."

"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Finding someone that you can talk to about anything is rare. I trust her."

"So, that’s it then? She’s a confidante?"

"Why are you pushing this?"

"You kissed me."

Alex’s eyes widened. "No, you kissed me and I thought I made it very clear that I wasn’t interested. I hate following the crowd and Yang and Gray already have the whole intern and attending thing down."

"Yeah, but-"

"And correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Mark Sloan answer your cell phone when I called?"

When Addison looked away, Alex smirked a little and stood up. He looked down at her and said, "If I was a betting man I’d say that having your cake and eating it too isn’t all it’s cracked up to be."

"You’d probably win that bet."

"I’m going back in. You coming?"

"In a minute," Addison replied, watching as he walked away. She leaned forward after a minute, buried her face in her hands and said, "God, this sucks."

"Private conversation? Or can anyone join?" Derek sat down next to her. "How are you holding up?"

"By a string," she admitted. Her chin trembled at the confession and she exhaled slowly. "It’s bad, isn’t it? Worse than-"

"No." Derek shook his head. "It’s not the worst I’ve seen and it’s certainly not going to kill her."

"There’s always a but."

"But you know that the liver and the brain, all of it, could be affected," Derek watched her for a second. "When did you become such good friends with Torres anyway?"

"After she slept with Mark. We bonded over the horror of it all. It’s funny, you know, I should have been angry or hurtful to her, but I couldn’t be. I needed a friend and there she was."

"And if you hated every woman that Mark has slept with that wouldn’t leave many females for you to bond with."

"That’s very true." She smiled a little, then looked at her ex-husband. "Do you think it’s possible for a man to change? A man like Mark?"

Derek considered the question thoughtfully. When he finally spoke, it was with sincerity. "I have known Mark my entire life. You’ve heard about his past, but I lived it with him. I remember him climbing in my bedroom window because the yelling was so bad at his place. Hell, we could hear it. You know, his father was sick and his mother constantly had men coming and going."

"You told me."

"You would have to see it to understand exactly how horrible it really was. You asked me if I thought it was possible for him to change and the answer is yes, but that’s not really the question you should ask."

"What should I ask?"

"Are you the one who *can* change him?" Derek shrugged. "Do you want to?"

"I want to believe that my marriage didn’t fall apart for nothing. I want to believe in something. I want to want him without being afraid of what it will do to me if I have to worry where he is every second. I want to trust him. I mean, I need to trust him again. And I really can’t yet." Her expression changed suddenly. "And that is exactly how Callie feels about George and I am the biggest ass on the planet."

Derek laughed now. He genuinely laughed and Addison found that she couldn’t help but join him. "Life is cruel and disturbing," she finally said.

"Yes," he replied. His pager went off and he stood. "Labs are in. Let’s go check on your friend."

*~*~*~*~*~

Izzie saw Louise first and her stomach dropped a little. She felt like someone who was being sent to the principal’s office. George was undoubtedly going to tell his mother what had happened and Louise, well, Izzie didn’t want to think about that. She tried to duck into a linen closet, but the older woman spotted her and hurried forward. "Dr. Stevens! Oh, thank heavens! Have you seen Callie? I can’t find George and-"

"He’s in one of the family rooms. I - I’ll show you."

"What happened to Callie? He - he said that she’s sick, but no one wants to tell me anything."

"Uh, George needs to explain it, Mrs. O’Malley, I can’t really give you any information."

"But, I’m family. Dr. Stevens, she’s my daughter in law and we talk all the time."

"I understand, but-"

Cristina and Meredith came around the corner pushing the gurney that Callie was lying on. Louise drew up short and gasped, instinctively reaching out and stopping them. "Oh my god, Callie? Honey?"

"Mrs. O’Malley, you need to come with me." Izzie put her hand on the older woman’s shoulder.

"What’s happened to her? Was it a car wreck? There’s blood. And why is that tube in her mouth? Harold - Harold’s esophagus was-"

"Mom?" George rushed forward and put an arm around his mother. He didn’t let his gaze linger long on Callie’s face because to do so would have finished him off, he was certain of that. "They’re bringing her back from an MRI. We just - we have to wait for Dr. Shepherd to tell us what they find."

"Oh, Georgie, did you call Melana?"

"Who?"

"Her mother, son. Her mother needs to be here. Oh, she’ll be devastated. We’ve been planning the party together and she’s so excited to meet you and see Callie and-"

"You’ve been talking to Callie’s mom?"

"Oh, every day. She’s a wonderful lady and Callie’s her baby, her only little girl."

"Mom-"

"We have to call her."

"We will."

Izzie watched as Louise leaned over the stretcher and gave Callie a kiss on the cheek, then let George lead her away. She glanced at Cristina, who was staring at her. "What?"

"Was that as awkward for you as it looked?" she asked. "You know he’s gonna tell her, right?"

"Let’s just go," Meredith said, pulling on the gurney. "Izzie, can you let Derek know that the MRI is done?"

"Whatever." Izzie stood in the hallway a moment longer, watching as Callie disappeared back into her room.

*~*~

"What happened to her, Georgie?" Louise had taken a seat and watched as George paced the length of the room. "Sit down, son. You’re going to need your rest."

"It’s my fault. She did this because of me."

"Did what? Georgie, you’re scaring me."

George flopped into the seat beside her and leaned his head back against the wall. "I’ve ruined everything."

"What do you mean?"

"She said she’s divorcing me and-"

"What?! Honey, you two just got married and it’s new and -"

"I slept with Izzie," he cut her off. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, couldn’t bare to see the look of shame that was undoubtedly on her face. When she didn’t reply, he said, "I was drunk and she was drunk and it just happened. Callie and I had been fighting and I left and - God, I should have stayed, Mom. I should’ve stayed and worked through it, but I didn’t and now - now she’s - Callie’s miserable and she could die."

The minutes dragged past. Louise said nothing and the silence was deafening. George finally cleared his throat and said, "This is the part where you tell me that you raised me better than that and I’m a huge disappointment and -"

"What happened to her, George? What happened to Callie?"

"She’s got alcohol poisoning. Enough to kill her. Enough to damage her brain. Enough to - enough to leave me and I can’t stop her this time. I can’t chase after her like I always do and even if I could ... I’ve given her nothing to come back for."

"Alcohol poisoning," Louise repeated. "But Jerry had that after a few beers and he-"

"They think it was intentional." George finally looked at his mother and the hurt on her face caused him to crack. "And so do I. What I did to her - Mom, I’ve already killed her she was just taking care of the rest."

Louise watched her son fall apart and finally put her arms around him, holding him close. They cried together and were still hanging onto one another when Ronnie and Jerry arrived. Louise didn’t tell them much and when George shot her a look of gratitude, she winked at him and gave him a little smile. It had the effect she hoped it would. He calmed down and sat next to her again. She patted him on the arm and excused herself.

In the women’s bathroom, she made one of the hardest phone calls of her life. She could tell that she had woken the other woman and had not even given the time difference a second thought. "Melana? This is Louise?"

"Oh! Goodness, hello!" Melana replied sleepily. "I hope you are well."

"I’m fine." Louise took a deep breath and said, "I’m sorry to call you like this, but well, I’d want to know if it were me."

"Know what?"

"Callie’s been admitted to the hospital. She’s very ill. You may want to come."

"Κύριε έλέησον!" Malana exclaimed in Greek. "Raphael! Raphael, wake up! Something has happened to Calliope."

A moment later, Raphael Torres was on the phone and Louise, who had not spoken with him much at all, found herself practically shaking at the third degree he issued. He gave her his cell phone number, took hers, and informed her that they would arrive within seven hours. She didn’t have to wonder how he could make that happen. The air of authority with which he spoke would likely have caused God himself to blanch at the idea of not being able to catch a flight out. He thanked her, wished her well, and ended the call. Louise closed her phone and rejoined her sons.

The minutes stretched into an hour, then two. During the fourth hour, Dr. Bailey came out and assured them that they were not forgotten, but they were still running tests and had no additional information. Jerry eventually dozed in the corner and Ronnie went in search of food. He came back with sodas and cakes and handed them out. The rustling of Louise’s bag eventually woke Jerry up and he kicked Ronnie for not bringing him anything. "You were asleep, dude," Ronnie said. "And with your stomach? You better not eat or drink anything unless you’re waiting in the car."

Jerry responded by taking the food out of Ronnie’s hand and slapping him on the back of the head. "The only thing wrong with my stomach is that you’re around."

"Boys!" Louise scolded. "Stop it!"

Twenty minutes later, Derek walked in and George jumped to his feet. "Dr. Shepherd?"

"Have a seat, George." Derek introduced himself to the rest of the O’Malley family and sat opposite George. "I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to speak with you. Unfortunately something like this is a waiting game and we’ve been monitoring everything very closely. The good news is that she’s is responding well to treatment. Her heart’s strong and her B.A.C. has dropped to point zero seven. That’s better than I had hoped for at this point and I think we owe that to Mark and Addison. They forced her to vomit, which purged her system of some of the toxins. The bad news, George, is that the level of alcohol that we pulled out of her system would have been fatal if it had gone untreated. She ingested enough to kill someone double her size and that’s a problem. We have a problem. It’s very important that you tell me the truth. Is she binge drinker?"

"No." George shook his head. "No, she’s never had more than a couple of drinks with me. Occasionally at dinner she has wine or a mixed drink, but she’s never even gotten tipsy."

"Just as a precaution I’m going to have Psych take a look at her."

George had expected it. "Okay. What - how about her breathing? Is she breathing on her own?"

"Well, we’re going to check and see. We can’t take her off the respirator unless you give us permission to do so. Dr. Bailey put the tube in as a precaution because with Callie slipping in and out like she was she could have stopped breathing at any time. We’re going to take her off the machine when and if that’s okay with you, you’re welcome to be with her, and see how her oxygen levels stand. If she can maintain into the nineties on her own then we’ll take the tube out." Derek stood. "We won’t know until she wakes up if there are any other issues."

"Do you have to do this right now?" Louise asked Derek.

He shook his head. "No. It’s a big decision and not one that should be taken lightly. Feel free to discuss it and then let me know what you decide."

"Her parents should be here soon. They’re one the way." Louise looked at George and said, "You should wait for them. Just in case."

"You called them?" George asked her. When she nodded, George swallowed hard and looked back at Derek. "Has she regained consciousness at all?"

"She’s coming around. A few minutes ago she pushed my hand away when I did a sternum rub and that’s a good sign. She’s also fidgeting and -"

"I don’t want her to wake up with the tube, Dr. Shepherd. That’ll scare her and I don’t want her scared."

Derek glanced at Louise, then back at George. "She could wake up any time."

"Then take her off. Do it now. Do it before she wakes up and realizes that she might not be able to breathe." George slowly got to his feet and turned to his mother. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Of course."

George walked into the hallway and waited for her to follow. Ronnie and Jerry were both abnormally quiet and he wanted to thank them, to tell them that it was a nice change, to make a joke. Anything to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t. He said nothing, even as Ronnie clapped him on the shoulder and said that they’d be waiting for him. As his mother emerged and he took her hand in his, it crossed his mind to invite his brothers into Callie’s room, but he just couldn’t. If she - no. He couldn’t.

Addison and Alex were standing on one side of Callie’s bed. Addison was holding her friend’s hand and she smiled a little when George and Louise walked in. "I think she’s trying to wake up," she told George. "She keeps lifting her hands."

George hurried across the room and looked down at her. "Callie?"

Derek moved behind George and flipped a switch, effectively cutting off the support of air and then stepped back into the shadows to wait. George looked at the monitor, his eyes never wavering from the oxygen level that was currently at ninety-nine. The seconds ticked past and the number dropped four points, then five.

"Derek?" Addison commented as the number dropped into the eighties.

"Wait for it," Derek replied.

A pin could have dropped and startled the entire room. Nobody moved, no one seemed to breathe, least of all Callie. The number plummeted further still and Derek glanced at his watch. "Thirty more seconds and we’ll turn it back on."

"Please, Callie. Breathe, baby." George, who had taken her hand in his, squeezed it. "Come on! You can do this!"

"Fifteen seconds," Derek said.

"SHIT!" Addison cursed so suddenly and with such force that everyone jumped. "Callie? Callie! YOU BETTER BREATHE, GOD DAMMIT!" Addison shook her, hard, gripping both of her shoulders now, practically climbing on top of her. "BREATHE! I WILL KICK YOUR ASS IF YOU DON’T BREATHE! DO YOU HEAR ME? IF YOU DIE I WILL KILL YOU! AND MAKE IT HURT! YOU WILL PAY!"

Alex grabbed Addison around the waist and pulled her back. And Callie took such a deep breath that it seemed to suck the air out of everyone else. Her eyelids fluttered open and she reached her free hand up, feeling the tube in her mouth. Addison grabbed her hand and said, "Leave it alone."

"Oxygen’s at eighty-eight." Alex put a hand on Callie’s leg and said, "You can do better than that, Torres. What the hell?"

The machine eventually stopped beeping as Callie’s number slowly climbed out of the danger zone. George was crying and he wiped his face and leaned down beside her. "Good job," he whispered, kissing her temple.

She groaned then and pushed at him. George moved back a little and she held a hand up shaking her head no.

It was very clear that she didn’t want him near her.

*~*~* ~*~*~
CH 7
Addison cleared her throat and tried her best to make the awkward situation bearable for George, whose face had fallen when Callie pushed him away. She watched as his mother put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but George didn’t step forward again. "Hey," she finally said, rubbing Callie’s arm. "Want us to take that tube out?"

Derek looked from George to Addison and moved a little closer. "It could be premature. We should monitor her for a little while longer. She was slow to respond."

Callie shook her head and pointed at the tube again. When Derek opened his mouth to speak, she grabbed his jacket and pulled him a little closer. Her word, though muffled, was unmistakable. "Now."

"No. No no no. Don’t try to talk," Addison told her and reached up, smoothing a strand of her friend’s hair back. Callie pushed her hand away and shook her head, reaching for the tube again.

"I’ll put the restraints on. Don’t make me," Derek said, stopping her. "I’m going to ask you a number question and I want you to show me with your fingers what the answer is. Okay?"

Callie rolled her eyes and nodded.

"What’s five minus four?"

Callie flipped him a bird.

"She’s fine," Alex said, laughing a little.

Callie nodded, put a finger on her nose, and pointed at Alex, who beamed at her and said, "I rock at Charades."

Derek looked at George again and said, "O’Malley, it's your call."

George’s gaze was still on Callie. She had not met his eyes once and it was killing him. He glanced at the monitor and saw that her oxygen was in the nineties and nodded. "Take it out."

"You may want to wait outside," Derek told Louise, who nodded and headed into the hallway.

It only took seconds to remove the tube, but it was still hard to watch. Callie was restrained by George and Alex and gagged and coughed as Derek pulled it free. He sat her up instantly, handing her a basin as she gripped it, spitting out the blood that collected in her mouth. Addison rubbed her back and said, "How do you feel?"

"Where’s my chart?" Callie rasped after a couple of seconds, barely audible. Her words were slow, drowsy sounding.

Alex handed her a tissue and said, "You probably shouldn’t be talking yet and -"

"Get it," she interrupted, taking the tissue and blotting her mouth.

Alex looked at Derek, who nodded, then retrieved the chart from the door. He held it out and watched as she opened it and flipped a few pages. "It’s not here," she finally croaked.

"What’s not there?" Derek asked her.

"DNR. I’m DNR." Callie closed the chart and stared at Shepherd, her eyes bloodshot and bleary. "A freakin’ breathing tube. What were you thinking? You’re not supposed to save me!"

"Cal, don’t." George reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. "You don’t mean that."

"Get out," she growled. More blood bubbled from her throat and she spit again. "Get out now, George."

"But!"

"GO!" she shouted and promptly burst into tears as she grabbed her throat.

"Yeah, that hurt like a bitch didn’t it?" Derek asked her. He cupped her chin and said, "Open. Let me see."

"I’m fine," she sobbed and grimaced when she tasted more blood in her mouth. "Get him away from me."

"George, man," Alex said. "Maybe you should do what she wants."

"No." George shook his head. "She is-" He stopped in mid-sentence and grabbed Callie’s face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "You are my wife. You are my wife and I love you and I’m not leaving this room. Do you hear me? Do you understand?"

She closed her eyes, tears falling faster now. "Let me go. George, let me go."

"I can’t! Don’t you see that? I can’t! I’ve never been able to let you go. Never!"

"Don’t."

Wordlessly, George pulled her against him and held onto her. He held on even though she struggled. He held on with both arms and refused to surrender. Whether it was sheer exhaustion that eventually stilled her protests or the fact that he was crying into the crook of her neck was unclear, but finally he felt her arms around him and no matter what else happened in that moment ... it was all that mattered.

They were still hanging onto each other, still crying, when Alex walked out of the room. He stalked down the hallway and into the intern’s locker room. Izzie’s shift would be ending soon and sure enough, she stood before her locker staring into it, but not moving.

"Where is it?" he asked her.

Izzie jumped a little, startled from her reverie, and looked at him. "What?"

"You took care of her chart. Where is it?"

She swallowed hard and shook her head. "I don’t know what you mean."

Alex crossed the room at once and pinned her back against the locker. He caught both of her hands in his and held them over her head and with his free hand, he patted her pockets. The paper rustled in the back pocket of her scrub pants and he pulled it out and opened it. He knew instinctively what it was, but he had to see it for himself. Callie’s signature was on the ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ paperwork that had been scanned into the computer five years before. It was part of the paperwork that every intern had to fill out, they had to make their wishes known. He looked up from the paper, wide eyed.

Izzie wrapped her arms around herself and stared at him. "Go ahead. Go turn me in."

"Why did you do this?"

"It was in her chart." The defiant look faded from her face and she blurted out, "I’ve been trying to make her go away for months and then she was really about to and ... I had to give her back to George. Okay? I had to give her back."

"Isobel Maria Stevens!" He grinned at her and ripped the paper down the middle. Her eyes widened and he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her into the air. "You are the most amazing human being alive."

He set her back on her feet and without thinking, kissed her. It was brief, almost chaste, and then he pulled away and gave her back the torn paper. "Shred it."

"What - you’re not going to tell?"

"Tell what? I didn’t see a thing."

"But-" She watched, dumbstruck as Alex headed for the door. "What-"

He held up a hand to stop her from continuing. "Welcome back, Iz. I missed the hell out of you."

*~*~*~*~*~

Callie pulled away from George and dried her eyes. She noticed that they were alone and wondered how much time had passed, wondered where Addison had gone. Finally, she met George’s gaze and her heart ached in ways that she hadn’t imagined possible. His eyes were bloodshot, swollen. His face was pale and wet with his tears and she reached up, rubbing her thumb across his cheek. He caught her hand and kissed it.

"Why?" he finally asked her. "Why did you do this?"

"George-"

"WHY?" he shouted, then hugged her again when she flinched. "I don’t - dammit, I don’t mean to yell at you. I just need to know if you did this on purpose."

She waited until he let her go, then shook her head, her eyes downcast.

"Callie, you almost died. It takes a lot of alcohol to kill someone and you were in a garage with the car running."

"No," she said, the pain in her throat making her grimace. "It just ... it was just .. I miscalculated."

"How?"

"I don’t know, but I did."

"Baby, please tell me the truth."

"Because you know what that is?"

"This isn’t about me right now."

"It never is." She shook her head. "Think what you want. I - I didn’t do anything."

George rubbed his eyes before looking at her. When he did, he said, "I don’t believe you. I’m sorry, but I don’t."

"It was an accident."

"How? You accidentally thought it was water?"

"I didn’t mean to. I just - I wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling. I didn’t think it would - I drank more than this when I went to North Carolina." She choked a little and swallowed again. "God, I’m never putting a tube in anyone again. Ever."

"Is that where you went? When you left me?"

She nodded and cleared her aching throat. George handed her the bottle of water that had been his and watched as she took a few sips. He waited for her to go on. Finally, she said, "It was me and a cabin and Jack Daniels. And I didn’t have to think about what you did for fifteen days. I just - I wanted to not remember for a while. Today - today was bad."

"Yesterday," George reminded her. "You were gone for a while, Callie," he reached out, taking her hand. "What happened yesterday? Was it me? Was it because we fought?"

"It was part of it." Callie bit her lip as she watched his eyes brim with fresh tears. "I talked to my brother. He - he told me about the party and said that Daddy talked to you. And I told him what you did to me and he still said we should have the party anyway and I just didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to do it and I wanted to sleep and not think or hurt or feel. I just wanted to sleep for a while, George. That’s all." Her throat ached too much to go on.

George wanted to reply, but his mother knocked and stuck her head in. "Hi," she said, smiling brightly.

Callie looked at George, clearly agitated. "Louise," she croaked, her voice practically gone. "You didn’t have to come."

"Well, that’s nonsense if I’ve ever heard nonsense." Louise closed the door behind her and walked to the bed. From behind her back she pulled a stuffed bear that said ‘Get Well’ and held it out to Callie. "I couldn’t watch them take out the tube and I couldn’t stand to eavesdrop so I went shopping."

Callie took the bear, muttered her thanks, and then Louise engulfed her in a tight embrace, pushing George out of the way. He took a step back and watched as his mother fussed over Callie, making her lie down, insisting that he get a wet cloth to clean her face. Any protest Callie attempted was quickly shot down and within minutes, Callie was tucked into the bed and Louise was gently dabbing the dried blood away.

"Go get her some fresh water, George. With ice. Lots of ice. That’ll help the sore throat." She practically shoved him out of the room and turned back to Callie, who was now watching her with a wary expression on her face. Louise went back to the bed and took a deep breath. "Are you sober?"

"I’m thinking ‘unfortunately’ is probably the best word to answer that."

"He told me what happened with Dr. Stevens."

Callie pursed her lips together and looked away. Louise continued, undaunted, "And you’ve made him pay. You broke him last night. You destroyed him. You’re even. I know this hurts like hell, honey, I’ve been there, but-"

Stunned, Callie looked up at her. "What?"

"Harold was a good man, a decent man, and I loved him very much. But we got married young and I think he resented me in the beginning. He still wanted to go and drink with his friends and I didn’t know how to stop it so I stayed home and tried to be a good wife. Then he told me that he had been unfaithful and I was devastated. I was pregnant with George at the time and I left. I went home to my mother and I cried so much that it hurt all over. So I know. I know.

"Harold finally broke, Callie, the way that George did last night. And I never once regretted our life together after that."

"She’s in love with him."

"Dr. Stevens assured me months ago that she didn’t have any feelings whatsoever for George. She was very convincing," Louise dismissed. "And she was drunk. They both were."

"That doesn’t make any difference."

"Really?" Louise raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that you were in complete control of yourself last night when you almost killed yourself with alcohol? I bet that you didn’t know what you were doing after a while. You don’t even remember most of it. Do you?"

Callie shook her head and she knew that doing so was conceding defeat.

Louise softened a little and took her hand. "I’m not making excuses for him. What he did was wrong and he knows that. He’s horrified that it happened and he loves you. He really loves you. He’s feeling worse than you, I’d wager."

"I don’t care how he feels."

"You really aren’t a good actress." Louise sat down on the bed, still holding Callie’s hand. "I’ve been talking to your mother a lot."

"Oh my god."

"She’s a character."

"She’s crazy."


"She told me that you clearly love my son enough to risk dying for him because you knew that she would kill you for eloping. Now *she* is a good actress. I almost drove to your place just to make sure you were still alive and well." When Callie didn’t smile, Louise said, "Honey, look at me."

Callie exhaled and finally met her eyes again. "Please tell me that you didn’t call my mother and tell her what happened."

"Your parents are on their way. I told them just enough to get them here. It’s up to you to decide what to say to them once they arrive."

"It’s not gonna work! Whatever you think you’re doing with my mom. You can’t fix this, Louise."

"I know my son. I won’t have to fix it. He will."

George came into the room cautiously, carrying a pitcher of water and ice chips. He looked from one to the other and when neither spoke, he filled a Styrofoam cup full of water, put a straw in it, and held it out to Callie. When she took it, her hands were shaking, and he frowned and covered them with his own. "Are you cold?" he asked, as she took a couple of small sips.

When Callie nodded, Louise said, "I’ll go round up a blanket."

"I’m sorry," he said, when his mother was out of earshot. "I needed her here. I was going crazy and I called her. Whatever she said to you --- I’m sorry."

"Fight your own battles, George." She lost her own battle with tears and it made her throat ache even worse. "That was really low."

"I didn’t tell her to say anything. Give me just a little bit of credit and -"

"The last time I gave you credit you cheated on me. Remember? You said ‘Can’t you give me a little credit that maybe I’m on your side’ and then-"

"And then you threw me out! And I was pissed off! You threw me for the loop with the money thing and you crawled my ass for being thrown."

Her next words were muffled with a sob. "You called me *curvy*."

"You *are* curvy. The first night we slept together, in the freakin’ basement, I told you that you should wear a warning sign that said ‘dangerous curves ahead’. Your body is mind-blowing. I -"

"Shut up."

"We made up after that fight. It’s done. It’s over. Let it go! You apologized to me and I apologized to you and-"

"You left out the part where you slept with her!"

George dug his fingers into her thighs to keep from shaking her. "I made a mistake. I made a horrible, awful mistake. When have I paid enough? When? What do I have to do? Do you want to move away from here? Do you - do you want to start fresh somewhere else? I’ll go. I’ll never speak to her again. What else do you want from me?"

"You can’t undo it. That’s what I want from you and you can’t undo it!"

"But I can prove to you that I love you and I will."

Saying nothing, she rolled away from him and pulled the cover up over her shoulder. Louise could bring a thousand blankets and never chase the chill away. Callie was frozen, inside and out, and as she closed her eyes she wanted nothing more than the world to end. And take her with it.

But on the plus side, her mother would probably make sure it did.

*~*~*~*~*~

Raphael and Melana Torres arrived via helicopter, landing atop Seattle Grace with all the pomp and circumstance of royalty. The pilot had called ahead and George, who had left Callie sleeping in her room, trudged to the roof to collect them with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had not slept, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t showered or changed his clothes, but he really wasn’t concerned about first impressions at the moment. He also didn’t know if Callie’s brother had told what he had done. As soon as he opened the door to the rooftop, the helicopter was leaving and he stared, wide eyed, as Mr. Torres escorted his wife across the helipad.

Melana Torres was an older version of Callie. Her body was shaped like an hourglass and she wore a clinging black dress that accentuated her waist and hips. The dress scooped at the neck, displaying a cascading necklace of diamonds that disappeared into her ample cleavage. She was tall, taller than her husband, and as she approached, George realized that the extremely high heels she wore were the likely cause. As the woman drew nearer, George could see that her hair, jet black and curly, was slightly shorter than Callie’s, but styled similarly. She was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking.

And she clearly knew it.

A few feet from George, she lowered her round, dark sunglasses and adjusted the insanely large Louis Vuitton bag over her shoulder. George stood a little straighter as she appraised him and held out his hand to Callie’s father "Hello, Mr. Torres," he said, then turned to Callie’s mother. "It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Torres. You look so much like Callie."

"How is my daughter?" Melana took his hand in hers and firmly clasped it. "Your mother was rather vague."

"She’s okay. She’s sleeping now." George indicated the bag on her arm. "Would you like me to carry your bag?"

"No, he wouldn’t like that," she replied. "Strangers can be unsettling."

George balked a little. "Excuse me?"

"Could you please explain to us exactly what happened?" Melana indicated the door behind George. "And could you please escort us into the building? This wind is unbearable and Gucci hates to travel."

"Uh, okay. Sorry." George opened the door and waited for them to enter. He watched as Melana took off her sunglasses and stowed them in a case, which she dropped into the side of the large bag. Mr. Torres cleared his throat and George said, "Do you want to see her now? I mean - I’m sure you do. That was a stupid question. It’s just - long night. You know?"

"Let me see your eyes." Melana beckoned him forward and pressed his cheeks with her palms. She stared at him for a long span, then nodded. "Kind eyes. He’s not at all the vulture you described, Raph. He’ll do."

"Melana," Raphael warned, then turned to George. "I demand to know what happened. Your mother indicated that she had food poisoning?" Raphael tilted his head a little. "I assume it was something you cooked."

"No. No, sir, I mean. It wasn’t food poisoning. My mother was probably trying not to scare you." He glanced back and forth between them both. "Callie, uh, she drank a little ... too much and, uh, had an adverse reaction to it. They pumped her stomach and - well, we’re still waiting to make sure that her liver enzymes stabilize and that her body is strong enough to, er, bounce back without any serious side effects."

"My daughter doesn’t drink," Raphael snapped. "She hates the taste of alcohol."

"Yes, and she’s also a virgin saint who flitters about her day with angel’s wings." Melana glanced at her husband and rolled her eyes, her expression so much like Callie’s that it was unnerving. "Perhaps, Raphael, you should consider taking off your rose colored glasses before we see the damage for ourselves." To George, she added, "My husband feels that his daughter can do no wrong. This will be your fault somehow so brace yourself."

George had no idea how to respond, so he indicated the elevator behind them. "She’s on the fifth floor. Uhm, Dr. Shepherd, he was the attending on duty last night, has gone home for the day, but Chief Webber has taken over Callie’s case and they’re really pulling out all the stops. You know, she’s one of us."

"Not quite," Raphael replied, looking him up and down. "You are still an intern. A poor, first year intern. And my daughter-"

"Oh for Heaven’s sake," Melana exclaimed, her attention still on George. "No one is good enough for her. Ever. He would find fault with Jesus if she brought him home. She brought home a wonderful boy from Mexico who Raphael said was too low class. She brought home a handsome young man from her university and Raphael said that he had no table manners and his mother was that famous woman who teaches etiquette. Calliope brought home musicians and-"

"Musicians are *scum*!" Raphael told her. "I was not going to stand by and watch our only daughter, the very same one who aced her SAT’s, get involved in that business."

Melana ignored him and continued to talk to George, who hit the elevator button as he listened. "Have you heard her sing yet? I wanted her to sing at Carnegie Hall one day. I wanted her to act on Broadway in ‘Evita’. She was so good, always cast as the lead in the plays during her summer breaks, and then she graduated high school, an agent wanted to sign her, and Raphael says no. He says she has to go to medical school and then she chose her specialty simply because it’s where all the cute boys were. Honestly, breaking bones? She’s a *girl*."

"Mel," Raphael said. "Can we please not?"

"I gave you two sons. You could have let me have my little girl."

"I thought Callie had three brothers," George said.

"Tell him what happened to your other son, Mel." Raphael waited, looking at her innocently.

She said something in Greek and hit the button to the elevator again. "If we had been brought here because we were injured we would now be dead. Why is this elevator so slow?"

"My wife has very old fashioned beliefs." Raphael regarded her for a moment, then told George, "Cambyses is gay. This is a fact that Melana cannot overcome so she refuses to acknowledge his ‘difference’."

"He’ll grow out of it. It’s just a phase."

"A phase that he’s had since he was fifteen?" Raphael asked.

Melana waved a hand and said, "If *your* daughter can stop dressing like a gangster then Cam can beat this affliction as well."

The elevator finally opened and George indicated that they should enter first. It was thankfully empty. He saw that Melana was still regarding him and he squirmed a little and said, "I didn’t know that Callie could sing."
"Well, have you seen her pitch a tantrum yet?" Melana asked. "Her singing is just as impressive."

George smiled. "Now that, I have firsthand knowledge of."

"I’m sure you deserve whatever she dishes out," Raphael told him. "How much alcohol are they alleging she drank?"

"She was unconscious when she was brought in," George admitted.

"What!?" Raphael roared. "Ay dios mio! How? How did this happen? You did this! You!"

"Told you," Melana said to George, then looped her arm through his. Her face was strained now and her worry for her daughter was evident. She valiantly patted George’s hand. "Ignore him. He’s gruff as a bear, but stings as hard as a butterfly."

The doors opened and George indicated that they had arrived. He led them down the hallway and paused outside Callie’s door. It took everything that he had inside to say what came next. "Look, I’d rather you hear this from me than anyone else. This is being treated as a -"

Chief Webber emerged from Callie’s room and almost ran into Raphael. He glanced up from her chart, started to apologize, and then saw Melana. "My god," he said. "If I hadn’t just been in to see Callie I’d think that she was wandering the halls. I’m Chief Webber."

George made the introductions and said, "I was just about to explain Callie’s situation when you came out. Maybe you should - you know, be unbiased, Chief Webber."

Webber looked at George, who had been unable to hide the desperation his voice. "There are privacy issues, Dr. O’Malley."

"No, there’s not." George pointed at Callie’s chart. "She signed off on a medical waiver when she first started. She lists them as medical contacts and agreed to full disclosure."

"We are her parents." Melana looked back and forth between the two men. "This is our child. Please- is she okay?"

Webber indicated an empty conference room across the hall and said, "Please have a seat and we’ll be right in."

Callie’s parents hurried into the room and Webber closed the door, leaving himself and George in the hallway. "Do they know what transpired between you and Dr. Stevens?"

"I’d be in the ER in they did." George ran a hand through his hair. "And how do you know?"

"It’s my business to know. I’m not judging you, I can’t, but they’re going to eventually want answers that I will *not* give them."

"I know." George nodded. "I - I should probably go check on Callie."

"Dr. Karev is with her. And you’re coming with me."

George looked back at Callie’s door and shoved his fists in his pockets. Anger, hot and fiery, raced through him. Alex Karev had found her. Alex Karev had moved into George’s territory and Callie was doing nothing to stop it. He refused to imagine what was taking place in Callie’s room. A tearful reunion? A kiss? "Fine. Let’s get it done."

Melana and Raphael’s joined hands were on the table and Raph stood a little when the doctors came in. Chief Webber nodded at him and took a seat directly across from him. George sat across from Melana and nervously twisted the silver wedding band on his finger. No one spoke for a moment and Chief Webber laid the chart on the table, opening it. He rifled through a couple of pages and said, "Callie was unresponsive when she was brought in. Bloodwork confirmed that she had a potentially fatal amount of alcohol in her system. Because of her breathing, she was put on a respirator and -"

"Is she breathing now? On her own?" Raphael asked.

"Yes." Chief Webber replied. "We took the tube out this morning, but that’s not the most worrying aspect. We’re treating this as a suicide attempt. We have every reason to believe that your daughter purposely tried to end her life last night. Now, she says that she didn’t and-"

"Then she didn’t," Raphael stated calmly. "I want to see her."

"Let him finish, Raph." Melana looked crestfallen, crushed. "George, what do you think?"

Her face was a mirror of Callie’s face the day she had learned the truth and her dark eyes, while creased on the edges where Callie’s were smooth, were imploring him. He looked away quickly, unable to stand the reminder. "I - I don’t believe her. I think she wanted to die."

"And why is that?" Raphael demanded. "What the hell did you do to her, you little bastard? What?"

George took a deep breath. "There are circumstances that you’re not aware of and it’s - it’s up to her to decide what she wants to share."

Raphael’s eyes narrowed. "You don’t believe her yet you hide information for her? You want us to think that she’s the guilty one. I see what you’re doing. You want us to believe that she’s weak and I know my daughter. I know her. She would never do this. Never."

"Please, Raphael." Melana dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Dr. Webber? Is - is my child okay?"

George stared at the wall and spoke no more.

He didn’t need to.

The Chief was in charge and someone had to be.

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 8
*~*~*~*~*~

"I put the top up on your car last night. It corners like it’s on rails."

"Okay. Now you’re quoting ‘Pretty Woman’. You really are the perfect man."

"Well, yeah."

Callie pointed at his arm. "And you’re carrying my purse."

"Oh! This has been in my locker all night." Alex handed Callie her black leather bag. "It’s not really my style, but I think I could make it work."

"I know I have something for pain in here."

His mind raced back to the empty bottle Addison had found. "What kind of something?"

"Tylenol. Extra strength. A sledgehammer would do in a pinch." She dug through every compartment and sighed. "My head is going to blow off. I’ve had intimate relationships with hangovers before, but we’ve never been sadomasochistic in our endeavors."

"There’s a difference between nearly dead and hungover."

"O’ death, thou comest when I had thee least in mind." She gave up the search and looked at him. "You know, everyone thinks I was trying to murder myself. Webber is actually saying things like ongoing counseling and mentioned a monitoring anklet like I’m Lindsay *freakin’* Lohan."

"That’s insulting. You? So much better looking. You want me to talk to him? Put in a good word?"

"You don’t agree with him?" Her eyes widened. "You believe me?"

"I believe you."

"Really?"

"I think that if you were going to put your own lights out you’d be a little more creative." He leaned forward and smiled at her. "And you did tell me exactly where you were."

"I thought Addison and Mark-"

"No, I called you. You answered," he said. "People who want to die don’t generally answer the phone. Even when the ring tone is as annoying as yours. Seriously? Marilyn Manson?"

"I’m gonna change your tone to ‘Pretty Woman’," she said, laughing a little. Then she hissed and grabbed her head. "Shit. This sucks."

"That bad, huh?"

"That bad. Oh! I didn’t tell you," she replied, massaging her temple. "George has been professing his love all day and as an added bonus, he got his mom to plead his case and tell me a story about how Harold ... *Harold*, Alex, had cheated on her. And the moral of the story was that they were happy anyway."

"Oooooh, mom scores for the dirty win." Alex sat down beside her. "You think she was telling the truth?"

"Who knows? Mothers have a tendency to protect their kid. Well, except mine. I have no doubt she would throw me to the wolves and then stay to monitor the scoreboard." She shrugged, then her face fell. "And my mother is on her way. I can't repress it anymore. Think you could help me out of this bed?"

Alex shook his head. "No. You’re right where you need to be. And as much as I’d like to grab you and go -"

"I just need to go to the bathroom." Callie held up a comb and a small bottle of hairspray that she pulled from her purse. "I should probably fix my hair before the Devil comes calling."

"Is she really that bad?"

"She’s me." Callie nodded. "On ten. And you've only seen me on *four*."

"Holy hell. That is scary. Come on." He lowered the side of the bed and untangled the wires on the IV and heart monitor. The monitor was small, portable, and he laid it on her lap. He pulled the pulse oximeter from her finger and silenced the machine before it could protest. Finally, he stepped up beside her and gently eased her legs from beneath the cover.

"Alex?"

"Yeah."

"I’m not broken."

He looked down at her then and realized that he was handling her like a newborn. "Are you sure about that?"

"Well, my voice barely works and my throat feels like I’ve been swallowing fire, but on the whole I’m in one piece."

"What about your heart?"

She looked away. "I’m a big girl and you don’t have to use kid gloves with me."

"I’d never insult you by doing that. You know I tell you exactly how it is." Alex helped her stand and waited while she adjusted her gown for modesty’s sake. "They cut your clothes off, by the way."

"I bet you loved that."

"You’d be proud of me. As much as I was tempted to watch, I didn’t."

"Wonders never cease." Callie walked into the bathroom and was pleased to see that someone had set out a few toiletries. She couldn’t wait to wash her face, brush her teeth, and pull a comb through her hair. She glanced at her reflection and drew up short. "Holy shit! I did kill myself. I’m a zombie."

"Not quite zombie. More like the walking wounded." Alex joked and closed the door. He straightened her bed and sat down. The rumors were flying in the hospital. Everyone was speculating about who and what had caused Callie Torres, the ‘Bonecrusher’, to crack. Gossip, especially in a place like Seattle Grace, spread faster than wildfire and before Alex had gotten up to the fifth floor he had heard no less than three different first hand accounts of what had transpired. By people who had not even been on duty.

None of it painted Callie in a nice light and that, despite any evidence to the contrary, would keep him firmly on her team. He refused to even entertain the thought that what people were saying could be possible. He may not have known Callie very long, but she knew how to play the game, and she wasn’t likely to just stop batting before the last inning was finished.

He stood when the bathroom door opened and met her halfway. "Where are you hiding the magic wand? You look like yourself again!" He wolf whistled and leered at her, but she didn’t smile. "Hey? What are you thinking?"

"I’m not this person."

"What person?" He waited for her to reply and when she didn’t, he lifted her chin. "What person, Cal?"

"I’m not that girl. I don’t let a guy make me crazy. I just don’t. I never have. And last night-"

"What about it?"

"I became that girl. I became that idiot who can’t think straight because the only guy she ever loved is an asshole so she takes it out on herself. This is *not* my fault. My brain just stops working when he’s around or when he’s not around at all and I just happen to think of him and then I want to tie him to an anchor and drop him in the ocean. And then die rescuing him. BECAUSE I AM AN IDIOT."

"There’s a simple explanation."

"I’m going with the idiot thing. I should get that put on a little round pin and wear it on my scrubs so that all doubt is erased and the next guy who wants to screw me over will just do it up front. At least they’d be open about it."

"You’re talking way too much. I don’t mind, but your throat’s not getting any better." Alex shook his head. "And the reason your brain stops working is because you still love him. And as hurt as you are, you’re not ready to let him go."

"I could be. Maybe I am."

"Liar."

Callie groaned and laid her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin against her soft curls for a long while. "What I am gonna do, Alex?" she finally said.
Neither realized that they had an audience.

"You’re going to explain yourself. And you will do it now, Calliope."

"Son of a bitch." Callie cringed, took a step back and looked at her parents, then at George, who was glaring at her with his arms crossed. "Perfect timing as usual, Mom. Hi, Daddy."

Melana crossed her arms over her chest and stared back and forth between Callie and Alex. Raphael started toward his daughter, but his wife stopped him. "Do you know what they’ve been telling us, Callie? What your *boss* has told us about you?"

"Go ahead. Get it out of your system, Mom. I’m listening."

"I gave you the life that you have! And the only one of us who gets to take it is *me*!" Melana snapped, her eyes blazing. "What is it with you and Cambyses? I think sometimes that the two of you conspired against me in the womb together while you were stretching me half to death! Do you know what it’s like for a parent to get this kind of news? Do you even care what you put us through? All your life you have been pampered, spoiled, and this is how you thank us? How you thank me?"

Callie simply looked at her. Melana took a step forward and pointed her finger at her daughter. "Are you going to explain? Are you? Who is this man? And what the hell are you doing?"

"Is that it?" Callie asked her. "Are you done? Or do you want me to wait while you load the other barrel."

"YOU ARE TRYING MY PATIENCE!"

"You confused me a little, Mom! You usually jump straight into the condemnation, then the guilt trip, and *then* you threaten to kill me. You did it backwards this time."

"Raph, will you do something about your child?"

Raphael moved around his wife and hugged Callie. Behind them, Melana began to curse, very well, in Greek *and* Spanish, but Raphael ignored her and gave his daughter a kiss. "Mija, your voice. You don’t need to explain anything right now." He glanced at Alex and extended his hand. "Hello, I’m Raphael."

"Alex Karev." Alex, who had been staring at Melana with wide eyed wonder, turned to the older man and shook his hand. "Callie’s told me all about you. It’s so nice to finally meet you."

"Who is he?" Melana asked George, who was standing next to her. "This man with the shifty eyes and smooth tongue?"

"I’m a doctor. I work with Callie." Alex extended his hand, but the woman simply glared at him.

"Don’t expect her to be nice, Alex. You saved my life. She may push you off the roof later on as punishment." Callie pushed Alex's hand down. Her mother looked shocked. "Yeah, Mother, as usual you know nothing about everything."

"You saved her?" Melana asked Alex. "You were with her?"

"Well, I - I brought her to the hospital." Alex barely had the words out before Raphael had him in a bear hug. He patted the older man on the back, clearly uncomfortable, and waved away the gratitude. "I was just in the right place at the right time, Mr. Torres. It was my pleasure."

"Oh, I’m sure it was," Melana said, eyes narrowed. "Callie, are you so generous with your affection with all of your co-workers?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Callie growled. "Usted es muy loca en la cabeza!"

"English is your first language, Calliope. I saw to that," Melana pointed out. "And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m suggesting. You’re being purposely obtuse or perhaps you really are as ignorant as your behavior last night would imply."

"Okay, that’s it," George said, watching his wife’s face fill with color. "Callie’s not ignorant and I can’t imagine that calling her names is going to make either one of you feel any better, Mrs. Torres. So, why don’t we let her get back into bed, where she needs to be, and everyone try to calm down."

Melana spun around to face George. "You had us sit in that room and listen to the Chief of Surgery tell us that our child could have died during the night. You had him tell us that it was by her own hand and you agreed with him. You will have to forgive me if I don’t understand how that could possibly happen to a girl who called me weeks ago to tell me that she was married, that she was happy, that her life was perfect. I want answers and I want them now."

"I’m gonna go." Alex reached over and squeezed Callie’s hand. "I’ll come back later and -"

"You will stay where you are." Melana moved a little closer to Alex. "And tell me what you were doing with her last night. She claims you saved her, but I wonder how much you contributed to the problem. I see the way you look at her, Alex Karev. My daughter is married. Leave her alone."

Raphael glared at Callie. "Mija, are you - is this - are you being *unfaithful*?"

"No! No! That is absolutely not the case," Alex replied before she could. "We’re friends. That’s it. George, you better say something, man. Because Callie’s not going down like this."

"What do you mean?" Raph glanced at George who looked away. "What the - O’Malley, what did you do to my daughter? I warned you! I got in your face and I -"

"STOP! Ow! Oh my god!" Callie clutched her head because of the pain that shot through it. "Stop. Just stop."

"Why aren’t they giving her anything for the headache? Why is she suffering?" Raphael demanded.

"Perhaps to teach her that moderation is the perfect measure for everything," Melana said.

"Mom, for the love of God!" Callie shouted, then began to cry as she clutched at her throat. "I’m suffering. Okay? I’m suffering enough without your help so just enjoy the view in silence because I can’t *take* anything else. I’ve had enough. You win. I’m miserable. Inside and out! I’m miserable!"

Melana covered her mouth as Callie completely broke down. Her eyes widened in shock. Never, in Callie’s entire life, had she cried the way she was currently crying. It cut through Melana, wounded her to the bone. Looking at Raphael, she saw that he was as shocked as she was, so she took a step forward, pushing George, who had started toward Callie, out of the way. She pulled her daughter into her arms and held her tight. Very tight. "Oh, baby," she said softly. "I’m sorry. Whatever it is, whatever’s hurting you, I’ll take care of it."

Callie sniffled against her mom’s shoulder. "My head. Can you start there?"

"I- I’m sure I have something in my purse," Melana took a step back and patted Callie’s face. She lingered for a moment, then pressed a kiss against her cheek. "Let me see what I can find."

"No." George stopped her. "She can’t take anything yet, Mrs. Torres. The liver testing is -"

"But, I have just the thing. Just the right medicine." The older woman shifted a little and unzipped her bag. She clicked her tongue and out jumped a small black and white monkey, more tail than body, and it raced up her arm and settled on her shoulder. It blinked several times, using tiny hands to rub his eyes. Then it spotted Callie and opened it’s mouth wide, revealing enough deadly teeth to be intimidating.

"Who are you smiling at? Come." Callie grinned through her tears, held out her arm and the little monkey leaped and whistled, landing gracefully on her wrist. She straightened the denim covered diaper the animal wore and gave it a kiss on the head. It scampered up to her neck and ducked under her hair, peeking out at everyone from between the two handfuls that it clung to. "Yeah, I’d hide, too, if I could," she softly said. "Now stop pretending to be bashful, old man. Say hello."

The monkey came out from under her hair and waved at Alex, who stood closest.

"You can’t just watch ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’? Now you have to get a matching monkey," Alex said, taking a step back as the monkey ‘smiled’ again. "It’s all teeth."

"You told me you slept through the movie, ass!" Callie told him. "And I had Gucci first. Before all the cool kids were doing it."

"Why is it looking at me? Is it going to bite me?"

"Only if I tell him to."

Alex held his hand out and the little monkey grabbed his finger and lifted it up and down. "Is he shaking my hand?"

"Monkeys are much more civilized than people. Especially my people." Callie stroked the monkey on the back and he turned into her, hugging her around the neck. She cradled it like baby and glanced at her mother, who was glaring at her. "You had that one coming, Mom. Now, this is Alex. He’s one of my best friends and later on you’ll meet Addison. She’s the other one."

"You always have to get the last word." Melana reached out and shook Alex’s hand. "Thank you, Dr. Karev. For whatever you did."

Alex shook her hand and glanced at George, who was watching the exchange with a stricken look on his face. "No problem. As weird and amusing as all of this has been ... I really need to head out. So, it was nice to meet you both. Callie, I’ll see you later." He walked across the room and paused next to George. "Can you come outside for a second?"

George took a deep breath. Callie was ignoring him again, openly, brazenly. He watched as her mother helped her into the bed and pulled the cover over her lap. "Yeah," he finally said.

Alex led him across the hallway into the same empty conference room that Chief Webber had used. He waited for George to enter and then closed the door and leaned against it. "Listen, man, I told the truth in there. Nothing’s happened between me and Callie."

"Really? You didn’t kiss her? You didn’t touch her?"

"I know this is hard to believe because she’s cool as hell, but all we’ve done is hang out so far. That’s it."

"So far? So far!? I will kill you, Alex! Dead! Stay away from my wife!"

"Nah, I don't think I will. Now that I’ve gotten to know her I can tell you that she is one hell of a woman and you’re an idiot."

"You think I don’t know that?"

"No. I don’t think you do. I told you once before that she was out of your league. She’s hot. She’s smart. She’s our boss. She’s *fun*. She's the kind of girl that you wake up with, twenty years from now, and she *still* makes you forget every woman you ever had in your entire life."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I like her. A lot. And if you don’t hang onto her with both hands then she’s fair game and I’m going to swoop in and do what you should have."

"Oh? And what’s that?"

"Grow up. Be a man." Alex smirked at him. "I leveled the playing field, see. Izzie’s your best friend and now Callie’s mine. And I’m just as demanding as Izzie is. We’re gonna hang out. Me and Callie. And I’m telling you upfront that I’m interested. So, all the times that I call her or you see us together in the cafeteria or she chooses me over you ... you better not say a damn thing to her. Because turnabout it fair play."

"Alex, I swear to God-"

"How does it taste? Your own medicine, that is." Alex raised his eyebrows and opened his arms, shrugging a little. "What you’ve been feeling the past couple of days? What you’re feeling right now ... knowing that I want her, knowing that I'm ready to go for it. That’s how she’s felt for months. Think about that."

"Get out."

"Oh, I’ll go, but I’ll always be around."

*~*~*~*~*~

"You’ve lost weight since the last time I was here," Raphael told his daughter. "Quite a bit."

"Yeah."

"More than you should."

"You can never be too thin."

"It’s unhealthy, mija."

Callie played with Gucci, feeding him ice chips and hiding his favorite toy, a marble, in the folds of the cover. She was aware that her parents, who were standing on either side of the bed, were watching her every move. Feeling very much like she was about to spanked, she looked up at her father and said, "I - I didn’t try to kill myself, Daddy"

"Of course you didn’t, darlin’. I know."

Callie bit her bottom lip, trying not to cry, but it was futile. Tears rolled down her face and she added, "I don’t want to be a disappointment to you. To either one of you." Callie looked at her mother. "I just - I need to admit something to you."

"Baby." Melana put a hand on her shoulder. "You can tell us anything."

Nodding, Callie took a deep breath and pulled Gucci a little closer. She rubbed her nose against his and took a deep breath. "I didn’t try to kill myself, but - but I wouldn’t have minded dying all the same."

She looked up in time to see her parents exchange a look that made her break completely. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mama. Daddy, please don’t be mad at me," she sobbed.

Raphael leaned down, kissing her cheek. "I have never been mad at you. What makes you think I’d start now?"

"You always taught me self respect."

"What you did last night - Callie, that doesn’t strip your self respect or -"

"That’s not what I mean." Callie looked into his eyes, drawing strength from him. "I want to stay married to a man who cheated on me. I want to give up the self respect you taught me and take him back. And I’m scared, Daddy. I’m so scared that he’ll do it again and I’m terrified that I’ll just look the other way if he does because I love him that much. And I’ll never have any dignity again."

Raphael yanked off his jacket and began rolling up the sleeves on his shirt. He looked at his wife and said, "You’ll need to keep a straight head, Melana. I’m sure the bail for murder will be very high and I’ll need you to post it quickly, arrange a flight out of the country, and we’ll take Calliope and go."

Melana visualized a few of the more painful ways to kill a human, then her jaw tightened and she ground her teeth as Callie buried her face in her hands. "If she wanted to be a widow, Raph, she would have taken matters into her own hands."
"She did!" Raphael snapped. "Do you not see what she’s doing? She’s punishing herself for his mistakes."

"Quiet!" Melana pointed at her husband. "You always do this. You always try to rescue her."

"He hurt her!"

"Sit down, Raphael, before one of us has a stroke." Melana glared until he acquiesced, then put a hand on her daughter’s leg. "Look at me, Calliope." She waited until she had her daughter’s full attention, then said, "If God had intended love to be a dignified affair then he’d keep the heart out of it. He made it very clear that love was a battlefield."

Callie blinked at her mother. "No. That was Pat Benatar."

"Whatever." Melana sat down beside her. "What I’m trying to say to you is that your father and I could never be disappointed in you just for falling in love. Never. And it’s not your fault if he’s unworthy. It’s not your fault that he’s a piece of sh-"

"Mom, he’s not unworthy." Callie covered her mother’s hand with her own. "And that’s the problem. I want to hate him, but I can’t. He keeps begging and pleading with me. And he keeps crying and telling me how sorry he is and I want to believe him. I do. I need to believe him. I just want him, you know. I just want him back."

"I’ll give him back to you one piece at a time, mija."

"Raphael, that is enough!"

"I won’t abide it, Melana! He-"

"You can’t understand this, Raph. You are not a woman!"

"I don’t need a vagina to know how to treat a woman!" Raphael shouted. "And I will not see her like this for another moment! It’s over! Calliope, it’s over. You will end this marriage and you will hold your head up while you do it."

"And this is why women have the babies." To her husband, Melana said, "God created women to carry love. I’m not just talking about carrying a child in your womb, Raphael, I’m talking about the way love stains a woman’s soul. It gets inside of her and blinds her. It hurts her, amazes her, and makes her hold on with both hands. You can’t fix this with violence. Only Calliope can do this."

"You just said love was a battlefield, Mel! I'm killing him."

"Stop fighting!" Callie said. She looked up at her mother and said, "You get it. You really get it, don’t you? You get *me*."

"If you feel that this is something that you can live with, we’ll support you. If you feel like it’s something that you want out of, I’ll call the lawyer myself and make sure it ends." Melana saw the shock on Callie’s face. "I know what I’ve always said and that should prove to you that love makes us all lose a little self respect. I love you, honey. Divorce is ugly, but it’s uglier to stay where you’re unhappy. I won’t judge you for this and I'll be there every step of the way, regardless of what you do."

The door opened and George walked in, carrying a tray from the cafeteria. He sat it on the rolling table in the corner and pushed it to the edge of the bed. "You really do need to try and eat something, Callie. I got everything that you like and - and I brought extra fruit for the - the monkey."

"Oh, that’s right." Melana picked up the capuchin and held it for a moment. "I was remiss in my introductions. George, this is Gucci." She stared at her son in law for a moment. "Gucci, this is Cheater. ATTACK."

The monkey sprang.

Callie screamed.

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 9
The little primate soared through the air toward George’s face, teeth bared. Callie reached up, trying to intercept the animal, but missed. "No!" she cried.

Raphael, who was hoping for as much carnage as possible, moved out of the way. He let the monkey land on George, smiled a little when the young man screeched, and then watched as Gucci ripped at George’s hair. Callie shot from the bed, but Raphael grabbed her around the waist and put a hand over her mouth to keep her from commanding the monkey to cease. Only when he felt her tears on his hand did he bark out an order and the attack finally stopped, but Gucci remain firmly on George’s head.

"Don’t make any sudden movements, George," Raph said in a low, rumbling voice. "He can sever the artery in your neck with one bite. Just one. And I can think of one very good reason why I should let him."

"So can I," Melana agreed. "Perhaps you should instruct him to move a little lower, Raph. I’m sure there’s an artery below the belt that controls what he so obviously can’t."

Callie finally succeeded in pushing her father’s hand away. "Gucci, come," she said through her tears.

"Gucci, stay!" The authority in Raphael’s voice overrode her weak summon and the monkey, though confused, made no move to leave his new perch. "I trusted you, George. You gave me your word that you would take care of my little girl."

"I know," George shakily replied. "And I will."

Callie struggled harder as George lowered his arms and the monkey cried out, agitated by the movement. "He’s bleeding. Daddy, he’s bleeding. Oh, my god."

Raphael narrowed his eyes at George and said, "You’ve got angels on your side, boy. Gucci, come."

The monkey hopped onto Raphael’s hand and Callie broke loose and rushed to her husband, who was dumbstruck, staring at the scratches on the backs of his hands. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was superficial, then cupped his cheek, thumbing away the blood from a small knick. "Are you okay? I am so sorry." He nodded and she turned, nostrils flaring, and shouted at her parents, "How could you do that to him?"

"How could we not?!" Melana demanded. "What’s a few little cuts compared to what he did to you?"

"I thought you understood! You said that violence wasn’t the answer!"

"I understand completely that you’re in love with him." Melana shot back. "And I said that your father shouldn’t resort to violence. I didn’t say anything about Gucci."

"Get out. Go back home and stay the hell away from me!" Callie pointed at the door, which opened.

"What is all that noise?" Bailey asked, walking into the room. "This is a -" Her gaze landed on the monkey, which grinned at her, and she shook her head. "I am not seeing what I think I’m seeing. This is a hospital, people! A hospital! Get that monkey and-"

"He’s a trained service animal," Melana said. "I have epilepsy. He can usually warn me that an attack is coming."

"Uh huh." Bailey had now seen the blood on George’s hands and crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, I can see how trained it is. O’Malley, go down to the clinic and tell Stevens to clean you up."

"No." George shook his head. "I can’t do that." He looked at Callie. Melana had said that Callie was in love with him and that was enough to glue his feet to the floor. "I’m not leaving."

"Then go in the bathroom and wash your hands!" Bailey snapped. She watched as her intern walked past her and shut the bathroom door, then turned her attention to Callie. "Dr. Torres, how are you feeling?"

"Is that a trick question?" Callie wiped at the tears on her face and added, "I’m ready to leave. Can you get the paperwork started?"

"This is not a hotel," Bailey told her. "You don’t decide when you checkout. I do. And you’re not going anywhere until you make your Psych consult. It’s in thirty minutes."

"Oh, come on!"

"Chief Webber explained it to us, mija," Raphael said, handing the monkey off to Melana. "It’s just a precaution. What you did-"

"For the last freakin’ time ... I did not try to kill myself! I had too much to drink! It happens!" Callie was angry, angrier than she could remember being. "And I’m not talking to you, Dad! What you just did was fucked up!"

"Do not use that language, Calliope! You are not too old for a mouth full of soap." Melana opened the large bag and Gucci scampered back inside and settled onto his blanket. "Once you’ve explained yourself I’m sure it will be fine. Your father and I will go with you and wait."

"No." George emerged from the bathroom, drying his scraped hands on a towel. "I’m going with her."

"You will stay away from her," Raph growled.

"She is my *wife*. You can threaten me, you can call me names, and you can try to intimidate me with your monkey or anything else in your arsenal, but she’s my *wife* and I’m not going anywhere."

Raphael glared. "Really? Was she your wife when you were unfaithful?"

"Dad."

"Don’t you ‘Dad’ me, Calliope. I’m not the bad guy here. He is. And he can puff up and try to posture all he wants, but at the end of the day he still lost the right to call you his wife and if he does it one more time I’m going to strangle him."

"That’s enough." Bailey looked at Callie’s father then at George. She could see that distance needed to be put between them as soon as possible. "I need George to run an errand anyway so he can escort her upstairs. Dr. O’Malley, I realize that you’re not on duty, but if you could please pick up the Sanderson labs that would be great."

"No. No way!" Callie shook her head back and forth as George beckoned her. "I can’t do this today. Not today! I have to leave."

"You got somewhere else to be?" Bailey asked. "Maybe a bar? A liquor store?"

"Look at me! I’m surrounded by crazy! I am not in any shape to talk to *anyone* about *anything*. If I go up there, they’ll keep me. They’ll probably put a straight jacket on me and I’d rather skip having to gnaw through restraints today." Callie put a hand on her head as the throbbing intensified. "Besides you still owe me one."

"Come again." Bailey raised her brows.

"I saved you from Sydney! Last month. She said she had nothing to do and kept hanging around you. I made her come with me. I made her scrub in with *me*. You said you owed me one and I’m collecting."

Bailey’s jaw dropped a little. "You saving me from Sydney is not even in the same ballpark as me putting my ass on the line with the Chief. And I think I paid you back last night after I sucked five *full* containers out of your stomach before you were finally clear."

"You were just doing your job. Me hanging out with Sydney? That is not part of *my* job." Callie’s eyes were huge. "She *hugged* me. She *braided* my *hair* so that it would look better under my scrub cap. I spent seven hours straight listening to her chatter about healing with love and then I had to have *lunch* with her on top of that. Now ... pay up."

"She braided your hair?" Bailey couldn’t hide her laughter. She tilted her head back a little and tried to imagine it. When she finally looked at Callie she saw the desperation in the other woman’s face and sighed. "Oh, all right! Your last liver test was fine. You’re clearly surrounded by family and you’re safe and you need to go get a decent meal. I forgot that Psych was too busy to see you today."

"Dr. Bailey," George said, shaking his head. "Don’t. She needs to go up and -"

"Be quiet, O’Malley." Bailey opened Callie’s chart and glanced through it. After she scribbled a couple of notes, she addressed Callie. "Give me your word that you’ll come back in the next couple of days and do this consult."

"Fine."

"Now promise me that you’re okay."

"I’m fine. Perfect. My mother has zipped up the monkey, my husband has zipped up his pants, and I’m getting out of here so life is good. And I did *not* try to kill myself."

Bailey shook her head. "Two days, Torres. That’s forty eight hours for you to schedule this appointment and get it over with."

"He name is O’Malley," George pointed out. "And she’ll be here. I’ll make sure of it."

"George, you may be in traction by then." Bailey closed Callie’s chart. To Callie, she added, "Good luck."

"Thanks. I’ll need it."

*~*~*~*~*~

Addison sat in the lounge, an unopened magazine in front of her. She wanted to go and see Callie, but every time she headed for her friend’s room, she stopped. How was she going to apologize enough? The things that she had said to Callie had been wrong, uncalled for, and she couldn’t help but think that it contributed to what Callie had done. Taking a deep breath, she flipped open the magazine and glanced down at it.

Mark sat down next to her, handing her a steaming cup of coffee. "It’s khaki. Just the way you like it."

"What?" She didn’t look at him.

"It’s more milk than coffee. It’s khaki." Mark put his hand on hers. "Callie’s okay. I overheard Bailey and Karev talking just now. Bailey’s letting her go home. Apparently Karev pled her case and is backing her up on the whole ‘accidental’ thing."

"Did you look in her chart? How’s her liver?"

"You know I did." Sloan grinned. "She’s one lucky girl. That’s all I can say. How she escaped this without any permanent damage is beyond me."

"Oh, she’s damaged."

"Just go talk to her."

"And say what? ‘I’m sorry that I got pissed at you and called you a bitch just because I was jealous of you and Alex Karev’?" As soon as she uttered the words, she realized what she had done.

Mark’s eyes widened. "Can you repeat that, Addison? I couldn’t have heard it right."

"It’s nothing."

"Do you have something going with that kid?" Mark asked.

"No." Addison shook her head. "We - we kissed one time and-"

"YOU KISSED HIM!?"

"Mark-"

"When?"

"A few weeks ago."

"Was that before or after we decided to do the sixty days?"

Addison faltered a little. It was only a split second, but it was enough. Mark shoved away from the table and stomped out of the lounge. She watched him go with her eyes wide and then groaned, planting her forehead on the open magazine. "Sucks. Sucks. Sucks."

"I’ll tell you what sucks," Bailey said, taking Mark’s vacant seat. "Callie Torres’ life. That sucks. Her mother’s monkey attacked George. They know what he did with Stevens and when a parent knows her child has been betrayed, well, they get a little crazy."

Addison finally lifted her head and looked at her friend. "You lost me at monkey."

Bailey quickly explained and watched as Addison put her head down again. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do not tell me that you have a hangover!"

"Men."

"No. We are not discussing men."

Addison, with her head still on the magazine, plowed ahead. "Mark can’t really get jealous. You know? He cheated on me after I cheated on my husband to be with him and then he came here and screwed everything with legs, including Callie, so he can’t get mad just because me and Alex had a -"

"WHAT?" Bailey slapped her hand on the table next to Addison’s head, causing the red head to look at her. "I swear to God ... I don’t have interns. I have nymphomaniacs. When I was in my first year I did not have sex one single time. Why? Because I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to learn. I don’t know what the hell kind of hormones they injected into my five idiots, but *you* should be immune! Alex Karev!?"

"It was just a kiss."

"A kiss of death by the looks of you," Bailey growled. "If everyone who worked here could open up a chart instead of their fly then life would be a little better all around."

"I kissed him on the mouth. Not there."

"I’m pretending that I didn’t hear that."

Addison sighed. "By the way, are you sure that Callie needs to go home so soon?"

"Does everyone know the status of my patient? Karev was waiting on me in the parking lot when I got here this morning. He insisted that she’s fine and put up a damn good argument as to why she should go home."

"Why is that?"

"Because at least when she’s back at the hotel she can lock people out." Bailey sipped her cola. "And Callie got me on a technicality."

"A technicality?"

"Sydney Heron."

Addison wrinkled her nose. "Sydney Heron?"

"Callie had a favor coming. From me. I’m willing to let her go because I’m convinced of two things."

"And that would be?"

"That anyone who had to work seven straight hours with Sydney Heron earns the emotional breakdown that eventually comes. And George O’Malley is not going to let his wife out of his sight." Bailey picked up her bag of chips and opened it. "She’ll be okay."

"She’s stubborn."

"She needs to be. I don’t judge a lot of the crap that goes on around here because my brain doesn’t process it, but what he did with Stevens? *That* sucked."

"He loves Callie. He'll make this right."
"They got married fast."

"He loves her," Addison repeated. "So do I. She’s my best friend. My best friend that I haven’t seen really since she woke up."

"She may still be up there. Olivia’s on the chart so it’ll probably be hours before she’s released. Can she be slower?" Bailey ate a few chips, then looked confused. "Why haven’t you been up to see her?"

"We had a really, really bad fight before she drank herself into a coma." Addison made a face. "I thought she was sleeping with Alex."

"This?" Bailey said. "This is why I don’t want to talk about men. I knew that Alex was too interested in her damn case."

"They’re not sleeping together. They’re friends."

Bailey stood and picked up her tray. "You know what? I can’t wrap my head around who’s doing what with who so I’m just going to go do what I know. And that’s cut someone open. Too bad I can’t pick who from the employees here. This whole place needs a lobotomy."

Addison stood as well, glancing down at the khaki coffee Mark had set in front of her. She lifted the cup and took a sip. It was lukewarm, but it was exactly the way she liked it. Mark knew those things. He knew which movies made her cry, which chocolate she needed during PMS, and how she took her coffee. It was rare to find someone who *cared* about something so mundane. Derek had certainly never, even after all their years together, known how much milk versus coffee made her a happy girl.

Dropping her food in the trash, she headed up to Callie’s room. George was standing in the hallway and he looked so happy to see her that it took a little of the load off her shoulders. "Hey, George."

"Oh! Hey!" he greeted, then shifted his eyes a little.

She followed his gaze and saw an older gentleman standing nearby, openly glaring at George. "You must be Mr. Torres." She extended her hand. "I’m Addison Montgomery. Your daughter is my best friend."

"Miss Montgomery, it’s nice to meet you," Raphael said as he clasped her hand in his. "Callie talks about you all the time."

"Call me Addison," she replied. Guilt rose inside her at his comment and she looked back at George. "Is it okay if I go in?"

He looked pained at the thought of being left in the hallway with Mr. Torres again, but he nodded. "Of course. Callie wanted to take a shower so her mom was helping her out a little, but she should be finished soon. It’s gotta be soon. Really soon now."

After she gave him a reassuring smile, Addison rapped lightly on the door and pushed it open. She drew up short when she got a good look at Callie’s mother. "Oh my god. The two of you look like-"

"Twins," Callie finished for her, coming out of the bathroom, her hair wet. "Yeah, we never hear that. Mom, meet Addison. Addy, this is my mother."

"Melana," Mrs. Torres replied. The two women shook hands. "Addison is a lovely name."

"Thank you." Addison turned her attention to Callie and frowned. Her friend looked exhausted, beaten, and was still far too pale as far as Addy was concerned. "How do you feel?"

Callie shrugged. "Mom? Would you mind asking George to get my clothes out of my locker? I don’t really want to go home in this hospital gown." Her mother nodded and Callie added, "And could you and Daddy give me a minute alone? I need to talk to Addison."

"Absolutely, honey."

Addison waited until Melana had left the room and then said, "Look, I’m sorry. I was one hundred percent wrong and -"

"Shut up."

"Callie-"

"Shut up! You apologized last time. It’s my turn. I hit you below the belt with the whole Derek thing and I’m sorry."

"I had it coming. And I called you a bitch."

"Yeah. I didn’t have that coming."

"I know."

"I didn’t make out with Alex."

"I know that, too."

The two women looked at one another for several moments and then Callie said, "I guess this is where we hug."

Addison took a step forward and pulled her best friend into her arms. "We’re getting better at this whole friendship thing."

Callie held onto her for a while. "I really need a friend right now."

"I’m here." Addison took a step back and then pointed a the bed. "Sit down. You look like hell."

Callie crawled back into the bed and took a deep breath, hoping it would settle her frayed nerves. She told Addison about Louise and then relayed the events of the morning, her eyes filling with tears by the time she reached the worst of the gory details. "And even after the monkey attacked him, my father threatened him, and he knew that they knew ... he stayed. He *stayed*, Addison."

"He regrets it."

"How do you know that?"

"He stayed."

"No offense, but you tried to stay with Derek, too. You came all this way and you tried to hold on with both hands, but you couldn’t. And you’re thinking about reconciling with the man who broke up your marriage."

Addison frowned. Reconciling with Mark would probably be hard to do now that he was so pissed at her. She wanted to mention it, but decided to keep her own problems to herself for the time being. Callie needed her. "My marriage was broken before I cheated. Love couldn’t fix it, but it was still worth trying. It’s better to try and find out it didn’t work than not try and wonder ten years from now if you made the wrong choice."

"Do you know that George never even told me he loved me until the night he proposed?" Callie replied. "I keep thinking about that. It was everything I could have wanted it to be. It was unexpected, it was sweet, and it was the most romantic moment of my entire life.

"But that little voice in the back of my head told me not to do it, told me that he was still reeling from his dad’s death, and that it was a mistake." Her eyes met Addison’s. "Do you know that the only reason I said yes to him that night was because I couldn’t hurt him? I couldn’t turn him down because he said his stomach was filled with asphalt."

Addison blinked several times. "Asphalt? We have very different concepts of romance."

Callie attempted to grin, but didn’t quite make it. "I knew better, but I just love him so much and he was finally offering me everything I wanted. I knew better. I did. And this ... this is apparently God getting back at me for depriving my mother of the white dress she picked out for me years ago."

"I’m not a religious person, but I can’t imagine that God, whoever that may be, would hurt you this much over a dress." Addison put her hand on Callie’s. "What do you want? Do you want to end it and go your separate ways or do you want to work on it?"

The silence between them was heavy and would have been uncomfortable had it not been for their mutual understanding that the truth was often hard to speak. The question hung in the air, demanding attention, though, and the dark haired ‘bonecrusher’ knew that her heart was about to suffer a permanent fracture. She knew the answer. She knew it through and through. And it terrified her.

"I want him back," Callie finally admitted. "But then I think that I’m gonna be the butt of the joke here at work. Moreso than I already am, because then I’m the wife who takes crap from her husband and stays. And everyone knows. Everyone has an opinion and I don't really care what people think. Really, I don't. But even *I* hate those weak women who become doormats."

"I can’t tell you what to do and I know this is a sore subject, but while you were gone for those fifteen days I hung out with George. You are my best friend and I will always support you because I love you, but I feel it in my gut that you guys can work this out. I don’t have any doubt at all that George is madly in love with you and he wants to make amends. And you love him, Callie. Do you want to live without him because of what people may say or fight for what’s yours and prove everyone wrong?"

"How do I fight when I have no pride?"

"Pride goeth before the fall, Cal. And you’re ready to fall. Let him catch you when you do."

There was a soft knock on the door and George pushed it open. In one hand he carried the duffel bag containing Callie’s clothing. In the other he held her discharge papers, which he had signed. He handed the bag to Callie and said, "Your parents got a room at the Archfield. They’re waiting in the hallway to drive your car." He looked at his wife. "I’ll understand if you don’t want me to go with you, but I would really like to."

"Why?"

"Because I love you. And I’m tired. I haven’t slept well in weeks and the only way I’m going to is if I can see you, hear you breathe. I won’t touch you. I won’t force you to talk to me if you don’t want, but I need to look at you. I just - I need to look at you for a while."

//I’d be happy to just to look at you from across the room. And even that, anything, any piece of you - I mean, hopefully all of you, that would be the best thing - because I love you.//

Callie’s dark brown eyes met his green ones. He didn’t blink, didn’t glance away. Whether it was the memory of his proposal or a death wish on his own part was unclear, but the plea in his eyes never wavered. Addison squeezed her hand, prompting her to answer. "Yeah. Okay."

"Okay." George smiled at her.

Addy’s sigh of relief went unnoticed by both her friends.

*~*~*~*~*~

George waited in Callie’s room as she got dressed in the bathroom. Addison had gone, promising that she would drop by later in the evening when her shift was over and George had impulsively hugged her. He needed to hug someone. He felt like a dead man walking. She had hugged him back and whispered that it would be okay before she headed into the hallway to keep Callie’s parents at bay. He was staring out the window at the surprisingly sunny sky when he heard the bathroom door open.

Callie was wearing a pair of black jeans that she had picked up at the mall when they had gone shopping in Vegas. They had been skin tight at the time, causing George’s mouth to water as they hugged her rounded backside. Now, however, he saw that they were loose, hanging dangerously low on her hips. They hung so low that she had been forced to put a cuff on each leg so that she wouldn’t trip in the Crocs she wore. Instead of wearing the simple red shirt that had been stowed away in her bag, she had chosen to wear one of her body hugging, cleavage baring, tank tops. Also black. Also a lot looser than usual.

George would have enjoyed the view if he had not been shocked as hell at the patch of skin that peeked below it. Her stomach, which usually had just the slightest outward curve, was flat. Completely flat. As his gaze dipped lower still he saw that her hip bones were showing over the top of her jeans and he frowned. How had he not noticed that she had wilted away? Had he always been so blind where she was concerned?

Callie patted the long, loose pony tail she had secured her hair in and took a deep breath. "You think I look slutty enough to annoy my mother?"

George shook his head. "She’s going to forget the clothes when she sees how they fit you."

Glancing down at herself, Callie nodded. "I do seem to have shed a few pounds."

Saying nothing, George watched her as she walked around the room, gathering the stuffed bear Louise had given her and then bending over to retrieve her purse from the bottom of the closet. He gasped and pointed at her backside. "Callie O’Malley!" he yelped, staring at the black ink on her lower back. "When, where and why did you get a tramp stamp!?"

Callie stood slowly, self consciously trying to pull her pants up or her shirt down. She turned and grinned a little sheepishly. "Uh, North Carolina?"

"It’s huge!" George moved around her and lifted her shirt. The tattoo was completely black and as he stared at it, he realized that it was a bird of some kind. The wings spanned the expanse of her hips and there were tribal designs on either side and underneath. He licked his lips a little and trailed his fingers over it. "It’s also hot as hell. Did - did it hurt?"

Callie’s breath caught as he traced the lines. She hated that her body wanted to react to his touch, to his nearness. She hissed when his thumb dipped a little lower and stepped away from him. Angry at herself, she pulled at her shirt and turned around. "Yeah. It hurt. I needed something physical to hurt for a while instead of the inside."

George realized that he had overstepped the invisible boundary and nodded. "What does it mean? The tattoo?"

"I got it to remind me that I can fly. Anytime. That my wings are never clipped and I’m never stuck. I can disappear."

"You almost did."

"We should go."

George wanted to continue their conversation, but she reached for her duffel and put it over her shoulder. He took it from her and carried it himself, following her into the hallway. As soon as they emerged, Melana began to fret over Callie’s weight loss, fret about her return to ‘gangster’ clothing, and then she saw the tattoo and, thankfully, it kept everyone’s attention off George for the elevator ride to the lobby. He listened as Raphael joined the chorus, complaining that Callie had ruined her beautiful complexion with the ink, that she had wasted away to skin and bones, that she should be ashamed of herself.

They cut through the ER because that was where Alex had left Callie’s car. George saw Meredith, who smiled at him, then she looked at Callie and her smile faded. He knew that she was seeing what he had seen. His bride was no longer *curvy*. He wondered again how he failed to see it. Granted, her scrubs were camouflaging and the hospital gown she had worn was a tent on anyone, but still. Then he remembered that he had seen her in her bathing suit and sarong and he had been so intent on making her listen to him that he hadn’t even noticed her size.

He definitely noticed now.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Callie dug her keys from her purse and opened the trunk on her modest red Toyota Camry Solara convertible. George had fallen in love with the stupid car after she test drove it. That had been before he knew about her money. He thought she had financed the twenty thousand dollar car. She had paid cash. She figured he would shit himself if he ever got to go to Miami with her and see her Mercedes. Or the Jag. Or the old mustang convertible that had been Cam’s at one time. Or her father’s Rolls Royce. She waited while George put her bag in the trunk, then shut it. Her mother kept a firm hold on Gucci’s Louis Vuitton carrying case.

Flipping a few buttons, Callie let the top down and cringed a little. If she had thrown up in the backseat, someone had cleaned it up, but they had left the bottles. There were three empty Kahlua White Russian bottles and a fourth full one from the pack she had purchased the morning after her fight with Addison. The larger of the bourbon bottles was in the front floorboard and the smaller was in the backseat. The smell of alcohol in the car would make eyes water, but she said nothing.

Her father was glaring at her and Callie sighed, holding out her keys to George, who wordlessly took them. After he parents were settled in the backseat, Callie crawled into the passenger seat and tilted her head back a little, enjoying the sun. It was a mistake and the harsh light caused her temples to throb. She settled her sunglasses on her nose as George started the engine.

"Callie?" Raph said, shifting his feet a little as the bottles clanked beneath them. "Do you recall telling me that you didn’t drink? That you didn’t like the taste of alcohol?"

"Yeah, Dad. It was the day after a fifty kegger frat party and I woke up face down in the sand." She rubbed her head.

"I feel like I don’t know you any more," her father said as George maneuvered them onto the main road that would lead to the hotel. "This car? This car isn’t you."

"It’s got four tires and an engine. It’s fine."

"Tattoos. Alcohol poisoning. None of this started until you eloped."

Callie saw George’s hand tighten on the gear shifter and instinctively put her hand on his. He lifted his fingers a little so that he could capture hers and she didn’t pull away. The remainder of the ride was blissfully silent, save for Gucci. Melana had opened the panel of his carrier and the wind thrilled him. He chortled his excitement, a sound that usually made Callie laugh along with him, but she never even smiled.

George let the Valet service handle the parking and Callie was glad that she didn't need to see the parking deck again. She hopped out of the car and pulled the seat forward, helping her mother out. Her father climbed out behind his wife and stood toe to with Callie, looking at her. He reached up, plucked the glasses off her face and tilted her chin. "I take back what I said earlier, Calliope," he told her.

"Which part?"

"The part where I said I could never be mad at you."

She watched as he stalked off. Her mother simply shook her head and followed, uncharacteristically quiet. George stepped up beside Callie and handed her purse to her. "He’ll come around," he softly told her, placing a hand on the small of her back.

"He’s disappointed in me. Do you have any idea how horrible it feels to know that?"

George brushed a strand of her hair back from her face and nodded, "Unfortunately. I disappointed you. And that need you have to rush after him and beg until he tells you he still loves you ... that’s how I’ve felt for weeks now." He saw her face tighten and quickly amended, "And I deserve it, but I know exactly how you feel."

Callie pulled her bag over her shoulder and walked into the hotel.
----
CH 10
*~*~*~*~*~
Addison found Mark sitting on a bed in the on call room. He had his back against the wall and his knees drawn upward and her heart raced a little when he looked at her. Swallowing hard, she locked the door behind her and leaned against it. His jaw was clenched tight and as she watched him, she saw that his eye was twitching. It was ... adorable. He was jealous.

It was also hot.

"Mark," she began.

"I don’t want to hear it."

"It was before we made the sixty day pact. Karev and I had been working together every day and it happened. I - I was lonely and we kissed. It was nothing."

"Nothing?" Mark scoffed. "This is why you fought with Callie? This is why you got drunker than I’ve ever seen you? This *intern*? He’s a baby, Addison. Pervert."

"I’m a pervert? Do you happen to remember the candle wax incident last New Year’s? Or the handcuffs? Or the-"

"That’s right, Addy. Do that thing you do where you point the finger at everyone but yourself. Go ahead."

Addison sighed and pushed away from the door. She sat next to him, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know I could pull up a hundred and one perfect comments for this situation, but I won’t. I’ll just say that I want to do this. I want to try, Mark. I want us to try to make this work."

Mark glanced at her. The twitch got worse. "If one of your comments was going to be that we’re even then-"

"Okay, skipping past that," she said. "Can you concentrate on the part where I said that I want us to be together?"

"Why?"

"Because I think that we could have something. Something rare." She chewed her bottom lip. "But so help me God, Mark, if you cheat on me again then I’m going to sleep with every man I see, take photos, and send you one every day."

The corner of his mouth lifted a little. "Is that right?"

"You’re either in this the entire way or you’re not. You give up the women, you give up your little black book --- which in your case is probably too heavy to carry anyway --- and you commit. To me."

The twitching in his eye finally fizzled out and he shifted a little so that he was facing her. "And you commit to me. We buy the house, get the dog, and have the babies. We take turns going to PTA meetings, we spend our weekends arguing about whose turn it is to pick up the dry cleaning, and we don’t look back."

Addison’s eyes were wide. "Your long term plan includes arguing over dry cleaning? And babies?"

"If I’m giving up my black book for you then you will damn well give me kids to make up for it."

"You don’t want kids, Mark. You’re just telling me what you think I want to hear."

"You got the abortion. I’m the one who bought the onesie, remember?"

"And then celebrated with your tennis partner. Oh, how vividly do I remember that. Half of the damn country club called to tell me what you were doing. And you call Alex a baby? Was she even legal?"

"What happened to not looking back?" Mark grinned at her. "We can do this, Addison. We really can have it all."

"This was far too easy. I don’t have to grovel?" She returned his smile and leaned a little closer. "Because I was going to tell you that I love you as a last resort."

He kissed her, cupping her face with his hand. It was soft, sweet, but still full of promise. When he finally pulled away she reached for the tie on his scrub pants, but he caught her hand. "No."

"No?"

"No." Mark shook his head. "We’re waiting."

"For?"

"I want to show you that I can go without sex. That you mean more to me than anything else. We’re still doing the sixty days."

Addison looked stunned. "But - wha - we took a shower together at my place! We almost-"

"Almost doesn’t count. We’re doing this right this time. No sex. With anyone."

"That is ridiculous!!!" Addison frowned when he slipped off the bed and looked at her.

He smiled and leaned down, kissing her again. "If my count is right we have thirty two more days."

"I will die."

"Buy a vibrator."

"I have two."

"Then buy some rechargeable batteries."

"Damn you."

"There’s nothing wrong with being a self pleasure junkie. I am." He put his hand on the doorknob and looked back at her. "By the way, Addison, I love you too."

Addison watched, slack jawed, as he winked and left her alone.

*~*~*~*~*~

"Did you tell her?" Izzie asked.

"Who?" Alex glanced up from the chart he was working on.

"Your new best friend," she replied. "Did you tell her that I took her DNR paperwork?"

Alex shook his head, smirking a little. "No. You are. After you apologize to her for cheating with her husband."

Izzie looked aghast. "That will *never* happen."

"Are you in love with O’Malley?" Alex closed the chart and watched her. "Seriously?"

"I thought I was," Izzie replied honestly. "I don’t have one night stands. I just - I don’t. I tried to rationalize that we were drunk and stupid, but after he kissed me in the elevator I just - I wanted to believe. I wanted it to mean something."

Alex pursed his lips. "So, when you left me for Denny ... what did that mean?"

"Alex."

"I’m just saying that I thought we had something. Something good. It wasn’t just the sex for me, Iz."

"You can’t help who you fall in love with."

Alex glared at her, not blinking. Her hair was blond again, but she had gotten it cut much shorter. It curled naturally around her face and he thought she couldn’t possibly look prettier, fresher. "Yeah," he finally said. "That’s something I found out the hard way."

"It just happened. Me and Denny."

"And you and George. You know, a lot of people would say that falling in love twice in less than a year is not possible."

Izzie watched him as he opened the chart again and wrote something inside. "Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"I wasn’t in love with George. I love George. He’s my best friend, but I - I confused love and sex. I confused being in love with being safe. He’s safe. He’s George. And he was married and leaving the house and thinking about going to Mercy West and I hated it." Izzie walked a little closer and lowered her voice. "And I did fall in love twice this year. You should know. You were the first."

Alex felt his stomach drop a little. She had loved him after all. That realization made him madder than just about anything else could have. "And I was there for the last, too. I picked you up off his bed, held you in my arms until you could stopped crying, and took you home. I stood outside the bathroom door the entire night, begging you to let me in."

"I know."

"Did you know that I would have died in his place? For you? To save you from what you became?" Alex felt the color rise into his face and hated himself for the brutal truth that was working its way from his heart. "Because I loved you that much. I loved you enough to want you happy even if it meant that I had to watch you with him. Even if it meant that you got married, had that perfect life, and came to work glowing every day. I wanted you to be happy. And that, Izzie, is how I know that you’re not in love with George because if you were in love with George ... you would have backed off a long time ago and let him have what he wants. Because love, real love, is selfless. And you’re the most self absorbed person on the face of the planet."

"You loved me?" Izzie stared at him with new eyes. "But you - you cheated on me with Olivia and -"

"Yeah. And *that’s* how I know that George understands the magnitude of his mistake and would do anything in the world to take it back. Having both been there and done that myself."

"I never knew. I never knew that you felt that way about me."

"Well, the good news is that I got over it." Alex was shocked at how easily the words rolled off his tongue. "The Izzie I loved vanished. The bad news is that every now and then she makes an appearance. And I fall again every single time she does."

She watched with shock as he gathered up the chart and tucked it under his arm. When he moved to put the ink pen in his front pocket, she caught his hand. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

"And complicate your fairy tale?" Alex shrugged. "I already told you that I wanted you to be happy. I may have given you hell over it, but I left it alone. You could probably stand to learn a thing or two from me. Callie’s not the Devil. She’s actually a decent person and you should be happy that someone loves George the way you loved Denny. Everyone should have that."

She watched him walk away.

Then she went to the chapel, where she spent the remainder of her shift lost in thought.

*~*~*~*~*~

What Callie wanted more than anything was to change into a nice dress, pull out her trusty pearls, and go crawl into her father’s lap and beg his forgiveness. For her entire life she had been a daddy’s girl. He had doted and she had tried to behave in a way that he could take pride in. What she did, however, was go straight to her room, where she locked herself in the bathroom until the hurt over her father’s words had abated enough for her to breathe again without feeling like her lungs would burst under the effort.

"Callie?" George waited fifteen minutes and finally knocked. "Can I come in?"

She opened the door and sat back down on the edge of the tub. "What?"

He had expected to see tears on her face and was both relieved and a little alarmed by the lack. "Are you okay?"

"I really don’t want anyone else to ask me that. Ever again," she replied. "Because I think that for the remainder of my life the answer is going to be no."

He kneeled down in front of her and reached for her hands, but she moved them to her sides. He put his hands on her legs instead. "It kills me to see you like this. I hate it. And it’s all my fault. I can’t think of a worse feeling in the world than to know that I did this to you."

"Having it done to me. That’s a worse feeling." She pushed his hands away. "Having you touch me after what you did? That’s even worse."


"I’m trying. I’m trying in every possible way that I know how. Can’t you just let me in a little bit? Just a little? It’s all I’m asking for."

"You asked to come here and here you are. Under the circumstances I’d say that you’re in much further than you ought to be."

"Do you want me to go?"

"Has it ever mattered what I want?"

"You held my hand in the car! I don’t understand these mixed signals!"

She raised a brow. "Considering that you wrote the book on mixed signals -"

"I’m not fighting with you. I’m not. I can’t and you don’t need the stress." George stood and put his hands in his pockets. "You do need to eat though and that’s what you’re going to do."

"I’m not hungry."

"Well, I ordered room service. We’re gonna eat and then you’re gonna get some rest."

"Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not a child."

"Then stop acting like one." George walked into the bedroom and yanked open the duffel bag. He had gotten a change of clothing for himself from his locker and he pulled the jeans and t-shirt out, laying them on the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I’m gonna take a shower."

Callie threw her hands up in the air. "Right. Make yourself at home, George."

"This is my home."

"Whatever."

He walked past her and laid his clothing on the sink. After retrieving a towel from the cupboard, he turned and looked at her. "You gonna watch me?"

She turned on her heel and slammed the door. The shower started a moment later and she yanked her cellphone from her purse. She dialed Cam’s number, but it went straight to voice mail. "Fuck," she growled.

Pacing the length of the room, she put her head in her hands and finally slumped onto the bed. She was tired of pushing George away and that realization sat in her belly like a ton of bricks. The dark circles under his eyes indicated loud and clear that he was suffering, but every time she thought about how easy it would be to sink into his arms and let him take care of her ... the mental image of him and Izzie together crept into her brain. She wondered if he had gone down on her, if he had worshipped between Steven’s thighs the way that he had once worshipped at hers. She wondered if, after it was over, he nuzzled her neck in the way that made Callie’s skin pimple with goosebumps. She wondered if he compared the two of them, perfect Izzie with her tiny waist and curvy Callie with the big everything. She wondered ... no, she had to stop wondering.

It nauseated her and she swallowed back the bitter taste in her mouth. Standing, she walked to the small wet bar and pulled open the refrigerator. It had been freshly stocked and she grabbed a small two ounce bottle of Crown Royal. Twisting the top off, she knocked it back and grimaced, then reached for the bottle of Grey Goose that was the same size; roughly two shots.

George emerged just in time to see her drain it. His mouth opened it shock, then his temper flared. "God dammit, Callie!" he shouted, rushing across the room. He slapped the bottle out of her hand and then noticed the empty one that she had set on top of the fridge. He snatched her by the upper arms, shaking her hard. "GOD DAMMIT! DID LAST NIGHT NOT TEACH YOU A FUCKING THING? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Ow." She stared, wide eyed as his fingers bit into her flesh. "You’re hurting me! George, stop! You’re hurting me!"

"YOU’RE KILLING ME! WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!?"

"STOP YELLING AT ME!" She shoved his hands off. "AND DON’T TOUCH ME!"

He yanked the small refrigerator from the counter and threw it across the room. The contents went flying. She watched in horror as he picked up a glass bottle of wine from the floor and pitched it against the wall. It shattered, staining the yellow paint crimson. Next, he turned to the contents on top of the dresser and angrily swiped everything off, then he attacked the drawers.

"George!"

"THIS STOPS NOW!" he shouted, seizing her by the shoulders and pushing her back against the wall. "Do you hear me!? You’re done! This is not the answer to our problems!"

"Stop!"

"YOU STOP! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?"

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I WAS THINKING? I WAS PICTURING YOU AND YOUR WHORE TOGETHER AND IT MAKES ME INSANE. IT MAKES ME SICK. IT MAKES ME WANT TO ERASE IT THE ONLY WAY I KNOW HOW! I WANT TO NOT FEEL LIKE THIS! I WANT TO BE NUMB!"

George gave into the tears that were stinging his eyes. "You have got to face this with a clear head! Until you do that then you’re never going to be okay, Callie, and I can’t watch you do this! I love you too damn much to watch you self destruct!"

Callie’s chin trembled and she closed her eyes, trying to will her own tears away. It was a futile, but well fought effort. "I don’t know else to survive."

His grip on her loosened a little when he saw her face fall. Reaching up, he gently touched her cheek. "Then lean on me. I’m here. Baby, I’m here and I’m not going away."

Callie did lean. It was involuntary only in that George pulled, but she didn’t struggle. She laid her head on his shoulder, her face against his neck, and let him hold her. Her hands were trapped between them, which had been intentional on George’s part, and she cried. She sobbed for what they’d had, what they had lost, and what she wanted to rebuild.

And he rubbed circles on her back, massaged the nape of her neck, and didn’t let go.

He was whispering that it would be okay, that he loved her, when there was a sharp knock on the door. "Damn it," he said. "I hate room service."

He let her go, pressed a kiss to her forehead, dried his own face and opened the door. It wasn’t room service. It was security. The man, large and overbearing, looked past George at the mess that had been made. "Dr. O’Malley, is everything okay in here? We received complaints about the noise."

"It’s fine, Terrence." George addressed the man by name, having seen him daily for months. "We just - rough day."

"I’d like to see Dr. Torres if you don’t mind."

Callie stepped into view. She saw Terrence’s eyes widen a little when he saw the shape she was in and she forced herself to smile. It felt as unconvincing as it probably looked. "Everything’s okay. I’ll be hiring someone personally to clean up the mess and please give my apologies to Mr. Bishop for the disturbance. It won’t happen again."

Terrence looked back and forth between the two newlyweds. He finally saw how red Callie’s upper arms were and his eyes narrowed a little on George. "Would you like for me to find other accommodations for Dr. O’Malley?"

"Only if they were in Iceland." Callie’s smile was a little more convincing now. "Thank you, Terrence, but I’m fine, and I appreciate the concern."

The room service arrived in the hallway behind Terrence and he stepped into the room, letting the waitress wheel it in. The young girl stared at the mess with undeniable shock. Callie pulled several bills from her wallet and said, "Melissa, three hundred and fifty dollars says that you don’t mention this."

The waitress took the money, tucked it into her apron and said, "Mention what?"

"Melissa Anderson!" Terrence cried.

Melissa darted out of the room and Terrence looked back at Callie. "Dr. Torres, our staff prides itself on discretion. You didn’t have to do that. I’ll report her for-"

"Don’t you dare. She’s a single mother trying to support her family and she’s proud. If she thinks I bought her silence then it’s not a handout." Callie ran a hand through her hair and said, "Now, if you’ll excuse us, Terrence, we’d like to have our dinner in peace."

The security guard tipped his hat at her and glared at George. "Please make sure that’s exactly how you have it. In peace."

George closed the door behind the guard and turned to Callie. He was about to say something to her about how impressive she had been, but he finally noticed her arms himself and swore under his breath. She would have bruises. Reaching out, he lightly touched one of the marks and said, "I didn’t realize that I was holding you so tight."

"I recall mentioning it." She pushed the cart out of the way and bent to retrieve two bottles of water from the floor. She handed one to him and opened the other, taking a couple of sips. The aroma of the food was enticing and her stomach rumbled, causing her to sigh at its betrayal. "Let’s just eat and then I’m going to take a nap."

George looked at her and fought hard not to smile. Small victories were still victories, but to gloat would likely result in his head finding its way onto one of the silver platters the food had arrived on. He grabbed two chairs and set them on either side of the rolling cart and waited for her to sit down. He sat across from her and lifted the lid on her tray, then his own.

"I’ll clean up the mess, Callie. I’m sorry that I -" He gestured at the room. "You just scared me."

"Not talking about it."

"Okay."

Callie picked up her fork and pushed the roast beef around on her plate. It smelled like heaven, looked fit for a king, and yet the thought of taking a bite of it made her throat constrict. She rested her chin on her fist and sculpted her mashed potatoes into a mountain and then dropped several green peas on top of it and watched them roll off. She repeated it a few times and then put her fork down and picked up the roll, squeezing it into a round ball.

George cleared his throat. "Are you four?"

"Asks the toddler who pitched a tantrum and almost got his ass kicked by Big Bad Security Daddy for his troubles." Feeling like a petulant child, Callie dropped the roll on top of the potato mountain and sat back in her seat.

"Will you please eat something?"

Callie looked down at George’s plate, which was almost empty. It seemed wrong to her that he could eat when she couldn’t. That he would want to eat after what he had done. He just kept living, kept breathing. And she was stuck waiting for the drain that she was circling to finally pull her down with the dirty water he had bathed in. Mercifully, the alcohol that she had consumed started to do its job and her head swam a little when she stood and put the lid back over her food.

"Callie." George stood as well and caught her arm. "You’re going to die if you keep on like this."

"That night. How many times were you with her?"

"Don’t."

"Did you - were you careful? She could be-"

"She’s not. She’s on the pill and she’s had a cycle. I asked her. While you were gone."

"What if she had been? Pregnant. Would you still be here with me?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you ask her about it? No. Don’t answer that." Callie wrapped her arms around her belly, which had started to ache. "Wait, answer it. Why did you ask her? Were you hoping? Were you -"

"No," he cut her off. "I wasn’t hoping. I was desperate to make sure it wasn’t a possibility. And I don’t remember enough about that night to tell you what happened or how many times. It’s a blur. The only thing I remember with absolute certainty was waking up and worrying about whether or not I had called you."

"What happened when you remembered? What did you do?"

"Callie-"

"What did you do?"

"I confronted her and we agreed to never mention it, to pretend it didn’t happen. We agreed it was a mistake and I made it very clear that I wouldn’t hurt you. I made it very clear that I love you."

"She told Addison it was God’s plan. That it was right."

"It wasn’t. She knows that now."

Callie bit her bottom lip. "Is there anything else that you’re not telling me? Anything? Did you touch her at all when you were sober?"

The kiss in the elevator sprang into his mind and he pushed it back out, emphatically shaking his head. That kiss, more than anything else could, had convinced him once and for all that Izzie was his best friend, his sister, and nothing more. "No! No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t," he lied.

Callie sat down on the edge of the bed, then lay back, drawing her legs toward her chest in the hopes that it would settle her belly. "I’m tired."

"Can I - would it be okay if I -" He indicated the bed.

"Do what you want. Just stay on your side and keep your hands to yourself." She groaned, wrapping her arms around her middle. "My stomach is killing me."

George lay down, facing her. "It’s empty, Callie. And still raw from being pumped and you put more alcohol in it."

"Shut up."

Her eyes were clenched tight from the paid and George gazed at her. He hated himself. He hated himself more than she possibly could and he found some solace in that. "Are you telling the truth, Cal?"

"About what?"

"You keep saying that you didn’t try to kill yourself and everyone seems to believe you."

"Except you." She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Give me a reason to believe it."

She took a deep breath and said, "If I wanted to die I could have done it in North Carolina. The cabin was on top of a mountain and the road was dirt. It had been raining so the tires on the truck I rented kept spinning. I almost went over the side twice. It was a straight drop down into Lake Fontana and I could have lost control, but I didn’t."

"Did you drive while you were drinking?"

"I was unconscious after the drinking, George. Every single day."

"What about when you went and got the tattoo? Were you drinking then?"

"I got it a few miles from the airport the first day there. I had two glasses of wine on the flight, but I wasn’t drunk."

"Do you have a problem with alcohol?"

"No, I don’t," she replied sleepily. "I have a problem with the path my life has taken."

"Why do you keep doing this? Why? This isn’t you."

"It makes my soul be quiet. I just need it to be quiet for a while."

George watched as her eyes closed, as she tucked her hands under her cheek. After a few moments, her breathing evened out and he risked touching her. He brushed a lock of hair off her cheek and traced the curve of her brow. She was beautiful like this, her face relaxed, the tension gone. He had always thought she was gorgeous, but now he realized that she took his breath away. He grazed the freckles on her nose and knew that if never left the room again he would be content to look at her. He was seeing her so clearly and it felt like the first time he had laid his eyes on her at all.

A memory flashed through his mind then. His father had kept a trunk in the attic. It was beaten, battered, and the wood had buckled and splintered in several places. George’s brothers had laughed at it, claiming it was the ugliest thing they had ever seen, but it mesmerized George. He had fixed it up, refinished the inside, but left the outside the way it was and given it to his father for Christmas.

Harold had left that old trunk to George in his will and when George opened it, expecting it to be empty, he found a treasure inside. Everything that George had created at school, every time his name appeared in the paper, every report card ... was tucked inside in tissue paper. That should have taught George a lesson ... that sometimes the things that have rough edges and are not ‘classically pretty’ were usually the most valuable. Because they were filled with heart.

He had been an idiot and it had taken him almost losing her to make him realize what he had.

She sighed and he let his thumb trail over her plump, open lips. They were perfect lips. Angelina Jolie did not have the prettiest mouth, despite what people said. Callie did. When she smiled her lips looked like a heart and he wanted to see her smile again, to hear the throaty timbre of her voice when she laughed. Leaning forward, he kissed her softly, smelling the liquor on her breath. It had stunned him to see her drinking again and his face flushed as the anger he felt resurfaced.

He would get rid of the refrigerator. Or at the very least make it plain to the hospitality staff that no alcohol was to come into their room. She was relying on it to stop the pain and that’s how trouble started. Not that they weren’t already in more trouble than they could handle. He prayed that she was being honest about the suicide attempt, but his heart just wouldn’t let him surrender the overwhelming belief that she had wanted to die. He had certainly wanted to die after he found out about Mark Sloan trespassing on what was his.

Kissing her once again, he reached down and pulled a blanket over them. He made sure she was covered and lay back again, studying her features. He wanted her face, sweet and soothing, to be the last thing he saw before he drifted off. Mental and physical exhaustion had taken its toll on him and he was ready to crack down the middle, but sleep proved to be an unwilling partner.

For close to an hour, he lay motionless, listening to her breathing, watching her face. She rolled onto her back and he sat up a little, making sure she was okay. A moment later she rolled into his arms and put her head on his shoulder. It made him cry, it relieved him, it felt like a warm cocoon that he had no desire to fight his way out of. This ... this was coming home. He held her, clung to her, and relaxed.

Finally, he slept and for the first time since he had slept with Izzie ... his dreams were not nightmares. They were a welcome refuge where Callie laughed and danced and told him she loved him again and again.

CH 11
*~*~*~*~*~
There have been times that I thought I couldn't last for long

But now I think I'm able to carry on

It's been a long, a long time coming

But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will
-Sam Cooke
*~*~*~*~*~

Callie was dreaming about her Uncle Kakistos’s yacht. At forty two feet it was smooth and could launch itself across the water faster than a rocket. That’s why they had stolen it. Cam was mad that his uncle wouldn’t let him spend his allowance on a rocket kit and he had enlisted Callie’s help, who was mad on principle alone. Any time either twin was wronged, the wrong-doer felt the wraith of both children and that was all there was to it.

"Just do it already." Callie, who was ten again in her dream, looked at her brother. "I took the keys. You start the engine."

"What if we hit a whale?" Cam asked, his dark eyes wide. He pushed his black hair away from his face and gazed at her. "Or a shark. No, we’re goin' to get killed."

"Cammy, we’re already gettin' killed for ridin' our bikes across the interstate. At least this will be fun."

"I changed my mind. We need to go back home, Callie. What if we get caught?"

"Chicken."

"I am not a chicken!"

She flapped her arms and squawked at him.

Cambyses frowned and started the engine. He hit two of the surrounding boats while backing away from the dock. Someone shouted, someone ran toward them, but Callie hit the throttle and across the Atlantic Ocean they raced. They fought for ten minutes over who would drive and Callie finally gave up and went to the front of the yacht, her arms held wide, as wind caused her pigtails to stand on end. She laughed and laughed when the two red ribbons that were wrapped around the rubber bands flew off and hit Cam in the face. Miami grew smaller and smaller in the distance and then a school of dolphin held their attention for a few moments.

No one was ever sure why the fire started. Maybe it was because the kids had run the engine wide open and jumped waves like they were in an airplane. Either way, when the smoke began to bubble forth, they pointed at one another and simultaneously said, "You did it! I’m telling! You better not!"

Callie had been the calm one. She grabbed two life jackets and threw one at her brother, who was coughing and hacking. "Get out of the smoke, dummy. Stop, drop, and roll!"

"That’s if you’re on fire!" He waved his arms frantically as he tried to pull the lifejacket on. "We’re drowning!"

"We’re not in the water yet."

"I think I saw a shark!"

"Nuh uh," Callie told him. "We saw dolphins. Daddy said that when we see dolphins there are no sharks."

The flames had reached the deck and the bottoms of Callie’s bare feet were hot, too hot. The fire licked at her legs and she screamed. "Jump, Cam! Jump!"

"I’m scared!"

Callie pushed him into the water and leaped right behind him. He emerged a few feet away, crying now, sputtering and choking. She swam to him and looked back at the burning ship ... his jacket was stuck on the railing. "It’s okay," she said, kicking her feet hard enough to keep them both afloat while she took hold of his arms.

"I don’t swim like you!"

Reaching under the water, she unbuckled her life jacket and pushed it toward him. "Now you won’t have to, Cammy."

"No. I won’t wear it if you can’t."

"Then neither will I." She hooked one of her arms around the front panel of the vest and put his hand on it. The boat burned. Debris hit the water around them. "Just hold on. Hold onto it, Cam."

A dolphin emerged a few feet away, squealing and spyhopping. Something must have brushed Cam's leg because he screamed and went under. Callie swam beneath the water and pulled him back to the surface, pointing at the dolphins, trying to keep him calm. Her brother was sobbing, crying harder than she had ever seen him cry, and he shook hard enough that the water around them vibrated from it.

"Don’t leave me, Callie."

"I won’t."

"Promise me! Promise me!"

"I promise! I’m right here! Just hold on!"

"Sing to me. Sing something, Callie."

She sang ‘Over The Rainbow’. He stopped crying after a while.

And then she went under. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swim. There were sharks, there were stinging jellyfish, and as her lungs filled with water ... she gave in.

And she was glad when everything faded to black and she floated toward the bottom of the sea.

And then Cam was on the rescue boat, alone, and he was shaking.

He was shaking.

Shaking.

Shaking.

"Don’t leave. Callie, please don’t leave me!"

"I’m right here!" Callie repeated and sat bolt upright, gasping in air. It was a dream. It was a dream that she hadn’t had in years and an ending she had never experienced. She hadn’t drowned ... she had been the first one pulled, kicking and screaming when they wrenched her from Cam, onto the boat. She wiped the sweat off her brow and looked around. She was in her bed at the Archfield and the bed was ... shaking.

"Please, Callie. I’m sorry. Don’t go. Don’t do this," George cried, thrashing in his sleep. She looked at him and could see the moisture on his face in the soft glow of the setting sun. He was sweating, crying.

"I love you," he whined, his head moving back and forth. "Callie, I love you so much."

She leaned down and put her hand on his chest. His heart was thumping against her palm hard enough to break through his skin. "George, wake up," she said softly, then pushed his damp hair off his forehead.

"Come back."

Callie’s heart broke a little as she watched him. His face was contorted, his sobs were real, and he was pleading with her, even in slumber he was begging. She caught his arm as he reached out, grasping at something only he could see, and held his hand. Nuzzling the side of his cheek, she whispered in his ear. "I’m here, George. Wake up."

"Callie?" George blinked several times and looked up at her. "Oh my god. You - you weren’t breathing."

"You were dreaming."

"No - no, it happened. Derek turned the machine off and you stopped breathing. You were leaving me."

She had not really considered how stressful it must have been for her husband to make that decision, to watch her not respond. She looked away guiltily. Louise had obviously been correct about one thing ... she had hurt him. Bad.

He reached up and cupped her face, bringing her closer to him. "Breathe. I just want to feel you breathe. Please."

She exhaled against his neck and felt him start to cry again. He clung to her, voicing his fears, apologizing again and again. He promised her everything, even the moon, if she would just not leave him. If she would let him love her, let him make things right. She felt her resolve break when he told her that he’d die without her, that life wasn’t worth living unless it was with her.

And then she was kissing him and she really wasn’t breathing because he had that effect on her and she didn’t care. Her hands were in his hair, her leg was over his and he was clutching at every inch of her, touching her everywhere at once. It was tongues, teeth and tears. It was primal, hungry. She sat up on top of him and pulled her shirt off, flinging it across the room.

George pushed himself up, taking her dusky nipple into his mouth. With his free hand, he palmed the other one, tweaking, pinching. He felt her tug on his shirt and raised his arms, letting her wrench it over his head. And then she was kissing him again and George completely forgot the nightmare.

He was living a dream. A perfect, beautiful dream. He didn’t speak for fear of breaking whatever charm that made her forgive him, but his tears refused to stop flowing. His fingers grabbed at the band in her hair and pulled it free, letting her raven locks fall loose around her face. It tickled his shoulders and drove him insane. The smell of her, the taste, the feel of her warm flesh against his ... yes, it was a dream. It had to be a dream.

Callie’s brain was not in control. Her brain was trying to remind her that she was mad, that she was hurt, but her body shut it down and took charge. She had her pants off and was pushing his over his hips in seconds and then ... then she sank down onto him without preamble and closed her eyes. She felt his fingertips digging into the flesh and rocked forward, pushing him deeper still. "George-"

He thrust his hips, holding her tight against him. She moved her hips in a slow, gratifying circle and his toes curled. "Oh god, baby. Do it again."

She did and he had to wage a war with himself to keep from coming right then. He watched her as she tossed her head back and he reached up, trailing his fingertips between the valley of her breasts, then lower over her stomach. He knew in that moment that he could be drunk enough to die and still remember every last second of what she looked like, how she felt. She jerked against him when he dipped lower still and pressed his thumb against her sensitive core.

She mumbled something that sounded very much like a death threat and he increased the pressure, watching her face. He made her come twice, back to back, and felt her walls clenching at him. Sitting up, he whispered, "Get on your knees."

She did as he requested and he moved behind her. When he slammed into her, she gripped the comforter and cried out and the sound of it almost forced George over the edge. Almost. He stared down at her back, at the tattoo, at the way the ink seemed to undulate as she pumped her hips. It was the most beautiful and *dirty* thing he’d ever seen. Reaching up, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled lightly. She pushed upward and he latched onto the back of her neck with his mouth, sucking at her tender flesh, marking her, branding her.

She came again and screamed her release. A moment later, George was slumped over her, breathing hard and she sank, boneless, to the bed. He followed, still inside her, and lay against her back, his cheek in her hair.

As soon as her body stopped trembling, reality sank in and then the self loathing started. She pressed her face against the cover and shifted slightly, making it clear that she wanted him off her. He kissed her neck and slipped to her side, his hand on the small of her back. "Leave, George," she finally said.

"What?"

"Get out."

"No." George pushed her hair to one side and said, "Talk to me."

"I won’t do it," she said, her face still against the comforter. "I won’t!"

"You won’t do what?"

She lifted her head and glared at him. "I won’t forgive you for what you did. I won’t forget it. I won’t trust you again. I won’t believe you when you say that it didn’t mean anything and I’ll never, *ever* let my guard down around you again." Her chin trembled and she sobbed loudly. "But I won’t give up on us either. Because I can’t. And I hate you for that. I hate you for what you’ve made me become."

George leaned forward and kissed her. "You don’t hate me."

"Then why am I picturing your insides on the outside?"

"Because you’re a doctor and that’s foreplay, sweetie."

"Ooooh!" she growled and got to her feet. "Don’t try to be cute!"

"Come back to bed." He reached for her, but she pushed him away.

He watched as she stalked across the room and disappeared into the bathroom. George rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "I won’t give up either, by the way," he promised loudly. "And you’ll see that this is the right thing."

"Stop talking to me."

"I love you. You’re incredible and very bendy. Beautiful. And forgiving."

"Stop talking to me!"

"And the tattoo? Best thing ever. I like you on top, but looking down at that ... damn."

She closed the door and he grinned.

If he wasn’t mistaken he was coming very close to winning the war.

XXX
Three thousand miles away, Cambyses awoke in a cold sweat. He stared at the clock, then at Blake, who sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Something’s wrong with Callie. Get up. Get dressed."

"What? Honey, it’s late and we have meetings tomorrow."

"I’ll pack. You call the airport." Cam pushed the cover away and stood. "Get us on the first flight to Seattle, Blake."

"Just call her, Cam."

"No." Cambyses shook his head. "I don’t have to call her. I know."

"How do you-"

"You remember the story about how we stole my uncle’s boat? Callie saved my life that day. I haven’t dreamed about it in years and tonight ... tonight she was drowning." Cam’s voice was soft. When he looked back at his lover, his eyes were filled with tears. "She’s drowning and she’s not even trying to swim."

*~*~*~*~*~

George cleaned the bedroom, a smile on his face the entire time. He put the fridge back on the counter, picked up the broken pieces of the bottle, and jammed Callie’s clothing back into the bureau. The carpet was stained red from the wine and the wall was spattered, looking like a toddler’s finger painting. He picked up a tall artificial palm tree and placed it in front of the worst of the mess. It worked on the visuals, but the scent of the wine was all over the place. He would call Jerry and ask him to bring his steam cleaner. Callie would not be hiring anyone to clean up after him.

She splashed in the bathtub and George glanced at the door, his smile slowly fading. She had been bathing for over an hour. A steady cloud of steam had been coming out from under the door and he knew that she was scalding herself. That was not unusual, she liked to boil in the tub, but he didn’t like it all the same. She was trying to wash away what they had done, what they had shared. It was a slap in the face that he didn’t need. She apparently felt dirty while he felt elated.

"Cal?" He rapped on the door twice. "I’m going to order dinner before they stop serving. What do you want?"

Her response was colorful and filled with suggestions on what he could do with himself for dinner. His personal favorite was her ribald demand that he stuff the phone up his ass until he choked on it, but the delivery wasn’t quite as convincing at her threat to drown him in the hot tub if he didn’t stop trying to talk to her. "Steak it is," he called out, ignoring her tirade. "Medium rare, right?"

There was more splashing and then she flung the door open and stared out at him. Bubbles clung to her skin, which was as red as a lobster. Her nostrils flared when she saw him looking her up and down. "Don’t look at me like that! Don’t talk to me! And don’t try to feed me because I am not hungry."

Her stomach grumbled and he nodded. "Riiiight. Do you want a baked potato or fries?"

"You never listen to me." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Never. You act like I’m the mom on Charlie Brown and all you ever hear is -"

"Wah wah wah," he finished for her, moving his hand to imitate speak. "How about dessert? You know that the brownie thing makes you insane."

"You make me insane."

"I could. If you’d come back in here."

She slammed the door in his face and he started to turn away, but she opened it again and emerged, wearing her robe. "I figured it out," she said. "I was half asleep. I didn’t know what I was doing."

"Mmm." He nodded. "I thought you might have been what with all the screaming and the orgasms, but I wasn’t sure."
She stopped pacing the room and looked around. "You cleaned up."

"Well, yeah."

"I was going to call someone."

"Why?"

"Because it’s what you do. You pay for someone to fix it."

"I take care of my own messes."

"That’s why you’re hanging around, isn’t it? I’m the mess you made."

"I’m hanging around you because I love you." He reached for the phone, but she stopped him. "What’s wrong? Callie?"

"I’m sorry I didn’t breathe."

"What?"

"When Derek unplugged the machine. And I’m sorry that you had to see it."

He hugged her then. He couldn’t help it and she didn’t pull away. "I love you," he said softly. "And I’m so grateful that you’re taking this chance on me. Thank you."

"George, I -" A knock interrupted her reply and she let her head fall back. "Perfect timing as usual, Mom!"

"Calliope?" Melana called.

"Okay, how did you know that was her?"

"Disturbance in the force? My evil detector?" Callie tightened her robe and opened the door, gazing out at her mother. "What?"

"It took some doing on my part, but your father has agreed to dinner. Nothing fancy, just across the street at the Mexican place. Bring Cheater if you must, but try to wear something decent. You’re going to give Raph a heart attack if you look like a prostitute again." Melana glanced at George. "I took the liberty of inviting your mother. Perhaps she’ll give into her carnal instincts and eat her young."

"Jesus Christ," Callie said as Melana turned on her heel and headed toward the elevator. She shut the door and looked at her husband. "Okay, you get that it’s us against them, right?"

"Fine with me."

"Famous last words?"

"You’ll see. It’s going to be just fine."

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thirty minutes later, they were ready to go.

"Stop fidgeting. You look beautiful."

Callie put her hand down and took a deep breath as they waited to cross the road. La Rodeo was a hole in the wall that was tackier than anything else in Seattle. It usually amused her when she dined there, but her parents were inside this time. Waiting. With Louise. Smoothing her hand over the navy blue dress she wore, she glanced at the traffic. "If I got hit by a car ... that would distract them."

"If you get hit by a car I’m kicking your ass." He reached down and protectively took her hand, locking her fingers between his. "And tomorrow, first thing in the morning, you’re going to the Psych consult. I mean it."

"I need it after what we did."

"We’re married. We’re back together. I love you and I know you’re not saying it right now, but you love me, too, and everything is going to perfect."

"Oh my god. Is that your mother’s car?"

"My mother adores you. I’m the one who has to face *two* parents who despise me. So focus."

They crossed the street. George willingly, Callie unwillingly. George finally had to get behind her and push, which caused someone to honk their horn since Callie was moving like a geriatric with two broken hips. She flipped off the driver and drew up short when she saw that Louise and both her parents were standing a few feet away and had seen her. "Awww, fuck."

"We heard that," Melana said, beckoning her daughter forward. "I was just telling Louise about your new tattoo. Perhaps you’d like to hike your skirt up and show her since you had no trouble stripping off and letting someone put it there to begin with."

"Maybe later." Callie shrugged, then smiled at her mother-in-law. "Hey, Louise."

"Hi, honey. A tattoo, huh? Goodness, most people rebel before their marriage and not after." She looked at her son. "That goes for you, too, Buster. Less than three months and you’ve already cheated."

"Greeeeat." George looked at Callie. "It’s three against one. My mother has joined *their* team."

Callie was watching her father. He was looking everywhere except her and she hated it. "Let’s just go inside and do this."

They were seated at a round booth with two exits. Callie tried to linger, tried to wind up on the end, but it didn’t work out. She found herself right in the middle after Louise gripped her arm and pushed her forward. Louise and Raphael won the coveted spots and Callie had her mother on one side and George on her other. She started to smother right away, claustrophobia closing the walls around her.

The waiter asked for their drink orders. Callie went last and said, "Gin and tonic. Double. More gin than tonic."

"NO!!" All four of her companions roared as one, causing both the waiter and Callie to jump out of their skin.

"She’ll take a water," George amended, then reached under the table and squeezed her leg. "It’s okay."

"It is most assuredly not okay," Raphael finally spoke when the waiter walked away, clutching his chest. "Calliope, look at me."

Callie complied, but didn’t speak. Her father leaned forward and said, "What are you thinking? Do you not see us sitting here? Do you not understand why we crossed the country in the middle of the night to be with you? You would dare order more alcohol after what you did last night?"

She swallowed hard, but remained quiet. Raphael hit the table, hard, and said, "Answer me!"

"And state the obvious? You already know the answers." Callie was angry now and she was brazen in her words. "The last one was pretty obvious, wasn’t it? Yes, apparently I would dare order more alcohol. I did, didn’t I?"

Her defiance unnerved him and Raphael pointed a finger at her. "Do *not* get smart with me. We didn’t raise you to behave so disrespectfully. You are shaming your mother, shaming me, and shaming yourself."

"Raphael, people are starting to stare." Melana laid her hand on top of his and looked at her daughter. "I noticed the smell of alcohol when you opened the door to your room earlier. Did you drink today, mi vida?"

The Spanish endearment got to Callie, especially considering that her mother had not used the term in years. "I had four shots."

"I can’t do this, Melana." Raphael stood and glared down at his wife. "She has no value for anything or anyone. She’s morphed into Sybil. An alcoholic Sybil."

"Sit down, Raph." When he didn’t comply, Melana reached up, grabbed his tie, and pulled him. "Thank you," she said, when he fell against the booth. To Callie, she said, "Explain yourself."

The waiter reappeared with their drinks and Callie could have hugged him for arriving when he did. She listened as he took their dinner orders and shook her head when it was her turn. "I’m not hungry. I’m good."

Raphael cleared his throat. Callie closed her eyes. Finally, she said, "Fine. Taco salad."

When the waiter walked away, she leaned back and looked at Louise. The woman smiled at her and she figured that she was the lesser of the evils and changed the subject. "Did Jerry find the new engine for his car? I gave him the number of a friend of mine who lives near you. He’s got a salvage yard and should be able to get him something that’s reasonable with low mileage."

"Oh, his name is Mack, right?" Louise asked. "He’s been around for dinner a few times. I didn’t know you had introduced them! He’s taking Jerry and Ronnie mountain climbing. He seems nice, but he’s very dirty. And old."

"Yeah. He never got the memo that cleanliness is next to Godliness, but he’s in grease all day, too," Callie replied. "He’s a good climber, though. They’ll have a good time. Are they camping out?"

"I don’t know." Louise folded her hands on the table. "Should they not?"

"If they’re going to then he’s the man to camp with. I always tell him he was born two hundred years too late because he’s got the whole frontier thing down to a science."

"Well, that’s a comfort." Louise smiled innocently. "Now, are we finished ignoring the big pink elephant in the room? Because your parents had something to say to you."

Melana put her hand on Callie’s arm. "Honey, we were wondering if maybe you should think about rehab. There are very nice upscale places that have spas and outdoor activities that you like. You can detox from alcohol in less than a month and-"

"I do not need rehab!" Callie’s mouth dropped open in shock. "Is that what you’re trying to do? Is that why we’re here?"

"What you did? That was a cry for help and we’re listening." Louise looked at George, who was staring at his hands. "George, tell her."

Callie turned in her seat, glaring at her husband. "You knew about this. Tell me that you - George?"

He shook his head. "I didn’t know that this is why they wanted us here, but - but I knew that it was something they were considering. And I think maybe you should have an open mind about it because -"

"I’m leaving." Callie scooted closer to George. "Move."

Louise held her spot on the end, not letting George gain an inch. Callie attempted to stare the woman down, but found herself backing away slightly when Louise pulled off a look that made Bailey appear cherubic. It was Raphael who broke the uncomfortable silence. "Callie? It’s not the end of the world if you admit that you have a problem, but it is the end if you don’t. This is your life we’re talking about."

"I don’t have a problem, Daddy! Do you know what rehab, even unnecessary rehab, would do to my career? I’m a doctor! I prescribe narcotics! If this went on my record then it could affect every job I may ever have! For nothing. I’m fine."

"Mija, people who are fine do not behave this way," he replied as calmly as possible. "You can’t say that it was a mistake. It’s not normal."

"Dad." Callie put her head in her hands and exhaled. "I have never been normal. It took me thirty years to fall in love for the first time and I don’t know how to do it yet! I’ve never felt this way before and it’s overwhelming and horrible. I hate it and because I hate it ... I am bound to make mistakes. And that’s all it was. I’m not lying. I’m not trying to kill myself with alcohol. Or at all. I just - I stopped thinking clearly for a moment and lost control. It’s not happening again."

"You weren’t out of the hospital long before you had four more shots. You admitted it," Mel said.

"And admitting it proves that I’m not trying to hide it, Mami. Ay Dios Mio! No estoy loca! No estoy enferma! No lo necesito!" Callie snapped. "I will *not* go."

"Cal?" George reached for her hand, but she pushed him away. "Callie, do not take this out on me. You have punished me for weeks and that’s fine because I earned it, but *this* ... I can’t take the blame for this. The first thing you said when you woke up in that hospital bed was that you were DNR. You looked Derek in the face and said ‘You were not supposed to save me’. Now, call me crazy, but that sounds like a plan."

"I was upset about the breathing tube."

The food arrived, but no one lifted their fork. Callie waited until the waiter filled a couple of glasses before she spoke again. "I’ve always tried to do the right thing. Always. I went to medical school, Dad, because you asked me to. Mom, I sang at every talent show and spent my summers at workshops, because you asked me to. Louise, I told you the truth in the hospital about Harold when no one else would, because you asked me to. And George, I gave in and we’re working on our marriage, because you asked me to. And now I’m asking you, all of you, to just let me breathe. Let me breathe. Because I stopped for a while and if you let me do it on my own ... then maybe I can remember why I should."

George brushed her hair back and kissed her temple. "Let’s make a deal, okay?"

She was weary now, emotionally exhausted. "What kind of deal?"

He unwrapped her fork and handed it to her. "You eat something and we don’t talk about anything that you don’t want to."

"George-"

"You want us to let you breathe, but you can’t really do that if you starve to death." He pushed her taco salad closer. "So, mountain climbing? How did I not know this?"

"You ever been?" Callie asked and her eyes widened when he shook his head. "How do you live so close to Mount Rainier all your life and never go?"

"I don’t like falling to my death?" He picked up his own fork and took a bite of his rice. "It’s good. Go on and try yours. If you don’t then I’m going to ask you about why you had DNR paperwork to begin with."

Callie grimaced and broke the shell on her salad, putting a small piece in her mouth. "You don’t fall to your death if you climb right. It’s the biggest adrenaline rush you’ll ever feel."

Melana glanced at Louise and smiled and the blond winked at her when Callie broke off another piece of her shell and explained that she had been climbing since birth. She had them all in stitches a while later, recounting a particularly harrowing experience on Mount Everest with her brother Loukas, who decided it was a great way to overcome his fear of heights. Melana and Rafael eventually chimed in, embarrassing Callie with a few childhood tales and by the time it was over, half of Callie’s salad was gone and George looked impressed with himself.

Raphael paid, left a tip, and watched as Callie counted it, then pulled several bills from her purse and laid them on the table. Clearly she still didn’t approve of his tipping habits. He smiled a little and stood, helping Melana from her seat. Callie slid out behind her mother and he caught her around the waist, hugging her to him. "You’re very generous with your money, mija."

"Because you’re not," she replied, leaning her head against him. "And waiters work hard, Daddy. I see them all the time for heel spurs and shin splints."

"You’re a good girl." He stroked the back of her hair and added, "I love you, kitten. I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. I’m not mad. I’m just scared for you."

"You don’t have to be." Callie leaned back so she could look at him. "George is even more overprotective than you are and he won’t go away."

"I noticed. And good for George." Raph kissed her on the forehead. "You said that you’re going to try to make your marriage work. Do you still want to have this party?"

Callie looked at George, then at Louise and Melana, who were standing side by side. They looked hopeful. The last thing she wanted was the stress of a party, but she nodded anyway. "Yeah. We should - you know, introduce our families. And I really want to see Cam."

"Your father and I have decided to remain here until after the party," Melana told her. "It’s easier to finish the plans if we’re here and it will give Louise and I a chance to shop together."

"Plus you want to spy on me. I get it."

Louise spoke before Melana could. "We’re not spying, sweetheart. We just want you kids to know that we’re here. For anything. We want to help you."

Callie stepped away from her dad and let her mother-in-law hug her. "I know."

When she turned to tell her parents goodnight, her father was shaking George’s hand and then Melana kissed him on both cheeks and gave him a dazzling smile. It was at that point that Callie knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had been played. Quite well.

But she really didn’t mind very much.

When George took her hand and kissed it, she knew she didn’t mind at all.

Maybe there was something to be said for forgiveness.

It made her soul quiet. Without the alcohol.

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 12
*~*~*~*~*~

The concierge service called Callie the next morning at six thirty a.m.. She had nowhere to be so early, but she wanted a fresh start. George lifted his head briefly, planted a kiss on her shoulder, and burrowed under the cover. She watched him for ten minutes, recalling his valiant attempts at seduction the night before. He had tried, she would give him that much. Feeling a little stung by his new found confidence and posturing, however, she had rebuffed him, albeit gently, and feigned yawning with such conviction that she fell asleep first. She dreamed about that delicious crab dinner with Alex and decided to ask him to go again because a stress free meal was pretty much a given with him. And she needed no stress. She needed the easy laughs and corny jokes. He *got* her. And she got him which was a nice change.

She slipped from the bed, grabbed her bathing suit and after forty minutes of non-stop swimming in the pool, she pulled off her water cap, stretched her energized muscles, and sat down at the nearby tiki bar. It took a few minutes for her to realize that it wasn’t open, that the sun was barely up, but she eyed the bottles that had been locked neatly behind a glass case with longing. ‘Rehab’, she reminded herself as her mouth watered. ‘You will so wind up in rehab if you don’t get a grip.’

Standing, she pushed the chair back in place and a startling thought flashed in her mind. She could only be with George when the alcohol had numbed enough of the memory. That’s why she hadn’t been able to sleep with him again the previous night. She was sober. Too sober. And the calm she had felt after dinner, while she had relished the soul deep quiet after her father had forgiven her ... it didn’t last nearly as long as a good buzz. And when George had tried to have sex with her ... she had wondered if he had thrown away all the liquor. She had almost leapt from the bed to find out.

‘Stop this.’ She thought and headed back into the Archfield. ‘This is what alcoholics do.’

‘No,’ another voice reminded her. ‘This is what people who are unhappy do.’

By eight a.m., she had treated herself to a clinging, cleavage baring, Diane vonFurstenberg wrap dress in a size eight, thank you very much. The chocolate brown fabric hugged her body and she turned from side to side, loving what she saw. The only curves she had were in the right place and she was proud of them. She had not eaten for days after George said that to her ... no, that was a lie. She hadn’t really eaten for almost three months now. For him. To make herself worthy enough.

She purchased her dress and drew up short. She needed to spend more money. That always helped and that would chase away her demons. After falling into deep lust with a pair of Prada heels that refused to come back off her feet and splurging on a three thousand dollar Fendi purse, brown lingerie, and two carat diamond earrings, Callie nodded and headed into the salon.

While she sat in the make-up chair, she scheduled her appointment with Psych for eleven a.m., then left Alex a message telling him to clear his schedule for dinner. When Callie emerged at nine forty-five, her hair parted deeply on the side with long, loose spiral curls brushing her waist, she spotted George and her parents a few feet away, discussing something that was undoubtedly in her ‘best interest’. Seeing them together should have made her happy, but it didn’t. It felt hollow, like her parents had accepted less than the best for her.

She drew up short, wondering where that thought had come from. When Melana laughed at something George had said and leaned closer to him, she saw herself in her mother and cocked her head to one side, studying them. It was --- a strange match and she felt like she was staring at what her future would look like. Square people while her world was round. ‘Stop that,’ she thought. ‘You wanted them to accept him. You knew that they would. This is what you get."

She lifted her chin, rustled the shopping bag that contained her slightly damp bathing suit and old purse, and listened to her heels click against the polished marble as she walked toward them.

"Oh my god," George’s breath was ragged as she approached. She was *beautiful*. He forgot the fact that he had woken up alone, angry that she had not left a note, and let his eyes stretch over the length of her. The tight dress she wore stopped just below the knee and the high heels did things to her calves that he had never seen done to *any* woman’s legs. Her waist looked tiny, was tiny, but her hips ... god, her hips were the kind that demanded to be gripped, demanded to provide a comfortable rest for his hand when it was around her body.

"Hey," she said, nodding at her parents as she adjusted the strap on her new oversized brown bag. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for you." Melana’s gaze lingering for a moment over her daughter’s smoky well made eyes, over her perfectly lined rosy lips. "And what a look it is, honey. Wow."

"You’re very thin, Calliope," Raphael said, reaching out to touch her hair. "But you’re also stunning."

"Anybody can be stunning with enough money, Daddy." She tilted her head to accept the kiss he brushed against her temple and looked at George. "I should go. I have to meet with Gellar at eleven."

George blinked several times and nodded mutely. In her heels, she was several inches taller than him and he felt like he was gazing up at a reincarnation of Venus. He watched as she handed her parents her shopping bag, asking if they would hang onto it, and then she strode from the lobby and he had to jog to catch up. "Callie, wait."

She slowed down and looked at him. "What?"

"You, uh, you can’t expect me to move very fast when I see you like this unless I’m moving very fast to, you know, take it off." He reached down at took her hand, but hers remained limp in his. "Are we okay?"

"We’re fine, George." As soon as she said the words, the devil that sat on her shoulder lately hissed that she was lying, that she was being a ‘yes, girl’, that she was fooling herself if she believed that he would be trustworthy. She pushed the voice away by saying, "Gellar’s the lesser of the evils in Psych and he likes me. I fixed his tennis elbow last year."

"Callie, anyone who sees you is going to fall in love with you." He squeezed her hand, hoping she would return the favor, but she didn’t. "You seem a little distant. Did I - is this about dinner? Because I sorta knew what was coming? I - I talked to you mom while you were in the bathtub last night, okay? She mentioned that an intervention would be smart and I went along with it because I don’t want them to be down on me any more."

They paused at the crosswalk and Callie gazed at the imposing form of the hospital in the distance. "You went along with it because you agree. It would help if you tried to believe me, George. I didn’t - I didn’t want to die and if you could trust me-"

"Trust is a two way street." George gave into temptation and rested his hand on her hip. He almost swallowed his tongue when he felt the lines of what *had* to be a spaghetti strap thong underneath. "It really hurt last night when you said that you would never trust me again."

"Well, it really hurt to trust you at all. Shame on you if you fool me once and all that."

"You have to have trust in a relationship."

"Do you believe me then? Do you think I’m gonna pass this evaluation and be fine?"

"I think that you’re going to do the best you can."

The light changed and a couple of utility workers catcalled as Callie crossed in front of their truck. One of them yelled, "Lucky little fucker."

"I know, right?" George called over his shoulder and looked back at Callie, who was frowning. It completely changed her face and he pulled her a little closer. "Okay, fine. If you say that you didn’t mean it. You didn’t mean it."

"Nice try." Callie sighed and stepped up onto the curb, not breaking her stride. "This is the part where you want me to tell you that I believe you when you say that it was just a mistake, right?"

"It would be nice."

They stopped at the second cross walk and she looked down at him. "It helps deal with it to know that you were drunk, to know that you didn’t go there with a clear head. That’s the best I can do."

George’s own personal Devil chuckled a little, reminding him of the elevator lip lock he had shared with Izzie. He had groped her breast that day. He resolutely pushed away the urge to come clean and stood on his toes to kiss her. "If that's the best you can do then it's enough."

They walked the rest of the way in silence and when they crossed the parking lot of the hospital, Meredith and Izzie were climbing out of Meredith’s car. George attempted to go at least fifty feet out of the way, but Callie plowed straight ahead and addressed Meredith. "Hey."

Meredith’s eyes widened and she said, "Hey right back. You look amazing. I didn’t look like that after I almost died."

Callie smiled a little and glanced at Izzie, whose mouth was slightly ajar. "I wanted to say thank you, to -uh- both of you, for what you did the other night. You saved my life and I appreciate it."

Meredith reached out at took her hand. "That’s what we do and you’re very welcome."

Callie squeezed her hand, then nodded at Izzie, who had not spoken at all. "Well, have a good day."

Meredith watched her walk off, saw the scathing look that George shot Izzie and said, "That took guts." She glanced at the blond. "Speaking of guts, where are yours? That was the perfect chance for you to take the same high road she did and you didn’t say a thing."

"I - I couldn’t," Izzie replied, adjusting her jacket as she watched Callie and George disappear into the hospital. "When did Callie get so ..."

"Hot?"

"Well, yeah."

Meredith put her arm around the taller woman's waist and sighed, "Oh, Izzie. I love you dearly, but you are a very blind girl where the dirty hot ortho chick is concerned."

"Clearly."

*~*~*~*~*~

Addison was redoing a chart for the third time because she couldn’t stop thinking about batteries. She cursed Mark Sloan, who walked past her and made a buzzing sound. She was glaring after him when she saw Callie. She forgot about the work and the batteries and met Callie halfway down the hall, hugging her tight. "I called you last night, but you didn’t answer. Apparently you were guesting on ‘Extreme Makeover’ and failed to invite me to the big reveal."

"Dinner. With my parents."

Addison pulled back. "Ooooh, scary."

"It really was, but then it wasn’t. And you need to buy a pretty dress because we’re having an elopement party and you get all the maid of honor perks without the actual duties."

Addison beamed at her, then faltered a little when she realized that Callie wasn’t smiling. "I can do that. Wanna shop with me? Clearly you know how and - oh my god, is that the new Fendi line? Can I just hold it?"

"Retail therapy." Callie handed the purse over and watched Addison fawn over it. "I’ve decided to go ahead and embrace the money again."

"Apparently." Addison handed her the purse back and added, "Red. You should wear red to the party."

"Red’s good," George said, nodding lasciviously as he eyed his wife’s backside. "I like red. And brown is really, really great today, too."

"You like anything," Callie told him. "Because you’re on your best behavior."

Alex stepped out of a nearby trauma room and pulled his gloves off. He chucked them into the wastebasket and turned, drawing up short when he saw her. He blinked slowly, licking his lips as he looked her up and down. "Jesus fucking Christ, Callie. You’re why cavemen chiseled on walls."

"Ooh, impressive, Alex. You just quoted one of the best movies of all time," Callie replied and grinned ear to ear. As amusing as everyone’s reaction to the cleaned up Callie was, his meant the most. "That would be ‘As Good As It Gets’. And I have to reply by saying that ‘you overwhelm me’, also from the same film."

"It’s amazing." He said, purposely looking at her like a lovesick puppy. "You look like you do and yet you get the one liners every single time. That makes you a rare and special breed, Elvira."

"No, that makes me a film geek who apparently has too much time on her hands."

"Come here, you." Alex hugged her, kissing the side of her face. In her heels, she was eye level with him and as he pulled her against him, he thought fleetingly that she fit perfectly in his arms. And she smelled - no, not good thoughts to be having about someone who was glowing for reasons that were very apparent. "How are you? What are you doing? Have you had breakfast? Should you be here?"

"Good. Nothing much. No breakfast. And no, I should not be here," she replied, rattling off the answers to his questions as she took a step back. "But my Psych thing is in about forty minutes and I’m trying to be calm. The hospital calms me."

Alex smirked at her. "Shattered bones calm you, Gothika. Wanna see a kickass X-ray that you are so missing out on by shirking your duties."

"I do not shirk, Jock Boy. This is all Webber." She gripped his ear and tugged him down the hall. "Show me carnage! We’ll be back, guys."

Addison watched as Alex put his arm around Callie’s shoulder, talking a mile of minute into her ear. "Oookay."

"He’s proving a point." George leaned against the nurse’s station. "He’s there to latch onto her if I’m not careful. I so don’t care because he’s full of crap."

Addy watched the duo disappear around the corner. She had definitely *not* missed the look on Alex’s face. Or the first genuine smile on Callie’s in days. "You’re not worried?"

"I am *so* not worried. We are officially married and life is good."

"She wasn’t wearing her ring."

"Give me time."

"You sound confident."

"I’m convinced."

"Be careful, George. Don’t make my mistakes. Don’t get cocky."

He simply smiled at her.

*~*~*~*~*~

Alex pinned the first X-ray and Callie groaned, practically salivating over the shattered hand. She traced a particularly nasty break with her finger and pouted. "It’s sick the way you know me. I should be scrubbing in on this! Why are you not scrubbing in on this?"

"Because Bailey decided that I’m on pit. Because of you."

"Me?"

"I think the rumor got to her that we were having sex."

"Ooooh, did we like it?"

"Absolutely. The rumor mill says that it was very acrobatic. That was my own personal contribution and I’ll be signing autographs after work. Thank you. Thank you very much." Alex pinned another film that showed a different angle and watched her mouth drop into a perfect ‘o’ and she moaned. "It’s like porn for you, isn’t it, Torres?"

"It so freakin’ is. I told you that bones are the bomb."

He watched as she licked her lips and found himself mimicking her actions. "You had sex with him, didn’t you?"

"Ugh. I had something with him. To quote a very wise and wonderful person ... it was a hailstorm of misery and self loathing." Callie bit her bottom lip and then hopped up onto the window seat. "Am I a fool? To do this thing with him? I mean, he knows that she’s in love with him. Whatever that even means anymore. I hate love."

"I had a talk with Izzie," Alex jumped up beside her. He pulled a Twix out of the front pocket of his scrub shirt, opened it, and handed her one of the bars. "She told me that she only thought that she was in love with him because she hates one night stands. And she said that he was ‘safe’ and she needed ‘safe’ after Denny. She’s hung up on a corpse, dude, and while O’Malley isn’t much better than a dead man ... she’s still into Duquette."

Callie chewed the candy thoughtfully. She finished it off before she replied. "She’s probably just trying to save face. She sees that he’s staying with me and she’s trying to act like it’s fine. That’s what I would do, too."

"I don’t think she’s doing that and you know I’d tell you if I did." He leaned into her, brushing her shoulder with his while he licked the chocolate off his fingers. "Are you happy? Is he - you know, taking care of you?"

"In his very own special George way he is trying. He’s definitely trying."

"Are you happy?" he repeated.

"I think I could be. Like, eventually."

"Like, when?"

"When I can trust him again. Which is --- never. It’s a horrible feeling to know that a supermodel wants your husband. It’s even worse to know that he went there and is probably comparing us every time he touches me."

"Any man who touches you would be rendered incapable of cognitive thought. It - it happened to me earlier so I’m speaking from experience."

Callie rolled her eyes a little. "You get points for trying, Alex, but Izzie Stevens is that centerfold who captivates anyone with a ‘y’ chromosome and I’m that girl who knows the movie quotes. George isn’t into movie quotes."

"George O’Malley is a blooming idiot and I don’t fault you for not seeing it because love makes people blind, but if you don’t stop letting him make you feel inferior then I’m going to kill him and kick you." Alex shook his head. "And you’re not just the girl who knows the movie quotes. You’re rapidly making me forget that there are any other women on the face of the planet and you’re not even trying."

Callie looked shocked, but she quickly recovered. They flirted. It’s what they did. It was harmless and in good fun. She cleared her throat and said, "So, she said that it was a mistake? Izzie, I mean. She’s over the whole love thing?"

"Yep." Alex noticed a spot of chocolate on Callie’s lip. He wiped it away and absently licked it from his thumb. "If your husband had not kissed her in the elevator after all was said and done then I don’t think she would have clung to the blind hope for as long as she did."

Callie sat up a little straighter. "Wait. What?"

Alex was looking at his thumb, some of her lipstick was on it. "Huh?"

"Kissing in the elevator?"

"Right. She said that he kissed her in the elevator. I guess it was a few days after the debauchery and it made her believe that it wasn’t just a drunken thing. I mean, you can kinda see why." When she didn’t reply, he glanced at her. Her face was devoid of color except for the make-up and there was sweat beading on her forehead. "Holy shit, Callie!"

"Take me home, Alex."

"But -"

"Please?"

"But you’re supposed to -" He trailed off when her eyes filled with tears. It shocked him, what it did to his insides when he realized that her eyes were flecked with varying shades of brown. Some of them matched the dress. Some of them matched the freckles on her nose, some were golden, too... or maybe it was her tears reflecting the light of the X-ray panel. Whatever it was it took his breath. He was not prepared for the jarring in his heart, then. It jarred him so hard that it shook his foundation. And he was still reeling when comprehension dawned on him. She had not known about the kiss and she was going to lose control. "We’ll go down the back elevator, Cal. Come on."

He hopped down and held his hand out. When she didn’t take it, he impulsively hugged her, standing between her knees. He was struck, again, by the realization that she fit, that she felt good there, and he didn’t know where it came from or why he was thinking it all of the sudden. She looked different, prettier than ever before, but she was still the same goofy girl who got his humor and popped it right back in the exact same ways. Something was there, though, hanging in the air and it was heavy on his back. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I swear to God, I didn’t. I never would."

"You didn’t know." She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight, burying her face against his neck. "Oh wow, this is what the camel’s back breaking feels like. I deserve this for giving in. I deserve it for being weak. This is karma reminding me that I am not a doormat and that I *knew*. To quote your favorite movie: ‘We are men of action. Lies do not become us.’ And I’m living a lie, Alex."

"You are definitely not a man, though. And if we’re gonna quote it wrong, then I’m saying this," he replied, holding her closer still. "George is an R.O.U.S. and don’t you dare cry over him."

"A rodent of unusual size?"

"Don’t you agree?"

He felt her nod and when she pulled back, he wiped the tears off her face and looked at her. She really was beautiful and it was his fault that her heart was breaking. It was his fault that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. It was *not* his fault that his body suddenly reacted to her every movement, however. He touched her hair and knew that he’d die if he didn’t heed the primordial call that had been in the back of his mind since he had wrenched her off the pavement of the Archfield and broke the sound barrier rushing her to safety. He traced her full lower lip with his thumb and said, "I actually have another quote from the ‘Princess Bride’. And I have to say it. Right now."

"Knock yourself out."

"Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure." He tilted her head a little, his hands holding her firm as he floated into her eyes again, losing himself. He rubbed the curve of her jaw, and whispered, "This one left them all behind."

And then his lips were on hers and Callie was so shocked, so touched, so completely floored and *desperate* for comfort ... that she kissed back. His tongue danced against hers, igniting something inside her that she thought was dormant and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. She tasted the Twix, tasted her tears, and tasted something else that was not desperation at all. It could only be described as undiluted desire and it raced through her body, causing her blood to rush to her ears.

He moaned against her mouth and she felt drunker than she had ever been. She made a sound in the back of her throat when he finally pulled away and struggled to catch her breath. Her eyes were glassy and her head was spinning like a top. "Alex, what are you doing?"

"I’m trying to kidnap what George has stolen. Your heart." He lowered his hand and rested it just over her left breast. "Because I think - no, no, wait - I know - that I can put it back together. And I want to."

"Oh my god."

"Callie, something’s changed. Between us. And I’m blindsided. I don’t know when it happened, but it did. It - it has happened."

"Stop." She reached up and touched his mouth, wondering as she did why her hand didn’t tremble, why guilt didn’t force her to pull back. "It - it changed when you believed me."

"Yeah. I think maybe it did." He took her hand in his and added, "I don’t want to complicate your life more than it already is."

"Geez, thanks. It’s a little late for that."

"What are you gonna do, Cal?"

"Addison told me that I should try to save my marriage so that I wouldn’t look back in ten years and wonder if I made a mistake by letting it go." She took a deep breath. "I tried. I really feel like I tried, Alex, but I won’t live ten years at all if I keep letting him make me feel this way."

"Then leave him."

She drew strength from his touch and soldiered on. "I haven’t felt alive until right now and if the option is mostly dead with him or completely alive with you --- then this is another one of those wrestling matches that you would win. You’d win, Alex, but I’m not a prize unless you count my money and I can’t disappoint the people who-"

"You can’t live your life for other people. Because when you live it like that ... then drinking enough to kill yourself makes sense. Because your life is not yours and you don’t value it anymore because you’re giving it away a piece at a time." Alex pushed her hair back and thumbed the diamond earring she wore. "And the prize, Callie, the prize isn’t in your bank account or who your family is. The prize is that once all that’s stripped off ... you’re still worth a million bucks without it."

"Is that from a movie?"

"Yeah. Ours."

They kissed again and when he pulled back this time, she was smiling. Alex leaned a little closer and repeated, "What are you gonna do, Cal?"

"I’m going to go take that evaluation and I’m going to ace it." She leaned her cheek against his and whispered. "And them I’m going to leave him."

*~*~*~*~*~

Cambyses Iason Torres was a man on a mission. He strolled into Seattle Grace Hospital, dressed in black leather pants and a maroon shirt that was unbuttoned at the neck. His hair was long and so black it was almost blue under the hospital’s harsh light. It brushed against his broad shoulders in soft waves and the ice blue contacts he wore were stark against his olive skin. He carried his guitar case over his shoulder and an Armani suitcase in his hand. As he approached the nurse’s station, he saw that several of the staff had stopped to watch his approach. He was used to it.

"I’m looking for my sister. Calliope Torres," he told the blond behind the counter. "Is she on duty?"

Izzie blinked several times, staring up at the man. He was tall, easily pushing six foot five and he was possibly the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. His features were rugged and he had a five o’clock shadow on his jaw. "Uh, hi," she finally muttered, staring at the hair that was visible on his chest. "She is around here somewhere, but she’s not on duty."

"Can you page her?"

"That could be a problem. She’s actually in a meeting."

"Could you tell me something? Is she okay?"

Izzie made the assumption that he already knew the gory details. "Well, anyone who has attempted suicide is -"

"What!?" He dropped his guitar which clanged against the nurse’s station, but ignored it. "What do you mean? What happened to my sister? I swear to God ... I don’t usually mind being the black sheep, but I’m always the last to know."

"Oh, god. I thought you knew what happened. She's okay. She was treated and released."

"See, I knew something was wrong. We’re twins. When she hurts, I hurt. When she lies to me, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s lying." Cam exhaled and shook his head. "She lied to me. She told me she was fine."

"She is fine," Izzie replied. "Well, physically."

"What happened to her?"

Izzie took him aside and quickly explained. Cam’s eyes widened when she finished the story and he took a deep, lung filling breath. "You may want to clear the ICU, ma’am. She’ll be back in no time flat. Possible strangulation, but I won’t rule out throwing her off the balcony so be prepared for that, too."

"Mr. Torres, I can assure you that she feels worse than anyone possibly should. I’ve heard that your parents are in town and are being horrible to her."

"That’s nothing new," Cam told her. "They always do that. She’s immune. We all are. Now it’s my turn."

"Cam?"

Cambyses turned and immediately felt at ease. His boyfriend had been able to do that for him for almost ten years. Blake, who stood at just under six feet tall, had wire rimmed glasses and a slightly round belly. His receding red hair was cut short and parted on one side and the shirt and tie he wore made his hazel eyes seem green. He was seven years older than Cambyses and Cam had fallen in love with him the moment he laid eyes on him.

His temper had eased considerably by the time Blake made it to the end of the hall, slightly winded under the luggage he carried. Reaching down, Cam laced his finger’s through his boyfriend’s and looked back at Izzie. "This is my life partner, Blake. Blake, this is - I didn’t catch your name, I’m sorry."

"Dr. Stevens," she replied.

"She was just telling me that my sister is a fool."

Izzie quietly listened while Cam relayed what had transpired with Callie. They were certainly an odd looking couple. ‘Greek God meet Joe Everybody’, she thought. But then the same could be said about George and Callie. She glanced at Blake and realized that he actually reminded her of George in a way. He was straight laced and when he spoke, she heard that he was just as soft spoken.

"Don’t be mad at her," Blake said, squeezing Cam’s hand. "You don’t kick someone when they’re down and from the sounds of it she’s at the bottom of the barrel."

Cam stared down at the other man, one eyebrow raised. Izzie smiled a little. He looked like Callie now. He certainly had her disposition. She answered a few more questions that the men had and then Addison appeared and Izzie asked her which room at the Archfield Callie was staying at. Addison took one look at Callie’s brother and said, "You’re the twin!"

"You’re the Addison!" Cam replied, then stepped forward and hugged her. "I’d recognize you anywhere. Callie sent me photos of you guys from ... Joe’s ... is it? Dancing on the bar."

"Oh my god." Addy buried her face in her hand. "She said those would never see the light of day. That was after a very bad case we worked on together."

"A case of what?" Bailey, who had heard the introduction, stepped forward. "Y’all need AA, stat."

"You would have to be Miranda Bailey. Callie loves you. Talks about you all the time." Cam shook her hand and introduced Blake.

The made small talk for a moment longer and Addison finally said, "Callie’s in room twenty two seventy seven at the Archfield. It’s five blocks south on the right. You’re welcome to take my car, but I’m not sure that the luggage will fit. It’s small."

"Aww, thank you. It’s fine. We’ll walk. We spent over four hours on stand-by and then suffered an eight hour flight in economy. We must walk," Blake replied. "It was nice to meet you all."

Bailey and Addison stood side by side, watching as Cam retrieved his guitar and laid his arm over Blake’s shoulders. "All the good ones are gay," Addison finally said. "Every single last good one."

"Tell me about it," Izzie interjected, craning her neck to get a good view of the man’s backside. "He’s hot."

"He looks like Callie." Addison glanced at the blond and narrowed her eyes. "She’s beautiful like that."

Izzie watched as Bailey and Addison walked off, talking about Greek men and women. There was no one for her to talk to anymore. Cristina and Meredith had each other, Alex ignored her, and George pretended that she had died. She glanced up in time to see George coming out of the restroom at the end of the hallway and hurried forward. "You just missed Callie’s brother."

"Which one?"

"Uh, the twin. He looks like her only he’s a giant."

George smiled. "Did you see my wife in the heels? She’s six foot tall."

"She looked good," Izzie said, nodding at him. "Uh - I know you hate me and I don’t have any right to ask, but I need to tell you something. About the night Callie came in. And I wouldn’t bother, but I think it’s worth mentioning because it might may help you see that I’m not evil and I - I did something for her. For you, really."

George sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall. He had already missed Callie’s appoint. Alex had undoubtedly taken her up. "Make it fast, Izzie."

"Come on."

They walked together into the stairwell and Izzie began to talk.

She talked for a very long time.


*~*~*~*~*~

A little over an hour later, Dr. Gellar smiled at Callie. "You’ve had all the right answers, Dr. Torres. And you look as happy as anyone I’ve ever seen. But I do have one more question."

"Go ahead."

"You’ve explained to me that the stress of a failed marriage pushed you over the edge and that’s understandable. What happens the next time you’re under that much stress, though?"

"First of all, I’m going to eliminate the source of the stress," she replied, her eye contact never wavering. "But if I do find myself in a situation where I can’t breathe again ... I’m going to go look at X-rays. I’m going to look at broken bones. Because it relaxes me. It gives me something to fix. And that fixes something inside me, too."

"Nicely done, Doctor." Gellar picked up her chart and said, "I’m recommending that you are fully reinstated beginning tomorrow."

Callie nodded, then held up her hand. "Wait. Two weeks."

"Pardon?"

"I need two weeks. I have a lot to do."

The man nodded and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Two weeks. Consider it done."

Callie stood and held her hand out. "Thank you, sir."

"You’re welcome, Callie." He shook her hand and held it for a moment longer. "What are your plans? Off the record?"

Callie couldn’t help but chuckle. Her heart felt light, better, than it ever had before. "I’m going to take the road less traveled. And I’m going to enjoy every single curve. They’re really not bad, you know. Curves. Sometimes something unexpected is waiting just around the bend."

*~*~*~*~*~

Alex was waiting in the small lobby when she walked out. He dropped the magazine he was reading and jumped to his feet, looking at her. She gave him a thumbs up and he grabbed her, spinning her a little. She threw her head back and laughed, holding onto his shoulders. "Let’s take the stairs out of here."

"I called Bailey. I told her I needed a some time off."

"What did she say?"

"She didn’t say anything. I’ve never taken my vacation."
They headed for the stairwell and Alex grabbed her once they were inside. Looking left and right he kissed her again and said, "We’re still doing this, right?"

"We are."

"Are you sure?"

"Shhhh." Callie put her hand on her lips when she heard someone sobbing. She leaned over the railing and realized that her husband was sitting two floors below, his arm around Izzie. She waited for the pain, waited for the jealousy, but nothing happened. "Fuck him," she sighed.

Alex joined her at the railing and said, "I’m kicking his ass."

"Alex-"

She ran after him and the clatter of her heels caused George and Izzie to jump to their feet. Izzie brushed the tears off her face and looked at Callie, "Hey, how’d it go?"

"Don’t you talk to her." Alex stood six steps lower than Callie, glaring at Izzie. He looked at George and said, "Where were you? You never came up to the lobby to see about your *wife*."

George looked up at Callie and swallowed hard. He knew that there would be hell to pay. "I - Izzie was just telling me that she took your DNR paper from your chart, Callie. She said that she couldn’t let you be my Denny."

"Wow." Callie put a hand on her chest and tried to look shocked. "Thank you, Izzie. That was really generous of you. You should be canonized."

"Don’t. I - I know that it was wrong and that you wanted to - no, I don’t know." Izzie wrapped her arms around her waist. "I just - I’m sorry that this happened. All of it."

"Someone should be," Callie replied and her voice was so sugary sweet that it hung in the stairwell like molasses. She stepped down one of the steps and tilted her head to one side. "Cause I’m not. You did want me to be his Denny, right? So, I’m going to do what Denny would have done if he had lived."

Izzie looked up at her, not sure what to expect. "Oh? What’s that?"

Callie smiled. "I’m going to get as far away from you and your drama that a person can get. Because it’s toxic. And George? You’re the star in her drama and you thrive on it. You don’t live at the Archfield anymore. We’re not together. We will *never* be together. I’m divorcing you."

"What?" George looked like he had been slapped. He started up the stairs, but Alex stepped in front of him. George stumbled and almost fell. "Callie, don’t. Don’t! We fixed this! We’re happy."

"No," Callie replied. "We’re not. We’re not happy together and someone has to admit it. I can only be near you if I’m drunk. But I bet if you go back in the elevator with Izzie and kiss her again, you’ll feel great."

"No! NO!" George looked at Izzie and shouted, "Why did you tell? It didn’t mean anything! Damn you, Izzie!"

"I don’t know! I just-"

"Shut up!" Callie shouted. She looked down at Alex and shook her head. "Can you believe them?"

"What I can’t believe is that we’re still standing here." He reached up, his hand outstretched, and said, "Let’s go, gorgeous."

Callie stepped down another step and stared at Alex. His back was to the large floor to ceiling window and the it seemed to signify freedom, that the world lay in front of her. With him. She glanced back at George, who stood beside his mistress, and she realized that it was wasteland. George had pulled her into a wasteland and she had almost drowned in his lies. She almost let it kill her.

She put her hand in Alex’s and nodded. "As you wish."

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 13
*~*~*~*~*

If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be too cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.
- Annie Dillard

*~*~*~*~*


Immediately after securing lodging at the Archfield, Cambyses headed to his parent’s room. He was angry, his hands were shaking and his palms were wet from the fists he had been clenching since he had heard about Callie. Suicide. Suicide? The word kept replaying in his head and he kept hearing Callie’s voice on the phone the day it happened. He had heard her unhappiness, but had encouraged her to have the party. He could kick his own ass for it, but that would have to wait. By the time he arrived at the Ambassador Suite, he was crying from anger and fear.

Melana opened the door and looked at him with wide eyes after he pounded against the wood hard enough to startle half the people on their floor. He sailed past her, stalking past Gucci who reached for him. "I can not believe this," he snapped. "I can not believe that you are my mother. I just - you have no concept how to parent. Anyone."

"Cambyses, what are you doing here? Besides being a drama queen?"

"Where else would I be, Mother?" He spun to face her, his face red. "How could you not call me? How could you not tell me!?"

"Your father and I are taking care of the situation with your sister. Your services really are not needed here."

"DO NOT DO THAT!" he shouted. "Do not dismiss me like I’m ten years old again!"

"Even ten year olds grow up, Cambyses. Honestly, leather pants? You look demonic. Is your little friend with you? What, pray tell is he wearing? Perhaps pink taffeta or chiffon? Maybe he's being bold and wearing both."

"Stop it, Mother! This is not about me or Blake or your denial that I am still a human being. This is about Callie. I don’t understand any of this. She loves life. And she’s a fighter. So, tell me how this happened. What is she saying?"

"She says that she didn’t try to hurt herself. She claims it was a mistake."

"What do you think? Or, actually, what does Dad think?"

"*We* think that your sister has a problem. With alcohol. We think that she needs help. Luckily, her husband agrees and has promised to push the idea of rehabilitation and I believe he will succeed. He has quite a way with her. I’ve never seen anyone deal with her the way he does and she responds well to it. He doesn't coddle her."

"Great. While you’re shipping my sister off to Betty Ford, why don’t you ship her wonderful husband off to Cheaters Anonymous. He drove her to this so it’s only fair that he get shock therapy as well."

"Perhaps if you were in a conventional relationship you would understand the bond between a husband and wife. Callie has decided to stay with him and has forgiven him."

He ignored the personal attack. "Where is she?"

"She should be back any time."

Raphael emerged from the bedroom, fresh from the shower, and stared at Cam with shock. "You are supposed to be covering the mergers and acquisitions meetings right now! Who is doing it?"

"Loukas." Cam shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather pants. "You can’t expect me not to be here." He glanced at his mother. "If this was a conventional family then you would understand the bond between Callie and me and you would know that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is *not* okay."

"We’re taking care of it." Raphael walked across the room and embraced his son. "I’m glad you’re here though. Callie will be thrilled to see you."

"Thanks, Dad." Cam ran his hand over his face, drying his eyes. "Dr. Stevens said that she was lucky that her liver wasn’t destroyed. I think I’ll yank it out of her myself and slap her with it."

Raph smiled and indicated that they should have a seat at the table. Melana pointedly ignored the invitation, picked up Gucci, and walked further into the suite where she turned her back on her son and husband. Raph grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator and sat across from Cam, then said, "Did Blake come with you?"

"Yes, sir," Cam replied. "Hey, do you remember when Callie and I took Uncle Kick’s boat? I dreamed about it. Remember the nightmares we both had? It was just like that, but this time she drowned. She never even tried to swim."

"That’s why you came?"

"That’s why I came." Cam nodded. "I know it sounds insane and it’s too stupid for words, but I feel like she’s in danger. I feel like something is going to happen to her."

They drank their water in silence for a while. Raphael finally leaned forward a little and said, "I think you’re right."

"What?"

"She’s hurting herself, Cam. Your mother seems to think that her marriage is enough to get her through this and I confess that George is trying, but she’s not happy, mijo. She’s wasted away to skin and bones, her smile is fake, she got a tattoo as large as this room on her back, and the first thing she wants to do is reach for alcohol when she’s confronted with stress." Raph studied his son, seeing so much of Callie in him that it was a comfort. "The two of you do share a beautiful bond and I’ve always been grateful that she has you, son."

"You’re freaked because she got a tattoo? That’s kinda hot, Dad."

"I assure you it’s not." Raph took a sip of his drink. "It’s actually good that you’re here. She’ll listen to you above all others."

"I know that tone. God, I hate that tone. What do you want me to do?"

"Your sister has lied to protect you and lied to help you, but she has never lied *to* you. Get the truth out of her, mijo. Make her hit rock bottom no matter how hard it is for you to do so."

Cam opened his mouth to reply, but his father’s cell phone rang and Raph reached for it. "It’s Callie," the man said, then answered. "Hi, princess."

"Hi, Daddy."

"How was the evaluation?"

"I go back to work in two weeks," Callie replied. "Is, uh, Mama there?"

"Yes. And guess who else has come all this way to see you? Cam. He arrived a little while ago." There was a long pause. "Callie, honey? What’s wrong?"

"Can you put the phone on speaker? I need to tell you something. All of you."

Raph glanced at Melana, who was peering over the back of the sofa. He beckoned her forward, then hit the speaker button, "Go ahead, darlin’. We’re listening."

"Hey, Cal."

"Hey, Cam." Callie’s voice was soft, low. "I wish - I wish I had known that you were coming because I really want to see you and now - well, I can’t. I - I’m going out of town for a while."

"What do you mean?" Cam asked, his brow furrowed. "Where are you going?"

"It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m fine, but I - I can’t really deal with my life unless I do this for myself. And that’s what I’m doing. I’m dealing. I need a break so I’m taking it."

Melana moved closer to the phone and said, "Are you going somewhere with George? A vacation? What?"

On the other end of the line, Callie took a deep breath. "Hear me out, okay? You were right last night at dinner. I do have a problem, but it’s not something that can be fixed with rehab or you guys protecting me from myself. You said that you would support me if I wanted out of my marriage and I do. I have to get out because it’s not healthy and it’s a lie. Can you call Quinton and get the papers started so that I can-"

"What?!" Melana cried. "What happened? What -"

"I gave him the chance to tell me the truth about the woman he was with. I gave him the chance more than once and today I found out that he has lied to me all along. Right to my face. It wasn’t just a drunken thing. They - they had contact while they were sober and I can deal with a lot of things, but that’s not one of them. He looked me in my face after that. He looked me in my face and went home with me and let me buy him dinner. And who knows what else we did together or who he was thinking of while we did it. That makes me feel like trash."

"Oh, baby," Raph said, taking Mel’s hand in his. "Come back to the hotel and-"

"I can’t. I don’t want to be there yet. We - there’s too many memories." She cleared her throat. "I have two weeks off at work. I’m going to take at least a week - maybe more - of that for myself. Starting now. Don’t try to find me. Don’t try to call because I’m not bringing along a phone and just - know that I’m safe."

"No!" Raphael half stood. "Calliope, you come back here right now! You are not going off again on your own and -"

"I’m not by myself, Daddy."

"What? Is Addison-"

"I’m with Alex."

Melana put a hand over her mouth. "Callie," she finally said. "Honey, you’re hurt and we will start the paperwork if you want us to, but two wrongs do not make a right. In the eyes of God you are still married and if you do this then you are just as guilty, just as wrong as George was. You can’t come back from this once you cross the line that far."

"Mom, I’m pretty sure God will understand. But you’re right about one thing. That line? George crossed it and I’m tired of pretending that it’s okay."

"Are you involved with this man, mija?"

"I don’t know what we are, Daddy, but I know that this is where I need to be right now. He makes me sane and I haven’t felt sane for a very long time."

"What are you doing with your life, Calliope? This is madness," Melana cried. "Last night you finally ate dinner! George helped you see that you have to nourish the body! The two of you talked to one another! You seemed happy with your husband and-"

"The harsh light of day tends to wake you up whether you’re ready for it or not. I’ll be okay. And Mama?"

"What?"

"Don’t cancel the party. I’ll be back for it. I need my family. Just - make it only family, okay? I don’t want anyone there who isn’t blood except for Addison. And probably Alex."

"Honey-"

"I have to go. I love you."

"Wait! Callie!" Raphael snatched up the phone and listened, but the call was disconnected. He quickly dialed a number, a reassuring hand on Mel’s shoulder. "Quinton? I need you to access Calliope’s bank records. I need to know when and where she makes any transactions from this point on. I also need you to check her phone records and see if we can trace her location by pinging it. No, no, she’s not okay. Call me back immediately."

"Raphael." Melana began to cry when he hung up the phone. "She’s not thinking clearly. What if something happens to her? Find her!"

"I will, mi vida. I will." He leaned down and kissed her on the head. "I promise."

"You won’t find her." Cam smiled knowingly at his father and leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs in front of him. "She wants to disappear. And that’s what she’ll do."

Raph, his arm around his wife, shook his head. "You underestimate me. I am always a step ahead of my children. When it comes to my daughter ... I will turn over every stone and move mountains for her."

"She’ll probably be on that mountain, Dad. Climbing it. Or base jumping off it. Let her go."

"We need to get in touch with George and find out what happened," Mel interrupted, dabbing her eyes.

"She just told you what happened, Mom! He broke her heart!" Cam got to his feet and caught Gucci, who jumped into his arms. He soothed the primate, who appeared agitated by the raised voices. "You know, sometimes I think that we were so blessed. We had money, we never had to want for anything, *except* for you to see us. I came out of the closet when I was fifteen years old. I have been in a loving, committed relationship for ten years. You can accept that George destroyed your only daughter, but you can’t accept that Blake loves your son. See us for once! Realize what’s going on! Open your eyes and see us!"

"Cam-" Raph began.

"No! You said that she’s wasted away to nothing. You said that she keeps drinking and she almost drank herself to death. Who do you think is the cause of that? She never did this until *him*. And if she needs to get away with whoever this guy is that she’s traveling with then more power to her. I hope she has a good time and I hope that he makes her feel better than her *husband*."

"What happened to her being in danger?" Melana asked, no longer crying. "I heard what you told your father."

"I think maybe George is the danger she’s in. If she’s not here then she’s not in it anymore."

Raph’s phone trilled and he answered, speaking in clipped tones for several moments. When he hung up, he looked at his family and said, "That little minx. She’s smart. She took thirty thousand out of the bank in cash. She won’t be using her credit cards."

"Told you."

"Quint is checking all flights out of the area and -"

"She’s not going to fly commercial. She’ll fly herself, Dad."

"Then perhaps I will clip her wings when I do catch her."

*~*~*~*~*~

George sat in Addison’s car. She had found him alone in the stairwell with his head against the wall. The worst of the tears had abated after he had screamed at Izzie enough, but as soon as he saw his wife’s best friend, they started anew. Addison had pulled him to his feet, bought him takeout which remained untouched, and drove him to his mother’s place at his request. They were still sitting in the driveway, in silence, when Addison finally said, "Are you going to tell me what happened? Or am I keeping your ass here until you do."

"I kissed Izzie. In the elevator."

Addison slapped him, hard, on the back of the head. "You idiot! What the hell were you thinking? Today of all days! Or any day!"

"Oww!" George massaged his scalp. "Not today! Weeks ago! And I didn’t tell Callie about it. I didn’t think she’d ever find out. Then she did."

"I warned you not to get cocky! And who in their right mind gets cocky when they’re still holding onto a secret? What the hell is wrong with you?"

George started to cry again. "We made love last night. It was perfect. It was -" He trailed off for a second. "Okay, not perfect. She - she seemed upset with herself for doing it and I - I didn’t really help."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, afterwards I played it off. I tried to act like it was the most natural thing in the world and make her laugh or whatever. Then we had dinner with her parents and they were nice to me, but-"

"Not to her?"

"It was an intervention, Addison. They’re never nice."

"A WHAT! AND YOU WENT ALONG WITH IT? YOU REALLY ARE AN IDIOT!" She smacked him again and he cowered. She felt guilty immediately, mostly because he looked like a kicked puppy, so she hastily added, "She’s *your* wife. It’s supposed to be the two of you against everyone else."

"Us against them." George rubbed his head. "That’s what she said, too. Before we went to dinner."

"Maybe you should have listened to her." Addison sat back in her seat and sighed. "Why did you want me to bring you here?"

"She’s divorcing me. She told me. She said not to come to the Archfield."

"Oh my god." Addison looked at him. "Then you should have gone to the Archfield. Are you going to fight for her? George, do you - are you in love with Callie? At all?"

"Yes. I am."

"Then what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Addison-"

"You get that I was on your side, right? I kept nudging her for you. I kept telling her that you were sorry and that you were going to fix it and look at what you’ve done."

"I know!" George cried.

"Who told her about you and Izzie in the elevator?"

"Who do you think? Karev."

"What happened after she found out? Was she okay? God, I could kick you in the ass."

"She left with him. He held out his hand and she took it and left with him. I bet they’re - no, I can’t even think it."

"She left with Alex?" Addison blinked, then pulled out her cellphone. She called Callie’s number to no avail. It went straight to voice mail. She turned to address George again when she noticed Louise walking down the sidewalk toward the car. "Uh, George?"

"Yeah?"

"Your mom."

George rolled the window down and looked up at his mother. "I’ll be inside in just a minute."

"You most certainly will not." Louise shook her head and planted her palms on her ample hips. "Your wife just called her parents and told them that she is leaving town. Now, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that this is your fault, but she confirmed it with them. I am ashamed of you, George. Ashamed."

Addison leaned over the gear shifter and looked up at Louise, fear evident on her features. "She’s leaving town? Permanently or-"

"She said for a week or so. She has to report back at the hospital in two weeks." Louise sighed and glared down at her son. "And she’s taken Alex with her."

"What!? That son of a bitch!" George yelled, leaping from the car with such force that he almost hit his mother with the door. When she stepped back, he whirled and punched a nearby telephone pole, then howled at the pain.
Addison hurried out of the car and rushed to where he stood, bent at the waist, gripping his hand. "Let me see. George, let me see your hand."

"It's fine."

"Just -"

"He warned me. He told me that he wanted her and I didn't believe it. I didn't think he'd go for her. Not really."

He raised up and looked at Addison finally. He looked like a sad clown and it was too real to be comical. Tears wet his cheeks, his nose was red from the crying, and his hair had curled up from the humidity of the evening drizzle. Wordlessly, he took a step back and then he turned on his heel and ran. The women watched in shock as the darkness swallowed him.

"Should we-" Addison began.

"No." Louise stood a little straighter, as if holding herself upright would somehow give her strength to do what she needed to do. "I raised my son better than this and if it takes him spending the night in the rain with a hand that is as hurt as his wife’s heart then so be it."

*~*~*~*~*~
"You’re kidding."

"No, I’m really not. This is what I was doing earlier while we waited for Gellar to see me. I was making plans." Callie watched as Alex crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at the Cessna Citation Mustang. It was smaller than several of the other planes that were housed at the hangar, but she knew that it was still intimidating. She bit her bottom lip and said, "I fly it home every Christmas. I promise. I’m good."

"I’m not doubting your skills, Cal." Alex cocked his head to one side, still gazing at the plane. "But where are the propellers?"

"Who needs propellers when you have two Pratt and Whitney fanjet engines that deliver one thousand four hundred and sixty pounds of takeoff thrust apiece?"

He looked at her then. And smiled. "Thrust, huh?"

"Thrust."

Alex walked to where she stood and put his hands on her hips. It was obvious that he was thinking of an entirely different form of thrust by the smirk on his face. "Where are we going?"

"Los Angeles. I bought a house there three years ago and I’ve never even seen it."

"We didn’t pack anything." Alex leaned down, kissing her. It was lingering, soft and hard in equal measures. "But you did say ‘thrust’ so I guess I’m along for the ride. Do I call you captain, by the way?"

"You can call me whatever you want as long as you keep kissing me like that."

"Oooh, an invitation. Let me R.S.V.P.." He kissed her again, slower this time and didn’t break away from her until someone cleared their throat behind them.

Callie sighed and stepped around Alex, extending her hand toward Miguel Santos, the caretaker of the private air strip that housed her plane. Miguel handed her a stack of papers and spoke rapid Spanish, gesticulating wildly with his hands. Callie replied in Spanish and nodded her head several times. Then, without warning, she gripped the shorter man by the lapels of his coveralls and said, "If you tell my father *anything* then I will feed you your scrotum in little pieces."

"Okay, fine!" Miguel growled in perfect English. "I’ll park the car in the hangar and we’ll do it your way. I’ve got the fake flight plan that shows you heading to the east coast. But Raphael Torres is not going to stop there, Calliope. He’ll send someone to look for your plane and when he doesn’t see it - HE will be feeding me my scrotum and probably his fist as well."

"By the time my father figures out that it was a bait and switch, I will already be halfway back here." Callie reached up and opened the door of the plane. "Are you ready, Alex?"

"We’re leaving now?" Alex seemed shocked, like the idea of leaving on the plane was just that - an idea. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Callie walked around the aircraft, checking a few things out for herself, then she turned back to Miguel and said, "I appreciate this. You’re a good man."

"I hope I remain a man and not a eunuch. Your father will kill me."

"I’ll take the blame." Callie motioned for Alex to ascend the steps first, then she followed behind him. She waved at Miguel and closed the door.

The plane was very cramped on the inside, but luxurious nonetheless. There was room for four passengers in the cabin and a pilot and co-pilot in the cockpit. Callie dropped her purse on one of the leather seats and kicked off her shoes. Digging her toes into the plush white carpet, she groaned. "Now I remember why I don’t wear high heels," she sighed and moved past him, heading for the pit. "You want to ride shotgun or would you feel more comfortable back there?"

"I’m with you." Alex followed her and strapped himself into the vacant seat. He watched quietly as Callie pushed several buttons, then she handed him a set of earphones and put her own in place. He listened to her conversation with the tower and stared, wide eyed, when she finally maneuvered the plane onto the runway and they took off.

Callie smiled when Alex gripped the arms of his chair and they shot upward, straight into the clouds. She waited until they had leveled out before she spoke to him. The climb could take a seasoned veteran’s stomach and he was looking kind of green. "You know what?"

"What?"

"You’re the first person who has been in this plane with me. Ever."

"I am?"

"You are."

"When did you learn to fly?"

"My dad used to take me up when I was just a kid. He started teaching me before I was big enough to see over the controls. Then when I was old enough I went to flight school in my spare time and eventually got my license."

"Do your brothers fly?"

"No."

"Oh, so your dad spoiled you rotten, but not the boys?"

She smiled. "The boys were predestined to take equal parts in the running of my father’s various businesses. That was never an option for me. Teaching me to fly meant that no matter how far away I went, I could always find my way home."

"He didn’t want you to work for the family?"

"He didn’t want me to sing for the family." Callie turned a couple of knobs and responded to something from the tower before she addressed Alex again. "That was my mother’s big plan. I was going to sing. On Broadway. As soon as my dad found out that there was an agent interested in signing me, he flipped out, and sent my ass packing to medical school against my will."

"You didn’t want to be a doctor?"

"I didn’t want to cause anymore conflict in my family. My parents were arguing all the time about me and my future so I did what my father wanted. Don’t get me wrong, I love medicine. I love helping people and doing what we do, but what I really wanted was to fly. Big, ugly passenger jets full of grouchy adults and screaming babies."

"Well, look around, Cal, you’re a pilot. You got the best of both worlds."

"I fly once a year which isn’t nearly as cool." She shrugged her shoulders. "And while I love this plane it’s just not the same as a seven forty seven."

"Have you flown one?"

"Once. And only kinda sorta. My uncle bought tickets for my brother and me to attend a twins convention when we were seventeen. We were in first class and the co-pilot walked by and I asked him if I could see the cockpit. He said okay and they let me hold the wheel. It was brief, just a split second, but it was the best moment of my very young life. I was in love with the power of it. With the speed. With knowing that I held hundreds of lives in the palm of my hand."

"You’re an adrenaline junkie."

"Very true. That was the first moment of my life when I had direction, when I knew what I wanted to do."

"Have you always done that, though?"

"Done what?"

"Given up your dreams, your goals, to make other people happy?"

"Yeah." She concentrated on the horizon. "Can I tell you something weird?"

"You can tell me anything."

"I went swimming this morning at the hotel. The water was like ice and I was the only one in it. The sky was kind of cloudy when I jumped in and after I swam for a while and finally climbed back out ... the sun was breaking through and it’s like I saw everything crystal clear for the first time. It was like a baptism, you know. It’s like I went down as a liar and came up a believer."

"A believer in what?"

"Me."

"It’s about time." Alex shifted in his seat so that he could watch her more comfortably. "Can I tell you something weird?"

"You can tell me anything."

He grinned. "You’re not the only one who saw everything crystal clear today. I know that we’ve flirted and goofed around in good fun, but I felt like I was seeing you for the first time when you were studying those X-rays. You were gorgeous. I couldn’t stop looking."

Callie toyed with the yoke and swallowed hard. Tears stung at her eyes and she quickly looked out the window until she regained control. "So, it took a pretty dress and perfect hair to make you realize that I’m actually a girl and not just -"

"Don’t do that." Alex cut her off and touched her arm. "You do look gorgeous, but it wasn’t the clothes I noticed. It was your eyes. When you started to cry because of what I told you it felt like someone was holding a brand against me. Against all of me. You could be bald and have on a sack of some kind and your eyes are still going to get to me every time."

"That is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Well, don’t abuse it. Don’t think that just looking at me is going to get you whatever you want." Alex narrowed his eyes when she glanced at him. He reached over, touching the dampness on her cheek. "Why are you crying?"

"I should feel guilty. I should. What we’re doing-"

"Don’t do that either. You either feel something or you don’t. Don’t think about what you should feel and think about what you do feel." He unbuckled his seatbelt and kissed her just behind the ear. "And I feel you."

Callie hissed a little as chills raced up and down her spine. How did he know that was her spot? "I feel you, too, but we’re going to feel this plane crashing if you don’t stop that."

"Hmmm." Alex reached down, sliding her skirt slowly upward. He exposed her knee and ran his fingers over it. "Pilots should be able to fly well under any circumstances. Granted, I’m not a grouchy adult or a screaming child, but I’m just as distracting. Now ... concentrate on the flight. If you can."

Callie swallowed hard when his hand moved a little higher. He traced a pattern on her mid-thigh and she gasped. "You’re killing me, Alex."

He moved higher still, dragging his nails across the outside of her leg, then upward toward her hip. He smiled when he felt her breathing change and kissed her neck, suckling at her flesh. The plane jerked violently and suddenly, almost bucking him out of his seat, and he backed away, eyes wide. Callie had her lips pursed together and was gripping the yoke tightly in her hands. "Callie Torres! You did that on purpose!"

Callie looked at him and shook her head, then pointed out the front windows.

There was a storm on the horizon. Lightning flashed against the blackening sky and thunder boomed suddenly. The plane pitched again and she grabbed his arm. "Put your seatbelt back on. I’m going to go above it."

"Callie-"

"It’s okay. I’ve flown through worse."

Alex buckled his belt and gripped the arms of his chair again. "Why didn’t they warn us?"

Callie said nothing, but as she stared at the storm and the wind pitched the little jet again ... she worried that maybe someone was warning them.

*~*~*~*~*~
Ch 14
*~*~*~*~*~

Callie felt like she had been holding her breath for hours. The storm was horrible. It turned the radio to static, made the many gauges on the plane go berserk at random times, and the yoke in her hands jerked violently. Her fingers actually ached from the white knuckled death grip she had on the instrument and her shoulders throbbed from the tension. Her eyes darted back and forth between the fuel reading and the lightning strikes. She radioed the tower for an update and was given the cloud range.

Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach.

They would need to climb to forty one thousand feet to rise above the wall.

Fuel would be an issue.

Her decision was made. They would have to fly into the storm and hope for the best. She reached out, running her hand along the contour of the control panel. "Okay, Lady. This isn’t any worse than last year."

Alex watched quietly and finally asked, "What are we doing?"

"We have enough fuel to get to Los Angeles, but if I take her up over the storm then she’s going to burn more and that’s going to be a problem. If I detract from the flight plan and have to land somewhere else for fuel then the fake plan that Miguel made for us will be obliterated."

"So, we’re going through it? We’re going through the monster just to keep your dad off our asses?"

He sounded mad and she looked at him with concern. "I’d rather keep my dad off my ass for as long as possible. Believe me, this storm is the lesser of the evils right now. I saw the way he treated my brothers when *they* rebelled which is why I never did it."

"Callie, look outside! This isn’t - we can turn around. We can drive somewhere. We can hole up in a tent in the middle of nowhere and I promise we’ll be happy."

"It’ll be okay. I do this all the time, Alex, I get off on this stuff."

"Then why are you shaking?"

"Because I’m usually alone when I get off on it. Now I have precious cargo so I’m not just thinking about me." Callie took a deep breath and pressed another button. "I have to have music. Loud, loud music. It relaxes me. You’ll probably hate it, but I really need you not to talk and not to move too much because I have to get in the zone. Okay?"

"Okay."

The opening strings of ACDC’s ‘Highway To Hell’ began to play. Alex couldn’t think of a less relaxing song to be playing when they were literally going headlong into hell, but he kept his mouth shut and held on for the ride. The music was loud enough to make his ears ring, but when he looked back at Callie, her grip on the yoke was lighter and she had a peaceful and content look on her face that was mesmerizing enough to make him forget the storm.

Thunder boomed and a tailwind caught the little plane, dropping it three thousand feet in the blink of an eye. Callie reacted quickly and began to climb again. Ten minutes later ... they punched the core of the storm and the little Cessna shuddered, rattled, and pushed onward like she had been made for the rough and tumble lifestyle. Every time the wind tipped her wings, the aircraft responded to Callie’s touch and pulled herself back in line again. The plane groaned in protest a couple of times, but she obeyed the slightest command.

The CD that Callie played was mostly ACDC and she calmly sang her way through ‘Hell’s Bells’ and ‘Shook Me All Night Long’. Marilyn Manson’s version of ‘Sweet Dreams’ radiated through the plane a moment later and Callie smiled, singing along brazenly and boldly as the storm reached a fevered pitch and she tilted the wings a little so she could see down into the thunderheads. She returned the favor for Alex, tilting to his side and pointing out the window. She saw that he was as amazed at mother nature’s fury as she was, but he was also green around the gills and she leveled the plane before he could barf.

Thirty minutes later, they burst out of the darkness and into a sunset that was bright enough to cause both their eyes to water. Callie was singing along to ‘Renegade’ by Styx at that point and she let the song finish before she turned the music down. She reached over and touched Alex’s arm. "Are you okay?"

He stared over at her, wide eyed and pale. "You are undoubtedly the craziest woman I have ever known in my life. You played devil music for the soundtrack of our demise!"

"Devil music? Would you prefer Abba?"

"Do you - when I said that you were an adrenaline junkie I really was kidding, but now I see that you are." He swallowed back the bile that had been rising in his throat. "You don’t have a fear gene in your body at all, do you?"

"What should I fear?"

"Uh, death? Death comes to mind."

"Alex, death is a date on a tombstone. If you live your life fearing death then you don’t really live at all. We’re doctors. We see it. We touch it. We sometimes even cause it by mistake. And none of us get out of this thing alive." She gazed at his face as ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’ began to play. "I’d never do anything that would put you in danger."

"What about yourself?"

"I eat danger for breakfast." She touched his cheek. "And digest it very well."

It was her touch or maybe the worry in her eyes that forced him to smile. His anger, if it could really be called that at all, evaporated as quickly as the storm had arrived. "I have to warn you, I've heard relationships based on intense experiences never work."

Callie smirked a little. "Okay. We’ll just have to base it on sex then."

"Whatever you say, ma’am."

She took his hand. "That was ‘Speed’. Try to stump me with another one, Mr. Movie Bank."

"I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it." He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "Which is actually pretty true now that I think about it."

"‘City of Angels’," she replied. "And awww, by the way. My turn. You can be my wingman anytime. Which is also pretty true."

"’Top Gun’. Okay, I’m stumping you this time." He took a deep breath and blurted, "Supersonic, idiotic, disconnected, not respected, who would ever really want to go and top that!?"

"You have got to be kidding me. ‘Teen Witch’, which I have seen enough to memorize. Okay, here’s another one, I don’t remember ever being this awake."

"‘Thelma and Louise.’" He relaxed against the leather seat and stretched his legs out a little. "Fair is Fair! We didn't start this! We didn't mean for this to happen!"

"Oh my god. ‘The Legend of Billie Jean’. I love that movie." She laughed. "It doesn't matter if the guy is perfect or the girl is perfect, as long as they are perfect for each other."

"‘Good Will Hunting’. Every step I took since the moment I could walk was a step toward finding you. That’s from ‘Message in a Bottle’. Also pretty true." He squeezed her hand. "I like that you’re fearless, Callie. It annoys the hell out of me, but I like it."

"Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you." Callie quoted ‘Dirty Dancing’, but the look she gave him conveyed that it wasn’t just a quote at all. It said everything she needed to say to him and when he tilted his head and gazed at her, she knew that he got it. He understood.

The rest of the flight was comfortable. They joked more about movies and decided to call a draw when neither could outdo the other. The landing was another story, however. For most of his life, Alex had avoided planes and gone by car or bus to his destination. He hated the feel of losing altitude, hated the lurch in his stomach when the plane finally made contact with the runway and the inevitable bounce that came with it. So, when Callie announced that they had arrived, Alex kept his eyes on her instead of the approaching ground, his heart slamming against his chest.

But he didn’t even flinch when they touched down.

He did flinch two hours later when she put her hand on her hip and glared at him. A pile of clothing hid the cashier behind the counter and he was glad that she couldn’t see his face. He caved instantly and put his credit card away, making a decision that he would avoid getting that particular look from Callie again. As much as he hated that she was paying for things, she *had* made it very clear that he was her guest and as such ... he was to keep his money to himself. He shook his head when the short, blond clerk announced a subtotal that would have been a nice down payment on a brand new car and accepted the bags that another girl held out to him.

They put their purchases in the trunk of the limousine that had been waiting at the airstrip and crawled back into the car. Alex stretched his legs out and crossed his arms. He was exhausted and his limbs were still tingling from the events of the day. Growing up the way he did had prevented him from being a dreamer. He was a realist and never, in a million years, did he think he’d ever be where he currently was. Callie was amazing. And generous. And he was rapidly forgetting every woman he had ever known before her, just the way he had predicted he would when he threatened George.

Lost in thought, he was unaware that Callie was watching him or that her dark eyes were troubled.

The limo had gone two blocks when she spoke. "Alex?"

"Hmm?"

"You can buy dinner. If you want."

He looked over at her. "Okay."

"I - you’re upset about the clothes and I can tell that you’re mad, but I wouldn’t let you go pack anything so -"

"I’m upset that you would pay two hundred dollars for one pair of jeans because that’s not practical, but I’m not mad. We both know that I’m an intern. It’s not going to make me bury my head in the sand. You got money and I don’t. I don’t care."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I here? And by the way, are we going to your house now?"

"We’ll go there tomorrow. I have to buy things for it before we do. Like sheets and food."

"Nice mental image. Sheets, food, you. You on the sheets and the food on you maybe?"

"What kinda food?"
"Something sticky. Hard to lick off. It would take me longer so I could really enjoy it." He smirked when her face flooded with color and noticed that she was shifting in her seat far more than she had been. "Nervous twitch, Cal?"

"Bite me."

They arrived at the Crowne Plaza in Redondo Beach thirty minutes later. Callie paid cash for the room and used a fake name. The staff, who was accustomed to requests of anonymity, never blinked an eye and addressed her as ‘Ms. Towanda Threadgoode.’ Alex decided to call her ‘Idgie’ and then blanched when she told him that in the book version of ‘Fried Green Tomatoes’, Idgie was very much a lesbian and had a long term lesbian affair with Ruth.

"They were not!"

Callie nodded as they waited for the bellboy to lead them to their suite for the night. "There’s one scene where Sipsey looks out at Idgie and Ruth and says ‘that ol' love bug done hit Idgie’. It was pretty blatant. Fannie Flagg wrote that Idgie was *in* love and so was Ruth."

"God. Now I’ll be watching that movie and envisioning dirty, lustful things. You’ve turned my happy place into an lusty empire of lesbians and porn."

"It was pretty obvious in the movie, you know? Mary Stuart Masterson played Idgie very ‘butch’. And when Ruth tasted the honey from the comb that Idgie had gotten for her? Helllooo?"

"Why didn’t they make it clearer in the movie?"

"Because Hollywood is like Washington D.C. and they won’t push the envelope far enough to help change the discrimination by painting homosexuals in a positive light. The movie would have bombed at the box office anyway because the masses are also asses."

"You’re thinking about your brother, right?"

"He’s been with Blake for ten years. They should be allowed to get married." Callie made a face then. "Not that I would wish marriage on anyone. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It makes a person miserable."

Alex had no response. He took her hand as they followed their things into the elevator. Their room was breathtaking and the windows afforded a prime view of the marina. The coloring was masculine, with browns and tans and a fur blanket was thrown over the foot of the queen sized bed. One brick wall was a deep chocolate and he watched as Callie took off her heels and leaned against it, staring out the sliding glass doors. Her brown dress was a few shades lighter, but the colors blended together to make her hair seem blacker, richer, and her skin looked bronzed to perfection.

He crossed the room and hugged her. It was impulsive and sweet and she was grinning when they broke apart. "What was that for?"

"For not killing us. For getting out of a relationship that made you crazy. For inviting me along for the ride." He kissed her forehead. "You really are the best friend I’ve ever had. And I didn’t expect this to happen, but I’m glad it did."

"So am I."

"You look tired, Cal."

She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and glanced down at her watch. "It’s not even that late and I feel like I could sleep for days."

"Dinner first?"

"You want to go out or eat here?"

"You’re exhausted. We could order a pizza if you want."

"Have you ever been to California?

"No."

Callie stretched until her back popped and then she nodded. "Let’s go to Ocean’s Floor. And then when we’re finished you will experience why the sand in California feels better between your toes than any other sand in the world."

"Are you sure?"

He looked like a kid in a candy store and Callie forgot about her exhaustion. "I’m positive. Why don’t you change out of your scrubs and we’ll hit the road."

Alex picked up the bag containing his new clothing and retreated into the bathroom. Callie dug through a couple of the remaining bags until she found the turquoise sun dress that she had been unable to refuse. It had spaghetti straps and a low, rounded neckline. There was a peephole that would show off her cleavage without looking sleazy. She quickly slipped it on, then slid her feet into the matching sandals she had grabbed while Alex was searching for swimming trunks. Glancing in the mirror, she saw that her hair was still in place, but she glided fresh gloss over her lips and freshened up her blush.

When Alex emerged a few minutes later, wearing a pair of khaki pants and a button down shirt, he gasped. "Wow. I - I never really appreciated that color until right now."

Callie grinned at him. "I’ve never seen you with your shirt tucked in."

"Well, I’m trying to-" He trailed off when she pulled the shirt from his pants. "Uh, oookay."

"Now you’re Alex." She pressed a kiss against his mouth. "Don’t try to be someone you’re not. Take it from me ... it can kill you."

Hand in hand, they strode out of the hotel and into the night, which was alive and bustling with the energy and promise of great things to come.

*~*~*~*~*~

In the end ... it was lobster that did them in.

Callie ordered the large, whole lobster after Alex nixed her attempts at a salad or a half sandwich. He had chosen crab legs and was hell bent that she would have something just as grand. She finally relented, but she refused the wine menu and stuck with water. They got lost in a conversation about the crab fishing business again and when the food arrived, Callie dug into her rice first, savoring the medley of flavors.

Then the lobster on her plate moved and she dropped her fork.

It moved again and scuttled far enough to fall onto the table.

"What the hell?" Alex leaned forward, staring at it. "I’ll get the waiter."

"Don’t you dare! They’ll just boil it again." She gently picked up the crustacean, wrapped it in her cloth napkin, and lowered it into the leather bag that she had paid dearly for that morning. She brushed her hands off and glanced back at Alex, who was looking at her like she had grown four heads. "What? The thing clearly wants to live."

"So you take it home as a pet?"

"No! We’re going to put it back in the ocean." Callie returned to her rice and took another bite. "Besides, I’m paying it forward."

"Paying what forward?"

"You saved my life so I’m saving his."

Alex scooped meat from his own plate and put it on hers. "I think your life is a little more valuable than the lobster’s life."

"I didn’t really realize that until today. With you." Callie took a bite of the crab and moaned a little as it melted in her mouth. "You really have a way of waking people up."

"It’s one of the many services that I offer." He brushed a little butter off the corner of her mouth with his own napkin. "You know what’s funny?"

"What?"

"I almost asked you out when I first came to Seattle. You were working on a car crash victim and it was my third week as an intern. I was taking someone’s blood and saw you looking at X-rays. You were chewing on your thumbnail and I watched you for a minute and then I had to finish up and when I looked again ... you were gone. I saw you that same night at Joe’s. I bought you a drink and you sent it back to me with a ‘fuck you very much’."

She had lifted her fork, but laid it back down in shock. "You were the Sex on the Beach guy?"

"How was I supposed to know that you hated fruity drinks?"

"Do I look like I drink fruity drinks?"

"Well, I learned the hard way. I get it now. The fact that I had to drink what I bought for you made it loud and clear." He glanced at her glass of water. "You didn’t want any wine tonight?"

"I really don’t. I’ve decided that I don’t drink anymore and it’s much easier than I thought it would be." She ate another bite of the crab before she leaned back in the chair. "I’m stuffed."

Alex glanced down at her plate. She had taken less than ten bites, not that he was counting. Only he was. And it worried and exasperated him, but he chose his words wisely. "You don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive."

"You know, I could probably count the times that I’ve actually eaten since I got married on one hand. I mean, I’d grab a candy bar for the day, but I didn’t really eat a meal. So, now I just don’t get hungry anymore."

"You’ve lost a lot of weight."
She nodded. "And about five sizes, but I’m fine with that. I feel better. I look better and-"

"You looked just fine before. Hence me buying you a drink."

Callie took a few sips of her water and sat the glass back down. "You never approached me, though."

"Weren’t you seeing that blond doctor for a while? Savoy? The one who harassed Bailey at the M&M?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, there was that. I think I had a concussion that entire time."

He chuckled. "And then you started in with O’Malley. I told him that you were way too hot for him, but he didn’t listen."

"Guys like George are better off with women who drink fruity drinks. That way he can share with them," Callie replied. "You told him I was hot?"

"Yeah. A few times." Alex reached across the table and took her hand. The topic of George always brought about a change in her demeanor and he hated it. "I also told him that I was interested in you and that he better toe the line because I was ready to step in. He didn’t and I did."

Her eyes widened. "No shit?"

"None."

The waiter arrived and asked if the wanted the dessert menu. Callie declined, but Alex ordered something chocolate and when it arrived his eyes widened at the size of it. "Good god. Help me out, Cal."

She let him give her a bite of the cake and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Why it’s positively sinful."

"Are you quoting ‘Ever After’?"

"I am." Callie accepted another bite and enjoyed it far too much. "It is not fair, your highness. You have discovered my weakness and I have yet to learn yours."

Alex slipped into the seat beside hers and kissed her. "I should think it was quite obvious."

They forgot about the cake for a while.

Until the lobster in Callie’s purse rustled and caused her to jump. She pulled away from Alex and said, "Finish your dessert. We have to go."

Alex took a few more bites, forcing her to match every one and then he dug into his wallet and pulled out some cash. He saw that she had done the same and shook his head. "You said I could buy dinner."

"I didn’t really mean it."

"Too bad." Alex left enough money in the leather pouch for their food and a generous tip, then helped her to her feet. "Let’s go see the ocean."

Callie stared down at the money. "You’re a great tipper. That is so rare."

He shrugged. "My mother was a waitress. She had heel spurs and shin splints and-"

She kissed him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. At dinner with her parents ... she had told her father the exact same thing. Hearing it come from Alex’s mouth, seeing that he had left over thirty percent on the table and knowing that he didn’t really have it to throw away, did crazy things to her libido. When they finally pulled apart, someone whistled and Callie blushed. "Let’s go."

They walked the four blocks to the beach. Callie kicked off her shoes and carried them as they stepped into the sand. Alex did the same, stuffing his socks into his sneakers and pausing to roll up his pants legs. He smiled when he dug his toes into the sand and said, "You’re right. It feels different."

She practically skipped to the ocean’s edge. She laid her sandals on the beach and put her purse on top of it, then she walked into the cool waves and sighed. "Oh my god. I didn’t realize how bad my feet hurt until right now."

"Want a massage?"

"I’d fall asleep."

Alex followed her into the water and pulled her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pointed out at the moon, which was hanging low on the horizon. "You can see the old man up there tonight, Cal. That means he’s listening so make a wish."

She leaned her head back against him and said, "I wish this night would never end."

"I don’t think you were supposed to say it out loud." He nuzzled her ear. "But since I’m wishing the same thing then maybe he’ll hear us anyway."

"You’ve got layers, Alex."

"Look who’s talking. You’re like an onion."

"Not the greatest complement."

"I happen to like onions."

They stood in the water for a while and then Callie headed back to the beach and retrieved the lobster. It was clearly still alive and she started to put it in the surf, but Alex stopped her. "It still has the bands on its claws. It can’t catch food."

Callie gazed down at it. "You know, I don’t think they boiled it all. They usually take those off when they serve it." She held the animal out to Alex and added, "Hold it. I think I have clippers."

She dug through her bag and after five minutes, she shouted, "Aha! Hey, you don’t think it’s bad to put a Maine lobster in the pacific ocean, do you?"

"It’s either this or the boiler."

With Alex holding the animal, she clipped the bands and took it from him again. She smiled up at him and that’s when the lobster seized the opportunity for revenge and pinched her arm. "Ahh!" she yelped, letting it go. It was not the smartest thing she had ever done. Having it dangle, unsupported, was quite painful.

Alex grabbed it, gently working its claspers open and when he finally succeeded, he tossed it and turned back to Callie. "Grateful little fucker, huh?"

"I cannot believe that just happened." She had her hand on her arm and when Alex moved it away, she gasped. She was actually bleeding. The serrated edges of the lobster’s claw had torn into her soft flesh, pulling out a plug that was dangling by a thin piece of skin. It wasn’t deep by any means, but it wasn’t a scratch either.

"You’re going to need stitches. And antibiotics." Alex pulled off his top shirt, leaving him in a white wife beater. He secured it around her arm and picked up his shoes. "Where’s the hospital?"

"I can’t go to the hospital. My dad-"

"Okay, you know what? This cat and mouse game with your dad is interesting, but I’m not letting you get sick on my watch. If your dad can find you in a hole in the wall hospital emergency room then he deserves to catch for his trouble." He grabbed her shoes and purse and held out his hand. "Let’s go."

She got eleven stitches, antibiotics, and a shot for the pain.

When they finally made it back to the hotel room, she was half asleep and it was almost four in the morning. He took her shoes off, frowned when he saw the marks that her heels had caused earlier in the day, and rubbed each of her feet for a moment. "I thought you were joking about this."

"No. Not so much." She yawned and got to her feet, staggering a little.

He watched, wide eyed, as she pulled the dress over her head. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth as she exposed a brown velvet thong that had small pink bows on each hips. He almost swallowed his tongue completely when his gaze moved higher, resting on the matching strapless bra which she quickly removed and tossed into the corner. Her nipples were dark, small. His tongue ran over his teeth and darted out to lick his lips as he imagined what it would be like to nip one, then the other.

She was comfortable in her skin and he could see why. Every inch of her was cinnamon, tanned and sweet. He ached to mold his palm against the smooth flare of her hips, to cup one of her pert, but generous breasts. She turned away from him to turn down the bed and he moaned a little. The rounded globes of her ass caused him to grip his own thighs and when he saw the tattoo on her lower back, he wanted to taste her. He wanted to taste every inch of her because if she tasted as good as she looked ... it would truly be an addiction he would never beat.

He felt physical pain when she slipped beneath the cover and pulled it up to her chin. "Are you coming?" she asked sleepily.

When he crawled in beside her, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts, she rolled against him and said, "Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"This isn’t really what I was wishing for when I said I wanted tonight to never end. What the fuck, dude?"

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Well, it’s a new day already so we can start over."

"We’re going to Disneyland today." She yawned and moved closer still. "You want to?"

"I’ve never been. I can’t imagine anyone better to see it with."
"I want to show you the world the way you showed it to me, Alex."

"You already have." He gave into temptation and put his hand on her hip. He would never be able to sleep with her so close.

"Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Don’t let me go."

"I’ve got you." He tightened his grip. "And I won’t."

She fell asleep first.

Alex smiled when she threw a leg over his.

It felt right.

And since not much in Alex Karev’s life ever felt right ... he decided to hold on with both hands.

*~*~*~*~*~

George hitchhiked to Meredith’s house at four a.m., after walking in the rain for hours. He sat in the passenger seat of a car that smelled like mothballs and listened to the old woman who was driving describe her irritable bowel symptoms. It was his fault for telling her that he was a doctor. He knew it. So much of what was wrong with his life was his own fault and he had no one to blame but himself. He gave her advice, thanked her for the ride when they arrived at Meredith’s, and then tossed a couple of small rocks at Izzie’s window. He was shivering from the cold, wet and tired, when Izzie eventually opened the front door and let him in.

She was bleary eyed, her hair was a mess, and she had clearly been asleep. Wordlessly, she grabbed a blanket from the hall closet and followed him to the kitchen, where he sat down at the island. Wrapping him in the blanket, she started a fresh pot of coffee and watched him closely. She was stung from their blowup at work, hurt more than she had thought possible at the names he had called her, but seeing him in the shape he was in mellowed the anger that had been her sleeping partner. "You want to tell me what happened?"

"Callie left town with Alex."

Izzie’s anger returned. This time it was for George and not because of George, which was an arresting new development in their relationship. It was also for Alex, who had pretty much declared his love for her during their heart to heart about Denny. She had been considering a reconciliation with him. After all, he had kissed her in the stairwell and again when he found Callie’s DNR paperwork.

George looked up at her. "You think they’re together?"

She shrugged. "I think that Alex only knows how to do one thing when there is a vagina involved."

He laid his head on the island. "You’re not helping."

Izzie leaned on her elbows, watching him. "You really need to get some sleep. And you need to change clothes. You’re going to get catch a cold or something."

He didn’t lift his head. "I don’t have anything. And my mother has kicked me out of the house. Callie’s kicked me out of the hotel and I can’t remember where I parked my car."

"You left your old robe here. The black one. I’ll go get it and you put your clothes in the washer, okay?"

When he nodded, she hurried up the stairs and retrieved his robe from her bedroom. She lifted it to her nose, inhaling his scent as she did every night, and then returned to the kitchen. She found him in the laundry room, a towel around his waist, and held out the robe. Biting her bottom lip, she gazed at his bare chest. It wasn’t quite as impressive as she had recalled. Neither were his legs.

"Cristina is in Alex’s bed and Derek and Meredith had a fight so he’s on the sofa. Looks like you’re camping in my room. You want the sleeping bag or the bed?"

"I’ll take the sleeping bag." He slipped the robe on and followed behind her, his mind conjuring up images of Callie in her brown dress, in Alex’s arms. It twisted his heart, ate away at his pride. It hurt. Gut deep.

Ten minutes later, he rolled onto his stomach and sighed as tears blinded him again. He thought he had cried enough, but he was wrong so he gave in. The floor creaked and then Izzie’s hand was on his back and she was whispering that it was okay, that Callie would come home, that he could would see her soon. She promised to be nice to his wife, to really try to be her friend, to help George win her back.

And then they were kissing and she was naked and George was inside her. And then she realized that he had softened a moment later and he pulled out and away before he got off.

She breathed a sigh of relief.
He did the same.

Izzie lay next to him on the floor and despite the fact that she had not enjoyed an orgasm, her body was not left wanting. It was silent, seemingly protesting such an odd invasion. She was disgusted. She finally sat up and still naked, gazed at him. "George-"

"Jesus Christ, Izzie. What the hell was that?"

"Horrible, gross, and wrong?"

They looked at each other and burst into laughter. They laughed long and hard. They laughed the way they used to before they had complicated their friendship with sex.

"It was different when we were drunk," George said, still chuckling.

"Everything is," she replied, biting her bottom lip as her smile faded. "I - I think maybe we were completely wrong about each other. I just - I don’t see you that way, George. Or feel it."

"We never did. It was the alcohol." George put his hand over his eyes. "I always knew we were wrong together. When I kissed you in the elevator I felt it. It was like - you’re my best friend, Izzie, and that’s all it is. You’re *family*."

"You’re right." She touched his arm and he sat up, looking at her. "We’ll never talk about this. No one has to know."

"Someone already does." Cristina stood in the partially opened doorway, gazing at them in shock and disbelief. "You two deserve each other. McBastard and McBitch."

*~*~*~*~*~

CH 15
*~*~*~*~*~

Callie awoke at nine the following morning feeling very uncomfortable. Her bladder was painfully reminding her that she had enjoyed two bottles of water at the hospital the night before and the wound on her arm was throbbing because she was lying on it. She wiggled a little and the arm around her waist tightened, while something very hard poked her in the backside. She was against a strong chest and her eyes widened as Alex pulled her closer still. "Good morning," she said, her voice strained.

"It’s too early to be good. Let’s be bad." Alex nipped her shoulder and pushed her hair away from her cheek, studying her profile. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to sleep next to you when you’re naked? When I can feel every wonderful inch of you?"

She gasped and lifted the cover, then eased it back down over her chest. Something that looked very much like remorse flashed across her face, but when she felt his eyes on her, she hastily said, "Oh, wow. Did we, uhm, you know?"

It rankled him, her reaction. He felt the blood rush to his head and pulled his arm away. "No, we didn’t. If we had I’d like to think you would remember it."

She rolled over to face him as he slipped from the bed. "Alex, wait."

He paused outside the bathroom door. "What?"

"I want to, okay? It’s just - that shot at the hospital was strong. And that was *your* idea so don’t blame me."

"Just for future reference, I don’t take advantage of people who are drunk, high, or not thinking clearly. Which you are obviously incapable of doing. And for the record, *if* we have sex, I don’t want you to wake up the morning after and act like the thought of it is something you had to repress! Because that fucking sucks!" He slammed the door to the bathroom and gripped the edges of the sink. He thought she was over O’Malley, but the look on her face, the guilt that was evident when she lifted the cover, proved otherwise. It was infuriating to think that all the sweet words and tender moments had meant nothing to her. They had certainly meant something to him.

Turning, he pushed open the door of the shower, stripped off his boxers, and stepped inside, letting the cold water beat him on top of the head. His hard on had been raging when he fell asleep and was still alive and kicking when he awoke. It took fifteen minutes for him to regain control over his temper and his body and by then, he had washed twice and shampooed his hair with something that smelled like honey. He smiled a little, thinking of Callie’s story about Idgie and the honeycomb. He’d have to make a joke about it and see what she thought.

Thinking of Callie was enough to work the tension out of his body and when he finally shut off the water and emerged, he was in a much better mood. Intent on apologizing, he grabbed the robe that hung on the back of the door and walked back into the bedroom. Callie was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to him, wearing the same dress she had worn the night before. He sat down beside her and reached for her hand, but she stood. "Cal, come on. I’m not a morning person, okay?"

"We need to take our things to my house. I want to be at Disneyland before noon. The main lines won’t be as long by then, but we’ll still have until late tonight to see everything. Or, most of everything. You can’t do it in a day and that’s all we’ve got." She picked up the clothing she had laid on the foot of the bed. "You may want to wear shorts. Pants get uncomfortable after the water rides."

"Callie, I’m sorry. I just - I’m sorry."

She nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. He was tempted to knock, but heard the shower start and busied himself by digging through their clothing instead. He pulled out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and smiled. Callie had chosen the shirt. It had the skull and muskets from ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ on it, but the skull was wearing mouse ears and he figured she had known all along that she would be taking him to Disneyland. He was excited. He had always wanted to go, but never had the chance.

He was fully clothed and had repacked everything neatly when she emerged thirty minutes later. She had pulled her hair into a long ponytail and was wearing black shorts and a red tank top with black roses and white skulls all over. Just enough of her belly showed to make his mouth dry. She looked amazing, young and vibrant, so he told her so.

Callie sat down on the bed and pulled on a pair of socks and her new black tennis shoes. "Thanks."

She had taken the bandage off her arm and he kneeled in front of her, examining it for himself. The stitches were nicely done, but her flesh was redder than he would have liked. "You weren’t supposed to get it wet yet."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN *IF* WE HAVE SEX!?"

The force of her outburst knocked him backwards onto his backside and she never even laid a hand on him. He stared up her, unblinking, and then started to laugh. It was a hearty, side splitting laugh, and he was relieved when she joined it. He got back to his knees and put his hands on her legs, still chuckling. "You wanna do it right now? Will that help?"

She narrowed her eyes, but still grinned. "No. I do not, Smarty Pants. And no, it will not help. I don’t like you right at the moment."

He stroked her very erect nipple and nodded. "Yeah, I can tell."

She slapped his hand away. "Stop that! I am mad at you. You said I can’t think clearly."

"Well, I am mad at you, too. Because you can’t." He moved upward and kissed her. "You smell good, though."

"You smell like honey. It causes lines of deliciousness. And I have to warn you that I’m a starving bear."

"I have no idea what that means, but I think I like it." He moved his hands a little higher on her thighs. "And I really like these shorts. They’re very tiny."

"You’re not helping us leave on time."

Alex gave her an exasperated look, then picked up the first aid kit that they had purchased at the pharmacy the night before. He rubbed antibiotic cream on her arm and placed a bandage on it, then pressed a kiss against the tape. "How far away is your house?"

She glanced out the sliding glass doors. "If you’re on the balcony you can see her."

He stood and walked out onto deck, scanning the horizon. "There’s nothing but water, Gothika. And boats."

Joining him, she put her head on his shoulder and pointed out at the row of yachts that were tied off on the dock. "She’s the one on the end. Fifty six feet of pure power with a perfect cherry finish on the inside. She’s got two full bedrooms, two full baths, and a gourmet kitchen that would make Rachel Ray piss her pants."

"Your house is a *boat*?"

"She’s a *yacht*, baby." She leaned against the railing. "Her name is Goon Docks. Taken from ‘The Goonies’, which you may recall is my favorite film. I had her built three years ago and never had the time to come and get her until now. The guys at the marina are great about keeping her exercised and well fed, though."

"You talk about it like it’s alive."

Callie smiled as she gazed down at her pride and joy. "She’s like the airplane, Alex. She gives me roots and wings and nothing makes her or *me* more alive than that."

"You said that you had never seen your house before."

"I don’t have to see her to know she’s exactly what I want. I designed her myself." Callie breathed in deep, enjoying the fresh ocean air. "We’re sailing her back to Seattle. I’m moving out of the hotel and into her."

"Do what?"

"We’re sailing her home."

"That could take days."

"That’s the whole point."

*~*~*~*~*~

George was sitting at the island, bleary eyed, when Cristina walked past him and opened the fridge. He watched her drink orange juice straight from the carton while she stood in front of the open door. After she finished off what remained of the juice, she reached for the milk and sucked it down as well. When she turned and finally looked at him, she belched. It was long and loud and obviously gratifying because she smiled and pounded her chest. "Breakfast of champions."

"You cannot tell Callie what you saw last night." George moved aside as she threw the milk container past his head and watched as it landed neatly in the trash. "It was a mistake. And an epiphany."

"Whatever, dude. You suck."

"Just promise me you won’t tell her."

"No." Cristina shook her head and her black curls danced around her face. "I’m not promising you jack shit. Because you suck. And because Callie gave me her flash cards."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I scored the highest marks on the exam."

"So?"

"So, Callie is the reason and she has a right to know that you’re a sucking, lying, and vow-breaking jackass who doesn’t learn from his mistakes."

"It was *nothing*."

"If it was nothing then why are you acting like Callie would think it’s *something*?"

George poured himself another cup of coffee as she walked past him out of the kitchen. He sat alone, lost in thought. He had never had his penis betray him by refusing to remain hard during sex. Izzie had been on top of him, he had been inside her, and when his brain cleared enough and he saw that her skin was alabaster and not warm cocoa, when he saw that her blond hair looked yellow against the moonlight instead of midnight black, when he realized that she wasn’t *Callie* ... he could not perform. Not that he had wanted to.

Izzie had been convenient ... simply there while he hurt.

And when he had reached up and grabbed her hips, or lack thereof, it had been to push her away from him instead of to pull her closer. Her breasts didn’t mesmerize him the way Callie’s did. Izzie’s nipples were peach colored and Callie’s looked, and tasted, like red wine. With Izzie, it felt like something dirty that would be posted to fetish site under the header ‘Younger Brother Bags His Hot Step-Sister’. With Callie ... with Callie it could never be posted because the beauty of it would make people cry.

George cried now.

Then he saw that there was an envelope on the counter with his name on it. Damn, he thought. He had forgotten to change his address to the Archfield. He ripped it open and gazed at his intern exam scores. He had passed, just barely, and in fifteen days he would become a Resident. There should have been elation, happiness, but there was nothing. He was hollow, incomplete. If Callie had been with him to read the results, she would have done that cute little dance thing despite the low number he had received. That was their thing, their special thing. They danced over the stupidest and the best moments in life.

He wondered if she had a special *thing* with Alex yet.

"Hey." Derek stumbled into the kitchen and fumbled around in the cabinet until he located a cup. It had Winnie the Pooh on it, but he was either too sleepy or too deprived of caffeine to care. He filled it to the brim with black coffee and sipped it, then looked at George. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Callie and I had a fight. She threw me out." George folded his results and put them back in the envelope, which he tucked into the pocket of his jeans.

"Must be something in the water. Meredith threw me out last night, too. I got as far as the couch." Derek added sugar to his coffee and sipped again, grimacing a little. "She can scream, get mad when she sees me, and push with both hands, but I’m not going. I am immune to her attempts at getting rid of me."

"I shouldn’t have gone, either. Every time we’ve ever fought ... I should have stayed. With Callie, I mean."

Derek rubbed his eyes and looked at George as if he were seeing him for the first time. "Are you crying? What -"

"She’s divorcing me."

Shepherd laughed. "Do you know how many times Addison threatened to divorce me just on our honeymoon alone? She’ll come around. It’s always weird when you first get married and start to see each other for who they are. When you live with someone you suddenly realize that they leave the cap off the toothpaste, or never close the dresser drawers so you hit your knee in the dark every night, or-"

"I slept with Izzie. And I sorta did it again last night."

"Oh, right. She’s divorcing you."

George sighed. "I was drunk the first time and last night - I think I had spontaneous erectile dysfunction."

"That’s too much information."

"I couldn’t do it. I didn’t even want to do it. She’s not Callie."

Derek scratched his head and leaned against the island. He was pretty sure that the younger man was begging for advice. "There are worse things than to realize that you actually do love and want your wife. One of those worse things is to sleep with someone else. Having had it done to me I can assure you that she’s not just going to be okay with it. Ever. She may forgive you, but she won’t forget it and when something that heavy is hanging over your relationship ... it can smother you."

"I was drunk when I cheated the first time. The second time was - just dumb."

"That’s what they all say." Derek conjured a memory that was better left forgotten. "The night that I found out about Addison and Mark ... I actually walked in on it and he ran out the door and she was stumbling around the room trying to find her panties. It was raining and I threw as many of her clothes as I could carry out into the storm. Then I threw her out in just a T-shirt. And so help me God, George, I listened to her cry and beg me and I opened that door and comforted her for a moment. It was just a second. I had to touch her, I had to make it better because she was hurt. I had to make it better because I felt like *I* had failed. That I wasn’t a good enough husband. I made it my fault. For a moment. And then I left."

George swallowed hard as his second epiphany of the morning hit him in the heart. "I made Callie feel like a failure, too. I made her lose weight by saying she was curvy. I made her feel second best because I wanted my friends more than her." He looked up at the other man. "When - when you got back together with Addison ... was it ... could you make love and-"

"Not really. I had met Meredith and she filled that void. When I reconciled with Addison ... I just went through the motions of sex. I knew that there was nothing left there."

"Why did you get back together with Addison if you wanted Meredith?"

"Obligation. I took vows. And Addison was convincing. She cried. She pleaded. And she also lied to me about how involved she was with Mark. I found out that she had lived with him while we were still married and that she had loved him. And it killed me all over again that she didn’t tell me about that before I took her back to begin with." Derek drank his coffee. "You can’t rebuild a relationship if the foundation is stacked on lies. Because they always come out, they always catch up, and the one who is lied to ... is usually under the building when it falls. Love is the most innocent murderer that ever walked the face of the earth."

Derek squeezed George’s shoulder and walked out of the kitchen. A moment later, Meredith shouted at him, but within seconds, she was laughing.

"What are you going to do?" Izzie asked, appearing next to George. She finished off his coffee and rubbed her eyes, yawning. "Because I meant what I said last night. I’m *so* over the whole bitter best friend thing. I’ll help you get her back. I’ll even like her because really ... she’s not *that* bad."

"No." George shook his head. "Alex could be her Meredith. You know, how Meredith is Derek’s, uh, Meredith. Addison cheated on him and he found love with Meredith. He’s okay now. Alex could be Callie’s Meredith."

"He’s *not*."

"I won’t hurt her anymore, Iz. Because I hurt her and it *kills* me." George stood up and his test results crackled in his back pocket. "I’m going to concentrate on being a doctor. I’m going to be in a relationship with my career. I’m going to fall in love with medicine and stay away from the opposite sex."

"I’m cooking French toast. Stay. Eat. And then we’ll go find your car."

George watched as she walked across the room and pulled the griddle from under the sink. "I didn’t mean to call you a life force sucking bitch yesterday."

"Well, it was true." She sprayed Pam on the smooth Teflon surface of the fryer. "I think I went crazy after Denny died. I was looking for purpose and you became my cause. I wanted to save you and the best way to do that was to hate Callie on principle because she took you away. I had empty nest syndrome."

"You know what I think?"


"What?"

"I think that giving Hannah up for adoption gave you empty nest syndrome. Not me. And that’s why you’ve always mother henned me to death. You tell me to bury my poop, Iz." He grinned at her when she wrinkled her nose. "Just because you give up a kid it doesn’t mean that you stop being a mother. You love Christmas, you bake, you’re just as nosey as my mother, and -"

"And I have feelings for Alex."

George sat up a little straighter. He was shocked, but the small tiger that had been sleeping in his chest suddenly roared in triumph. "That’s great! That’s the answer! You get back with Alex and take him out of the picture and I’ll get Callie back."

Izzie dropped a piece of bread into the egg mixture. "George?"

"Yeah?"

"You sound awfully convinced that Alex would pick me over her." She looked up at him. "You didn’t."

George crossed his arms.

She had a point.

*~*~*~*~*~

Addison sat across from Cambyses, enjoying the stuffed crepe she had ordered for brunch. She had to grin when the man turned his plate counter clockwise so the meat was on top and then he pushed the food around so it wasn’t touching. "Your sister does that exact same thing."

"Who do you think taught me?" He sighed a little and moved his meal away, untouched. "Thanks for coming, by the way."

"Oh, thanks for the invite. I’ve been looking forward to this since Callie told me about you." She frowned, despite her cheerful words. "But you’re not eating. That’s obviously another thing you have in common with your sister."

Blake leaned toward her and said, "He’s worrying himself to death over this Alex guy. Do you know him?"

"I do." Addy nodded and put her fork down. "He’s one of her best friends and he’s actually the one who rushed her to the hospital after the alcohol thing. He stayed with her the entire time and I think he genuinely cares about her. I mean, he assured me that he did."

"Are they involved?"

Addison drank her water while she mulled her words. She was trying to be okay with her best friend leaving without a phone call, but it still hurt. Actually, it hurt more that Callie had left with Alex instead of her, but she was making peace with it. "They weren’t involved. I don’t know what they are right now. I know - I know he looks at her in a way that I’ve never seen him look at anyone and he makes her laugh and she never does that anymore."

Cam looked down at his hands, then back at Addison. "What can you tell me about George?"

"First year surgical intern, but he hasn’t chosen his specialty yet. He’s shorter than Callie by an inch or so, brownish curly hair, green eyes. He’s the quintessential math geek and sorta looks like it. He’s not chubby, but he’s not buff. He’s ... average. He’s currently living in his car and he -"

"Is he a bad boy? Not counting the fact that he can’t control his penis?" Cam asked.

"Well, no. He’s probably been in the Republican column since birth, but he loves Callie. I just don’t know if he’s ready for love. Not the kind that she deserves and offered him."

Cam looked thoughtful. "Maybe a few weeks in traction would get him ready."

"Possibly." She couldn’t help but smile. "But really, I don’t think that’s the answer. Some people just have to keep making bad decisions until the right one smacks them in the face."

"I could smack him in the face." Cam picked up his fork and dug into his meal. "And then tie an anchor to his feet and make him vanish."

Addison laughed out loud. "Callie said almost the same thing and then she added that she would jump in to save him and probably die trying. Her heart is just too big."

"That’s Callie," Blake chuckled along with her. "She’s a rescuer. She sees something that’s hurt or broken and she puts it back together."

Cam finally relaxed a little. "She told me that’s why she likes mending bones. She can see the problem, set it on the right path, and then just wait for time to do its job."

"I think that’s why she left with Alex." Addison reached across the table and put her hand on Cam’s. "She needs to be mended for a change. I think he does that for her and this is *her* time."

"What does he look like?" Blake asked. "Alex."

"He’s around six foot, brown eyes. He was a wrestler in college so he’s got the cut body. He’s also got the whole frat boy jock thing down to a science."

"They’re not involved," Blake decided. "She *hates* jocks."

"Does he have tattoos?" Cam asked.

"I don’t really know." Addison said. "Why?"

"She *does* like bad boys."

"Oh, he’s definitely that." Addy nodded.

"They’re involved." Cam took another bite of his food. "She’s a sucker for a bad boy. We both are."

Addison looked at Blake who was so much like George that it was alarming. He caught her looking and smiled at her. "What? I may look like a stock broker, but I’m wearing a leather thong."

They all laughed together for two more hours.

Addison had stopped worrying by the time they said goodbye.

*~*~*~*~*~

Goon Docks was even more impressive up close. Alex carried their clothing and watched as Callie climbed aboard. She moved with the authority of someone who had been on boats, no --- yachts --- their entire life. He followed behind her, stumbling a little over the rope that held the ship tethered to the dock. He quickly righted himself and followed her around to the cockpit. She sat down in the captain’s chair and leaned back, closing her eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Feeling her."

He watched quietly and she finally nodded and stood. He said, "How does she feel?"

"Perfect. Let’s go below deck." She headed through a small door that was just behind the cockpit and descended the stairs ahead of him.

"Oh my god." He said when he reached the bottom and took his sunglasses off. "Callie -"

She was running her hand along the white leather sectional that was built into the wall on the left. There were black leather pillows on either end of the sofa and a black and white zebra print rug rested in the floor. Dark cherry cabinets were built in behind it and she opened one, smiling at the assortment of movies inside. Turning, she gazed at the plasma television, then checked to make sure her game consoles were in the trunk beneath it.

Satisfied, she turned around and walked into the galley, which had black and white marble countertops and stainless steel appliances. She opened the microwave, then the oven, and nodded. Next, she pulled out the refrigerated drawers that were underneath the island. She had opted for the drawers and not a standing unit. Where the refrigerator would have gone stood a fully stocked wet bar with built in stools, solid white. It would be a perfect place for dinner. For two.

Beaming from ear to ear, she turned to Alex. "She’s pretty, huh?"

"She’s amazing."

"Wanna see the rest?"

"Lead the way."

She headed down a narrow hallway and pushed open the door to the guest bathroom. It was wallpapered with black and white stripes. The toilet, shower, and sink were all black, but the towels, curtains, and pictures on the wall were all red. A plush red throw rug covered the black and white tiles on the floor. "I love it," she told him. "I was worried that the red would be too much, but it works."

"It’s gorgeous." He opened the door that was opposite the bathroom and stepped into a bedroom that was bigger than his own at Meredith’s house. One entire wall was covered with cabinets and the queen sized bed, made up with a smoky grey satin comforter, was built into the center. Instead of a headboard, there was a mirror. His eyes widened at that and he glanced at the ceiling. There were mirrors there as well. "You are a freak. And a pervert."

"This is not *my* room." She pulled him toward the bow, the front most point of the hull. She opened a door that boasted a towering gargoyle on top of the frame, and pulled him inside. "This is *mine*."

It looked like something you would find in an old castle. Dracula’s castle to be more accurate. The four poster bed had black netting around the top and as he glanced up, he saw that there were mirrors, but also a plasma television that would making lying on your back in the bed a prime position to watch a movie. The thick comforter was black, but right in the middle was a huge red rose that was quilted more than the rest of the fabric so it stuck upward.

The carpet was black, the walls were blood red and the effect of it was overwhelming, but incredible. He walked further into the room, gazing up at the gothic looking chandelier and then at the massive gargoyle that lounged in the corner, his eyes seemingly tracking Alex’s every move. He turned when Callie opened another door and followed her into the master bathroom. Instead of a shower, it had the biggest claw foot tub Alex had ever seen. It was gold and he blinked a few times when he realized that the toilet and sink were gold as well. It could have been tacky ... but he knew that if he had been the one designing the boat ... *this* would have been his ideal dwelling for Callie. For *his* Elvira.

He put his arms around her waist and said, "It’s perfect."

"It is." She rested her hands on his arms. "I can’t wait to get her back to Seattle."

"We could leave now."

"Nope. Disneyland." She turned and stood on her toes to kiss him, then looked shocked. "I didn’t really realize you were taller than me."

"Not by much." He hugged her. "You still fit just fine."

"What?"

"Nothing." He kissed her cheek and added, "Did I see a hot tub on top of this thing?"

"You did. And there’s also a jet ski and a smaller motor boat that will keep us safe if we happen to sink it."

"Uh, do you sink a lot of yachts."

"Only one. But it doesn’t count."

He gazed after her when she walked out of the bathroom. "Uh, Cal?" he called. "You want to explain that?"

"No," she said. "It’ll just freak you out and really, who needs that?"

"Callie! Come back here!"

"I’m going to heat the hot tub so it’ll be ready when we get back."

The thought of it made him forget the sinking boat.

He’d remember it soon enough, though.

*~*~*~*~*~

Disneyland was everything he had hoped for and more. He bought her a talking ‘Captain Jack’ doll and she bought him a hat that she had monogrammed with his name. They had their photos taken several times and bought them all. Callie had a VIP pass that guaranteed front of the line service and they were even escorted in a golf cart for most of the day. They rode almost everything and the bigger rides more than once. She bought cotton candy as the sun went down and led him to Sleeping Beauty’s castle where they gazed up at the firework display with all the awe and wonder of two year olds seeing something perfect for the first time.

They had saved the water rides for last and by the time the park closed, they were soaking wet, cold, and so exhausted that they both dozed in the limo on the half hour ride back to Redondo Beach. The driver woke them by gently shaking Alex’s arm. He blinked and sat up. Callie had her head in his lap. Smiling, he leaned down and kissed her and she stirred after a few seconds.

"Are we home?" she asked, stretching.

"We are." He stepped out first, gathered their souvenirs, and held out his hand. They walked to the marina with their fingers laced together and he paused before she could board the ship. "Hey, Cal?"

"Yeah?"

"You remember that story I told you about my mom? About how she got beat up on Christmas Eve so that she could get me a bike?"

She stepped a little closer to him, nodding. "Of course I do."

"I lied to you. I said that I never held out any hope for Santa, but I did. Every single year I stuck a letter in the mailbox asking for just one thing."

"Oh? What did you ask for?"

"Disneyland. Santa was a little late in delivering it, but it was better to wait." He leaned his forehead against hers. "I will never forget this day with you."

"Neither will I, Alex." Callie closed her eyes and smiled. For the first time in her life she was flying without the help of jet engines. It was better than flying a 747 because she didn’t have to be completely in control for once. If she fell ... he would catch her on the way down. Because he was Alex Karev and he had yet to let her hit the ground. Even at her worst, even at her lowest, he stopped her before she crashed and burned. "Hey, Alex?"

"Yeah?"
"Nothing matters when I’m with you. Nothing bothers me. Nothing hurts. I feel good about myself and I had forgotten what that was like. You make me remember why my heart beats and why I want it to."

Alex took a step back and cradled her face in his hands. He looked into her eyes and just as he had done the day before, he felt himself disappearing in their depths. For the longest time, he simply stared at her, then he finally said, "You want your heart to beat because someone’s finally hearing it and listening to what it has to say. I hear it, Elvira. Even from across the room ... I hear it."

"I want you to hear it. All the time. I’m rapidly finding out that I’m a novice at true happiness, but I’m sure that’s what this is and I don’t know what to do with myself or with you. I know what I want and I know what I need, but I’m - I’m scared." She blinked and looked away. "God. This wasn’t supposed to happen."

The guilt was written on her face again and he hated seeing it there, hated that even the smallest part of her could remember George O’Malley and feel the slightest bit of loyalty to him. It annoyed him. It grated on his nerves and he stepped back, forcing a smile on his face. He refused to have her scared of him or feeling pressured enough to give in. "I’m pretty tired. That second Tower of Terror ride took a lot out of me. It was almost like riding in your plane again. I, uh, I’m gonna take the bedroom with the gray and try to get some rest because something tells me I’ll need it with you driving this thing."

"But-"

"Come on." He held out his hand and helped her board Goon Docks. She looked like she wanted to speak to him, but he made a big show of yawning and stretching and she turned and unlocked the door.

Callie was stunned when he kissed her neck, whispered ‘goodnight’ and disappeared into the starboard bedroom. She sat on the sofa and crossed her arms. A moment later he walked across the hallway and went into the bathroom carrying his toothbrush and toothpaste. When he emerged, she had not moved a muscle and he winked at her and headed to bed.

‘You said too much too fast.’ The little voice had returned and she closed her eyes, listening to it. ‘He thinks that you’re getting too involved. He doesn’t want that. You’re still married and he’s not like Izzie Stevens. He said *if* you had sex, not when. He doesn’t want you. Jocks never want the goth chicks so just give it up.’

Cursing under her breath, she forgot her exhaustion and stalked down the hallway into her own room, where she changed into a black Dolce and Gabbana swimsuit that was more metal than fabric. She spread several maps out on the bed and kneeled down, tracing their course with her finger. She had planned to leave the following morning at daybreak, but considering the way that Alex had completely shut her down, she figured it would be better to hit the open seas as quickly as possible.

In Seattle, they could go their separate ways.

They would always have Disneyland.

She brushed away a tear that fell onto her cheek, rolled the map, picked up her CD case and carried both up onto the deck with her. It took almost an hour for her to program the coordinates into the GPS navigator. It was high tech and incredibly sensitive. When she finally finished, she started the engine, read the gauges, and was pleased to see that the tank was full and the pressure readings were perfect. Then she untied Goon Docks from the deck and patted her gently on the side. In the captain’s chair, she took a deep breath and said, "Okay, girl, bring me that horizon."

She idled out of the marina and once she hit open water, she increased the speed and opened the sunroof, enjoying the cool night air. It took twenty five minutes to arrive off the coast of Venice. Callie could hear music from a beach party and see the bonfire that was burning brightly in a large can even though they were pretty far out. She flipped through her CD case and slid Queen into the disc drive. The first strains of ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ began to play and she dropped the anchor and dove, head first into the cool, crisp water.

She was enjoying herself immensely when something suddenly closed around her waist and she opened her mouth under water to yell out.

Alex kicked them back to the surface and as soon as their heads broke free, he shouted, "What the hell are you doing?!"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Callie screamed, choking up the water she had swallowed.

"We’re getting back on the boat!" Alex reached for her arm, but she splashed water into his face and swam under again. "Callie!"

He caught up with her quickly and this time he was rougher with her. He pinned her arms to her sides and brought her back to the surface. "GET BACK ON THE BOAT!"

"IT’S A YACHT!" she cried. "AND YOU GET BACK ON IT!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? THERE COULD BE SHARKS! THERE COULD BE JELLYFISH! AND YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO GET YOUR ARM WET! SHARKS, CALLIE! THEY SMELL THE SMALLEST AMOUNT OF BLOOD!"

"GO BACK TO BED! ALONE, ASS!"

He latched onto her and pulled her back to the ship, where he had lowered the ladder. "Get back on the *boat*."

"Alex!"

"NOW!"

Callie gripped the ladder and climbed up, stalking across the cool surface of the deck. She kept her back to him and gasped when he yanked her around to face him. "Alex, leave me alone!"

"What the hell is your problem?"

"You!"

"I haven’t done a damn thing to you!"

"I poured my heart out and you went to *bed*! I - If you don’t want this ... if you don’t want me then just tell me because I can’t keep-"

"I went to bed because you can’t make up your mind! You are *not* clear headed which is exactly what I told you this morning! I’m not touching you until you are! At the rate you’re going, with the guilt and the second guessing, that will be never!"

"I am not second guessing! I am not guilty!"

"You said this wasn’t supposed to happen!"

"It’s not! I shouldn’t be falling for you because it’s too fast! It’s too soon! But here I am! I’ve fallen and apparently I can’t get up!"

Alex kissed her. He pulled her against him and kissed her with everything that he had. His hands tangled into her long, wet hair and he held on. He tasted the saltwater on her lips and then her tongue found his and she tasted like the cotton candy they had shared under the fireworks. They broke apart when a cool breeze nearly froze the water that was clinging to their skin. He looked down at her and said, "Let’s go back inside."

"No."

"Callie-"

"Hot tub."

Alex watched as she walked to the cockpit and turned off all of the bigger lights. She left a few smaller ones on and he guessed it was to alert other vessels to their location. He finally noticed her swimsuit, then. It was red, one piece, with large metal rings all over it. Those rings were hollow and he could see her tan flesh peeking out everywhere. He had thought that he could never see her look better than she had the previous night in the thong, but he was wrong. He swallowed when she bent over and pulled another CD out of her case and removed Queen. Her backside was enough to make him forget how cold he was.

Soft, romantic music began to play and she moved around the edge of the cockpit to the hot tub and he followed. The tub rested toward the nose of the ship and she leaned down, unfastening the latches that kept the lid in place. Alex helped her wrench it free and moaned a little when he saw that the water was bubbling and he could feel the warmth against his legs. Callie looked at him and smiled. "You want a drink?"

"I want you," he stated bluntly. "That’s enough for me."

It was darker at the front of the boat. The lights she had left on were near the water and she kept her eyes on him as she slowly peeled her wet swimsuit off, letting it pool at her feet. She knew that he could still see her, though, because the blue light from the jacuzzi made her see him. With a sly smile, she stepped down into the tub and sighed. "I’m the captain. I make the rules. Number one is no one bathes with their clothes on."

Even beneath the water, with the ripples distorting her body, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. "If I take my trunks off ... then we’re doing this, Callie. And there’s no looking back. We’re official."

"Is that what you want? Think about what you’re saying. I’ve got baggage that you don’t even know about and what you do know about it pretty damn rough. I have to get a divorce, I have to-"

"I don’t care about that. Any of it. I care about here and now. Whatever comes ... as long as we’re together it doesn’t matter. It's us against the world, Gothika. And I can't think of a better partner."

"Then let’s not look back. Let’s not think about tomorrow of next week or next month. Make it official, Alex, because you’re enough for me, too."

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 16
*~*~*~*~*~

"You’re not supposed to get your arm wet, Cal."

"I’m wet all over, Alex. Particularly inside."

"Jesus Christ."

Alex was aware that Callie was watching his every move and he wondered if she could see his heart pounding beneath his chest. He loosened the tie on his swimming trunks and slid them down, kicking them gently aside. When he started to step in the water, she shook her head and held up her index finger, moving it in a circle. She wanted him to turn around. He smiled and obliged her, flexing the muscles in his ass until she whimpered. He looked over his shoulder and said, "See something you like?"

Her response was to run her warm, wet hand up his thigh and over his buttocks. She stood quietly and took a seat on the ledge of the hot tub and lightly bit his hip. He had not been expecting that and he turned quickly. She seized the moment, looked up into his eyes, and then lowered her mouth over the tip of his turgid cock. One hand gripped his wide shaft and she pumped him slowly, deliberately taking her time as her tongue massaged his taut flesh. Her other hand massaged his balls, cupping them, testing their weight.

Alex swallowed hard and watched as her cheeks hollowed with the force of her suction. She moved her hand and took him all the way into the back of her throat, never gagging. And then she swallowed and it was the most amazing feeling Alex had every experienced. When she began to hum, his legs almost buckled and he reached down, gripping a handful of her hair. "Oh god. If you don’t stop that I’m going to -"

She swallowed again and he tried to warn her, tried to pull away, but she didn’t let him. He exploded in her mouth and only when he stopped groaning her name did she pull back, licking him as she went. She slid her tongue along the underside of his erection and then let her teeth graze the still weeping tip as she looked into his eyes again. Finally, she moved back into the hot tub and beckoned him with the slightest tilt of her head.

He didn’t have to be summoned twice. Slipping into the water, he moved to the center of the warm whirlpool and pulled her into his lap. She wrapped her legs around him and he moved her head back, blazing a path of kisses over her neck and collarbone. He raised his legs, lifting her out of the water and feasted on her nipples. His tongue laved her sensitive flesh and she moved her arms, bracing them on either side of the tub as his hand slipped between them and his thumb found her clit.

She gasped and looked at him with hooded eyes before she kissed him. He didn’t seem to mind tasting himself in her mouth, because his tongue swept inside, flicking against hers in a way that made her tremble all over. She felt boneless when he finally moved to her neck again and then he lifted her from the water entirely and placed her on the contoured mouth of the tub.

He rose to his knees and kissed her again, palming her breasts, twisting her nipples with just enough force to make her bite her bottom lip. Then he spread her thighs and licked his lips when he saw that the black curls between her legs had been waxed into a small, delicate triangle. He had never seen anything more inviting. He ran his fingertips over the design and said, "Nice. Very nice."

When he lowered his mouth to her core, she moaned. And she watched him. She watched every stroke of his tongue, every rake of his teeth. She watched as he pulled back and licked two of his fingers, then glided them into her quivering mound. He met her gaze and held it when he fastened his lips around her clit and began to suck. Callie reached down, gripping his hair, urging him to move faster, but he had other things in mind.

He brought her to the cusp only to pull back and concentrate on her navel, which he ran his tongue around. His fingers were still inside her and he thumped upward, hitting her G-spot. She pushed at his head, silently pleading with him to return to her sensitive nubbin, which was throbbing with need. When he didn’t obey, she lowered her own hand and tried to take control, but he shook his head and pushed it away. "Wait for it."

"Alex, please? Please?!"

Dipping his tongue into her belly button, he smiled up at her, then moved his mouth to her knee. He nipped playfully for a moment, then slowly moved up her thigh again, leaving wet kisses in his wake. Finally, he took pity because she was shaking and he was afraid she was cold. He easily manipulated her G-spot again. She threw her head back when he latched onto her clit and sucked.

Hard.

She bucked up against his face, crying out, and her legs clamped around his head. And still ... he didn’t stop. He nursed at the nectar that flowed from her like a starving man and kept his fingers inside her as her vaginal walls constricted time and time again. Only when she stopped trembling did he ease his fingers from her and taste them. "I think I realize now what lines of deliciousness are, Elvira. And what a starving bear feels like."

Callie pushed herself into a sitting position and gazed down at him. Slipping back into the water, they kissed again, and the flavor of each other was a heady cocktail. Hands explored flesh, they could smell the lust between them, and when Callie heard him whisper her name, she slipped her legs around his waist and reached between them, guiding him into her still dripping passage. Then she squeezed with her muscles and slowly rocked until both of their toes were curling.

"I - I have condoms, Elvira."

"I take Depo-Provera shots. We’re good." She moaned and rocked against him. "We’re very, very good actually. Oh my god, Alex."

He reached below the surface and guided her hips. Soon the water was splashing out of the hot tub and they didn’t care or appear to notice. She rode him hard, thrashing violently, pounding her hips against his. It felt incredible to be submerged in warm water with her tight, much hotter body wrapped around him. He wanted to be in charge, though. Standing, with her legs still around his waist, he laid her back on the deck. He knew it was probably cold, but she made no sound at all when her back hit the water that they had sloshed out.

Pulling her legs up over his shoulders, he slammed into her. It was hard, hungry. Starving. She reached down and gripped at his thighs, saying, "Fuck. Harder, Alex. Fuck me harder."

He didn’t oblige. He moved down her body and devoured her clit again instead. He worked her flesh until she came again and only then did he thrust into her with the force and the power that she was still begging for. He watched as she reached up, gripping the railing of the boat tightly in her hands. She was writhing beneath him, pushing and straining to meet him halfway. Her grunts and groans were as loud as his own and her dirty talk was enough to make him pass out.

Alex knew, in that moment, that he would never feel the way he currently felt with any other woman. She was *his*. And he wanted nothing more than to be hers.

When he finally came, he growled her name and left a huge hickey on her neck. It was his mark, his brand, and he stared down at his handiwork with satisfaction. "Callie?"

"Alex?"

"I’m sleeping in your bed tonight." He laid his head against her chest, listening to her heart beat. "And every night from now on."

"I really don’t think we’ll sleep much if you do that."

"We’ll exhaust ourselves eventually."

"Are you exhausted now?"

"No."

"Prove it."

*~*~*~*~*~

Raphael hung up the phone and turned to Melana, who was watching him expectantly. Cam stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. Raph took a deep breath and said, "Quint found her. She was treated and released for an animal bite in Los Angeles."

"What kind of animal?" Cam asked, alarmed.

"They were not forthcoming with that bit of information." Raph laid his cell phone on the table and paced across the room. "I have people scouring the Carolinas because Miguel Santos provided us with her flight plan ... yet she was somehow treated in Los Angeles. *Los Angeles*. I think a broken kneecap would do that man some good."

"Stop." Cam glanced at this mother, then addressed his father. "Dad, leave her alone. I know that this is weird for you because Callie’s always been the best one of us -"

Melana scoffed. "You are as blind as your father, Cambyses. Your sister is a self-centered and-"

"Mother!" Cam cut across her. "Once again I am begging you to open your eyes. She hates to sing, but she did it for you. She didn’t want to go halfway across the country for medical school, but she did it for Dad. She has *always* put herself last where this family is concerned and then she got married and her husband forced her into last place again. She has earned the right to come first. Let her come first for a while and she will come home on her own a better person for it. When she’s ready!"

"Cambyses, if you are so insightful then perhaps you should crack open a Bible and review why your lifestyle choices leave you in no position to criticize anything that we do."

"I know it verbatim! You have force fed it to me since I came out! The Bible also says ‘judge not, lest ye be judged’ so clean up around your own doorstep before you try to clean mine! Or my sister’s!"

"Your sister is insane!" Mel cried.

"It’s apparently a hereditary gene that gets passed to all the women then because you are one crazy-"

"Stop it! Both of you," Raph snapped. He rubbed his eyes and sat down on the sofa. He was torn. Part of him wanted to let her fly and the other part wanted to capture her in a soft net and lock her up in a cage. If anything happened to her ... he would die. "Son, do you have any idea what’s in California? Why she would go?"

"Disneyland? The world’s largest rubber band ball?" Cam replied. One look at his father’s face had him backtracking slightly. "She would *like* the rubber band ball, okay? And Addison assured me that Alex cares about her."

"I knew it," Melana said. "I saw her with Alex. I saw the way he held her and I *knew* it. A mother knows why her daughter gets a certain look on her face. She was far too comfortable with him for it to be platonic. I could see it on both of them."

"Can you see it with George as well, Mother?"

Melana looked away and picked up Gucci, cradling him. "Raph, what will you do?"

Raphael sighed. "I’m going to sleep on it. It’s late and I’m tired. I’ll decide tomorrow whether or not to fly out to California."
"Don’t, Dad." Cam walked toward the door and added, "Because perfect moments are few and far between. She could be having one."

Melana waited until her son was gone before she sat down next to her husband. "Calliope chose her path and she should be forced to deal with the ramifications when she returns. And really, honey, driving yourself crazy over this is not doing you any good."

"Callie has never acted so capriciously."

"She’s never been married before either. She’s a different person now. A broken heart, no matter how late it comes, changes who you are for the rest of your life."

"I don’t like who she has become, mi vida. This is not my daughter. If I tell her to come home, she comes. If I ask her if she’s okay, she tells me the truth. She obeys, Mel. Always. What if she is drinking again? What if the injury she received is worse than the hospital let on? What if-"

"Don’t ask ‘what if’. Because it’s unwise to plant those ideas in fate’s heart. She’ll be home in a few days and perhaps she will be our Callie again when she returns."

"Were you able to reach George?"

"I left a message asking him to come to lunch tomorrow."

"What will we say to him, Mel?"

"Oh, you may sting like a butterfly, but I bite like a Great White. And this shark has a quite an arsenal of teeth."

"Yes, my love, you do."

*~*~*~*~*~

Addison tried Callie’s cell phone and left a voice mail. She tried to sound upbeat and supportive and asked that Callie call her back. Next, she called Alex’s phone and left a message on it as well. Twenty minutes later she crawled into the bed and flipped the television on. It was late and she was wide awake. She changed the channels, gnawing at her bottom lip, and then sat up a little straighter when she came across soft core porn. "Thank you, HBO!"

Her eyes darted left and right as if to verify that there was no one in the room to see her and she turned the volume a little lower for modesty's sake. Grinning, she flopped onto her stomach, her head toward the foot of the bed, and immersed herself in a lame ass story about King Dong that was dotted with random scenes of erotica. It was cheesy. It was horribly acted and her aching body responded to every scene. Well, except the ones that involved the guy in the grey ape suit. At any rate, she slipped her panties off and stroked through the curls at the apex of her thighs, mimicking with her hand what the man on television was doing with his ...

Someone knocked at her door and she leapt upward and hit the television so hard that she knocked it behind the stand it sat on. "Shit! Fuck!"

"Addison?!" Mark called. "What the hell was that noise?"

She left the television in the floor, still on, and yanked the door open. When Mark scanned down her body, she realized that she still had on a tight fitting short camisole, but her panties were flung over the lamp shade. His eyes widened and she quickly yanked him into the room, peeking into the hall to see if anyone else had seen her. When she turned, he was still looking her up and down. She put her hands on her hips and said, "What?"

"Since when do you have a heart?"

She looked bewildered and then remembered that Callie had invited her along for a wax, saying it didn’t hurt if you had a friend with you. Addison had screamed loud enough to make her own ears ring. Smiling, she cupped her hands over said heart. "What do you want?"

He pulled a pack of batteries out of his pocket and threw them on the bed. "I thought I’d help you out. You were walking around the hospital yesterday breathing fire and I know why."

Addison narrowed her eyes and picked up the package, turning it over in her hands as if she expected something else to be attached. With a devilish grin, she held them out to him. "Can you open them?"

"Open them?"

She nodded and bent to the nightstand, where she retrieved two dildos. One was bright purple, filled with gel, and the other was flesh colored and made of cyber skin. She unscrewed the backs on both and dropped out the old batteries. He was watching her every move and when she held her hand out for the batteries, she saw that he was licking his lips. She filled both vibrators and turned the purple one on, lowering it until it was against her breast.

She felt her nipple harden under the silk fabric and trailed it lower still, over her stomach and hip. "Mark?"

He made some kind of noise, his eyes never leaving her hands.

"It’s only fair that you watch. You did bring the batteries after all."

He pulled his eyes away from the vibrator, which she had slid against her clit, and looked into her eyes. "It won’t work. I’m not falling for it. We’re doing the sixty days."

"Can you help me remember?" She lay back on the bed, her legs spread wide. "Do I like this one or this one inside? Oooh, I think it’s this one. Yeah, it’s definitely this one. Daaaaamn."

Mark’s jaw tightened as she slipped the purple dildo gently into her and he saw her moisture when she pulled it out. Someone made a noise, someone who wasn’t Addison. Glancing to his left, he saw the television and smirked. Lifting it back onto the stand, he turned up the volume and watched as a man enjoyed two women at once. He knew she was watching as well because he heard her flop onto her stomach on the bed. "Porn, Ads?"

Her response was to grip his shirt and pull him down for a kiss. She knew she had him when he reached between her legs and removed the shivering toy, tossing it across the room. He flipped her onto her back and covered her body with his, devouring her mouth while his fingers filled the void at her center. "Addison," he growled, moving lower, yanking the camisole over her head.

He latched onto her nipple and sucked ferociously, not stopping until it looked rouged. Then he moved to her stomach and her fingers gripped his hair, pushing him to the spot she was dying for him to kiss. He feasted on her, pushing and pulling her to and from the edge until finally, he half stood, bringing her hips with him. And the change of pressure, the change of position, caused Addison to come so hard that she screamed and almost knocked him over when he legs stiffened against his shoulders.

Mark laid her gently back on the bed and picked up her vibrator, the flesh colored one, which he laid between her breasts. He enjoyed the view for a moment longer, loving the way the color had risen into her face, the way her chest rose and fell from her ragged breathing, and then he walked to the door. "I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Addy."

Addison jerked upright instantly. "What!? No! Mark, come on! This isn’t funny anymore."

He ran his finger over his lip tasting her all over again. "No, it’s definitely not funny."

"Stay! Please?"

"No. When we make love again you’re going to know that that’s what it is. I’m making love to you and it’s going to erase any doubt you have that I can remain faithful to you."

"But-"

"Sleep well, angel."

Addison watched as he closed the door behind him, then she slumped back on the bed and threw her arms over her face. "Gah!"

The throbbing began anew between her legs and she groaned, glancing at the television in time to see the ape-man catch the girl and try to kiss her. "Fuck it," she said and lifted the vibrator.

When she slipped into her aching folds, she closed her eyes and sighed, "Mark ..."

In the hallway, he leaned against the door and listened.

Life was good.

Incredibly *hard*, but good.

*~*~*~*~*~

Callie collapsed, boneless, against Alex’s chest. She had just taken the ride of her life. While she had been atop him, her brain had conjured an image of her straddling a 747 and flying, six hundred miles an hour, into an abyss that she had never dreamed possible. She had lost count of the orgasms. She had lost count of the positions and the many ways he could make her come, but she didn’t really care. It was exhilarating. All he had to do was brush against her and she was wide awake and ready for more.

Alex rubbed a hand down her spine and cupped her backside. She amazed him. The things she did with her body and the agility she possessed was uncanny. And she could go from fucking like a madwoman to snuggling against him in the blink of an eye, completely sated. He decided that’s how he felt: sated. She had touched something inside him, some place that sex had never reached before, and it was startling and wonderful at the same time. He had never had *anyone* possess all of him the way she had. She consumed him and he gladly surrendered to the flames.

"Alex?"

"I can’t talk yet. Talking requires breathing and you’ve taken my breath again."

"Good. I was going to say that we should sleep." She sat up and pulled the cover over them and settled into his arms, her head against his chest. "And I was going to say thank you."

"For?"

"You see me. You really, truly see me."

"How could I not?" He pulled her leg over his and rubbed her knee. "I’ve never felt like this before, Cal. It happened so fast."

"I have been accused of moving at warp speed before."

"Well, I think your timing is just fine and so is mine."

"Ohh, you’re a poet." She kissed his jaw and looked at him. "I wish that you had asked me out months ago. It just - it feels like it was supposed to be you and me all along. Like, kismet or something. Is that stupid?"

"No. Stupid would be to ignore it, Gothika. And I won’t let either one of us do that."

Grinning, she nodded and laid her head back down. She was just dozing off when she heard him whisper something. It was soft, almost too low for her to catch it, but it was there.

He sleepily murmured, "I love you."

She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, until she heard him snore lightly seconds later.

Callie was still awake two hours later.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t believe in love again. Ever. Her mind convinced her it was a manufactured greeting card sentiment, a cheesy plot device in a movie, the theme of hundreds of dumb songs. Love had the ability to torment and torture and really, she reasoned, who would willingly do that to themselves. He certainly couldn’t expect her to believe in it after everything she had been through.

It had been post - post - post - post coital bliss that had forced the lie from his lips.

And she understood.

What they had shared had almost made a believer of her again.

But almost didn’t count.

Lust? Lust counted.

And she lusted for him very much.

*~*~*~*~*~

While Callie and Alex had never been morning people, they awoke with the sun and Callie was able to talk him into going for a swim with her. It was the first thing she could think of and she wanted very much to forget what she had heard the night before. She wore a solid black bathing suit that had a low, wide belt which rested on her hips. He wore his trunks and they played around for almost an hour, diving under, grabbing each other’s legs. After showering together and doing much more than bathing, they got dressed again and pointed the yacht toward a nearby marina.

They needed food. They needed to stock the ship with drinks, snacks, and the makings of several dinners. Callie had decided that once they started back toward Seattle, she didn’t want to stop unless it was to drop anchor *and* her panties. There would need to be a lot of stops. She didn’t want to hit land because on land ... they couldn’t be alone and she wanted to be alone with him for as long as they had. It was easier to forget the world when they only had each other for company.

Callie called a cab at the marina and then spent over nine hundred dollars on supplies. There was too much to carry in the cab, so the manager of the market agreed to deliver their purchases himself. Callie agreed, suggested that he wait a few hours, and then set about showing Alex what Malibu was all about. They ate Italian food and people watched until Alex finally saw a celebrity, John Travolta, and then they headed into a small boutique because Callie saw a slinky red dress that called her name. It would be perfect for the party that was rapidly approaching.

She bought him two more pairs of swimming trunks and had to sneak an adorable black Speedo across the counter to the clerk. He had adamantly refused when he saw her eyeballing it, but she’d make him wear it. She had no doubt that she could be persuasive as hell. They carried their purchases to the beach, where they waded in the water for a little while longer, then they headed back to the yacht.

The manager was waiting for them and he and Alex unloaded everything. The man practically burst into tears when Callie pressed five one hundred dollar bills in his hand. He thanked her repeatedly, telling her that she had saved his life. Callie smiled and said, "There’s a lot of that going around."

Alex watched the entire exchange with an amused expression. When the older man drove away, he kissed her. "You know, most people would look at you and think that you’re Elizabeth Bathory reincarnated. Aren’t you breaking the sacred Gothic scrolls or whatever by being so sweet?"

She glanced down at her clothing. She guessed that the red shirt she wore did have a Renaissance feel to it. It laced up the sides like a corset and made her cleavage look great. "I think that what we did last night proves that I’m more Bathory than sweet. Besides, I’m a perky Goth with you."
He stared at her breasts and nodded. "Very, very perky."

She kissed him and let him help her on board the boat. "I didn’t even realize that everything I bought for myself was so ..."

"Sexy and dirty? Exactly what a Marilyn Manson video should look like?"

"Pretty much. I thought I had outgrown it."

"Nah, you've always had this edge. At least since I first laid eyes on you." He led the way down into the salon. "They didn’t make chicks like you when I was in school. The whole Goth thing was not even cute back then. It was greasy hair, body odor, black nails, and a death stare that was-" He trailed off when she raised an eyebrow. "A lot like that, actually. How did you get into it?"

"I walked into a Hot Topic when I was about fourteen. It felt like coming home. I bought one of everything and then threw away anything that was pink or blue or *girly* in my closet. My parents controlled everything except my wardrobe. The more they tried the more I rebelled and the further I embraced it. And then, you know, it wasn’t just clothing anymore. It was a way of life. I got into The Cure and Depeche Mode. I rocked out to Johnny Rotten and all my friends in high school were just like me." She sighed and glanced down at her short black skirt. It was sewn through with red thread that matched the shirt beautifully. "Clothes like this are a second skin to me. I feel good in this and occasionally in scrubs."

"You look damn fine in both." Alex smirked. "And you looked great in that *girly* dress the other night. The turquoise one."

"That’s about as colorful as I go."

"I like you best in red."

"I’m going to wear red to the party that my mother planned."

Alex had bent down to grab a couple of the bags that had been delivered. He straightened clutching nothing except his stomach, which had fallen around his ankles. "You’re still having your elopement party? You’re still going with O’Malley where you’ll what ... pretend to be happy and-"

"No!" She shook her head back and forth. "It’s going to be a welcome home party now. For me. All my family is coming in and I didn’t have the heart to cancel it at the last minute."

"They’re coming here expecting to meet your husband, Callie!"

"So? I have a date lined up. He’s a great guy."

Alex had never been one for a fit of jealousy, but something surged through him when she said ‘date’ and he stood a little taller. "You’re going with me! I don’t - who were taking, Callie? Dr. Savoy? That fuckin’ Ken doll will get his ass kicked if he so much as looks at you. What -"

"My date used to be a wrestler in Iowa. He loves his mother, doesn’t like his dad, and got a bike one year for Christmas even though he asked for Disneyland." Callie grinned at him. "He’s also apparently been hiding the green eyed monster, but I think it’s very cute when it comes out."

"You are *evil*."

"Like I said, Jock Boy, I’m more Bathory than not."

"She killed people and bathed in their blood."

"I’ve thought about it. Does that count?"

"You’re making me horny. Stop it."

"Wanna play doctor?"

He said yes.

So they did.

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 17
*~*~*~*~*~

George arrived ten minutes late for lunch with Callie’s parents due in large part to the pacing marathon he had in the parking deck. He had almost called his mother to beg her to go with him, but he knew she wouldn’t. She had not returned any of his calls. When he entered the lobby, he immediately spotted Callie’s mother and feeling like a man walking to the electric chair, he moved slowly and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Hello, Mrs. Torres."

Melana put her hand on her hip and studied him. "Why if it isn’t Cheater. I didn’t think you would come. You have balls, George. I’ll happily remove them."

"That can wait," Raphael said, joining them. He narrowed his eyes at George and added, "As much as I’d love to rip your intestines out and choke you with them, I can’t deny my children anything and Cambyses called the honor this morning."

George’s mouth dropped open when Cambyses Torres joined them. He gazed up at the man, eyes wide, and didn’t blink at all. He resembled Callie, but he was wearing more leather than a human being should and he was solid muscle and ... and hair. His ice blue eyes were terrifying and his full lips were pulled back into a sneer. Swallowing hard, George held out his hand. "It’s nice to meet you, Cam. Callie, uh, she talks about you nonstop."

"The only way I would touch the hand of the man who hurt my sister would be if I cut it off and slapped you with it." Cam looked him up and down. "I’m surprised she didn’t beat me to it. There’s not much to you is there?"

George shifted uncomfortably and his eyes moved toward the door. If he ran, really fast, he could probably make it to the hospital with minimal damage. And hide. Cam seemed to read his mind because he reached out, grabbed the collar of his jacket, and pulled him into the restaurant where Blake was already waiting at a large, round table.

Blake stood and greeted George. "You must be the asshole."

"Apparently." George sat down. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Melana and said, "Have you heard from her? I mean - since she called the first night."

"No." Mel crossed her arms over her chest. "We know that she went to Los Angeles. She was injured and treated at a small hospital there."

"WHAT?" George put his elbows on the table and stared at Callie’s mother. "How? What happened to her?"

"Don’t tell him anything else," Cam said. "George, you lost the right to know *anything* about her. So don’t ask because we’re not telling."

"I’m still her husband."

"That’s easily rectified. And that’s why you’re here." Raphael put his briefcase on the table and pulled out an folder. "Washington is, thankfully, a community property state. Anything that you’ve purchased together, or that she has purchased for you, is considered divisible. I’m telling you to take it all. Anything that you two purchased is yours. You can also take her convertible and twenty-five thousand in cash. She wants out of this marriage. She asked me to begin the paperwork and here it is."

George stared at the folder. It scared him more than Cambyses. It put a pit of fire in his stomach that ached soul deep. "I don’t believe in divorce."

"You don’t believe in marriage either," Melana replied. "Marriage is about commitment and honoring your vows. Tell me, George, did you promise to forsake all others?"

"Yes." He swallowed hard when he remembered the way Callie’s hand had trembled in his while he spoke about undying devotion and cherishing her. "And I made a horrible mistake, but -"

"A mistake is when you balance your checkbook wrong," Blake interjected. "Cheating on the person who loves you and ripping their heart out ... that’s not a mistake. That’s attempted murder."

"Nicely worded, babe." Cam smiled and took Blake’s hand.

"I was listening to Rhianna on my iPod while I waited for you guys." Blake shrugged, then glowered at George. "But it’s still true, asshole."

Melana was studying Blake closely, wide eyed, but when he smiled at her, she quickly turned back to George. "It’s better if you agree to the divorce, George. We will pay for the entire thing and -"

"She’ll have to tell me this herself." George lifted his chin defiantly. "I have to hear her tell me that we’re finished."

"I would think that leaving town with a hot wrestler is a pretty good indication of where she stands," Cam told him. "You bring her down lower than she has ever been. She almost died because of you." He picked up the folder and held it out to George. "Take it. Look it over. I think you’ll find that we’ve been generous and considering the circumstances ... generosity is uncalled for."

George took the folder and laid it in his lap. "I know that this is hard to believe and I understand why ... but I love Callie. I really love her. And -"

"Then set her free," Blake interrupted. "Let her go. If you were meant to be with her then one day you will be."

George felt a lump in his throat and his eyes welled with tears. "This? This is attempted murder because losing her like this will kill me."

"Like this? You could have lived with her killing herself for you, but not this?" Cam raised a brow. "You better choose your words more carefully because you’re close to pissing me off."

"That’s not what I meant!" George snapped. "I - I can’t just give up without trying."

"You lied to her about the extent of your relationship with your mistress," Raph said. "She called me and told me. She said that you made her feel like trash. This is your chance to stop doing that to her, George. Take the papers. Look through them. Fill out any information that you feel is pertinent, but understand this ... my daughter always gets what she wants and if this is what she wants and you fight her ... then it will be a fight to the death. I’ll see to that."

"Dying would hurt less than this." George wiped the tears on his face.

"Apparently you made Callie think the same thing," Cam said. "And I think we’re done here. Take your papers and go."

It wasn’t until that moment that George realized that the waiter had never appeared to take their orders. He stood, handling the folder as if it contained a stool sample. "Can you at least tell me when she’s coming back."

"She’ll be home in time for her party." Melana saw her son in law’s eyes widen and added, "It’s no longer an elopement celebration. Your invitation is non-existent. This is a party for Callie, so that she can be surrounded by love for a change."

"*I* love her," George replied. "I love Callie. And -"

"If you gate crash this little shindig," Cam said. "It will be the last mistake you ever make. Now, go away, little gnat, before I swat you with something heavy. Like my boot."

Blake watched George walk away and glanced at Raphael. "You think he’ll sign it, Raph?"

"He’ll either use ink or his own blood. Either way, he’s going to let her go." Raph motioned for the waiter and said, "I believe that I can digest now. Let’s eat."

They ordered lunch and sat quietly for a few moments. Raph looked at Cam and said, "I’m going to leave her alone. Callie, I mean. She’ll come home when she’s ready. I won’t go after her."

"Good."

"That’s very noble, honey." Mel patted her husband’s hand and then looked at her son’s *boyfriend*. "Blake, that was quite an impressive display with the asshole. Wasn’t that what you called him?"

"Yes, ma’am." Shocked that Melana had addressed him at all, Blake hastily added. "Callie’s the sister I never had so I’ve got the over protective thing down to a science. I love her."

"I wasn’t aware that you two were so close."

"We are," Blake replied and if he was uptight in the least it didn’t show. "We usually talk about twice a week."

"I see. And what, pray tell, do the two of you have in common?"

"We both love Cambyses more than life itself. It creates a pretty strong bond."

Cam was watching his mother like a hawk. He also knew her very well. When her eyebrow arched high enough that it was hidden behind her bangs, he cleared his throat. "Mother, I’m still pretty happy over being able to threaten the asshole so can you not be a buzz kill?"

"What?" Mel asked innocently. "I was going to invite your - your - er, friend here to accompany me on a mission. I was supposed to be shopping for a dress with Louise, but considering that I want to hold her son down and suffocate him with a pillow, I can’t see us enjoying the day very much. Blake, we’ve never had the chance to get to know one another. Would you like to spend the afternoon with me?"

"Wolf in sheep’s clothing," Cam said in a sing-song voice.

"I’d love to, Mrs. Torres."

"Walking into the lion’s den," Cam continued in the same tone.

"You may call me, Melana, Blake." Mel reached out and pulled Cam’s hair, dragging him closer to her, but she was smiling. "And your sister has the voice, not you. So stop singing."

Cambyses grinned at her. "Looks like someone else has a buzz, too."

"There isn’t a woman alive who doesn’t enjoy bringing a bastard to his knees, son."

It had been years since Melana had referred to Cam as her son. It had also been years since she had smiled at him or touched him at all, really. He was elated. Reaching across the table, he put his hand on hers and said, "Mom, you could make the entire population of bastards not only fall to their knees, but worship at your feet."

"Yes, I know. Your sister has the same power apparently because Cheater was *broken*. And wasn’t it fun? I think I’ll have chocolate cake to celebrate his downfall."

"Okay, she scares me," Blake said softly.

Everyone at the table laughed.

*~*~*~*~*~

Domestication had its perks, Alex realized, on their fifth day together. He had never really gone to bed and woken up with the same woman more than once or twice, unless you counted Izzie which he refused to do. With Callie, he spent every waking and sleeping moment getting to know her. It was nice to notice subtle things about a lover. Callie liked to sleep with one hand under her cheek and she didn’t snore, but she did talk a little. Earlier that morning she had said ‘I’ve got femurs out the ass, Chief’ and it had caused him to laugh so hard it woke her up. She did *not* like being jarred awake and the look of death she had given him had caused him to laugh even harder ... which, naturally, led to sex.

Everything led to sex with Callie. Not that he was complaining.

There wasn’t an inhibited bone in her incredible body. She would bathe in front of him, cook naked in front of him, and they had even skinny dipped with the careless abandon of teenagers. They had behaved in a manner very unbecoming for two professional adults in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, but they kept at it for hours. Her favorite position was on top, but she had no complaints if he took charge or flipped her onto her stomach ... or pinned her against the wall. They had *both* enjoyed the hell out of the galley counter top. Twice. And she got a thrill out of sitting on his lap in broad daylight, with him deeply inside her, while boats sped around them.

No ... she was not inhibited at all, but that wasn’t the best thing about her.

She liked to watch the sunset, but because she liked sleeping in more, she happily missed the sunrise. She laughed easily, but could have the driest sense of humor and sarcastic wit that he had ever heard. Her favorite thing to do, besides sex, was to play her endless assortment of video games and Alex didn’t have to let her win ... she beat him every time on her own. She could talk about college football scores with the same passion she usually reserved for ‘The Goonies’ and she knew all the terminology for wrestling after hearing them only once.

She was, in Alex’s opinion, everything a woman should be. Tender and hard. Funny and sad. Annoying and endearing. And best of all ... she was the best friend and *lover* he’d ever had. He *loved* her.

As both.

He had noticed something else, though. Something he hated. She would meet his eyes while they did the most perverted things humanly possible, but after, when her body finally calmed down, she would pull away and quickly find something else to do. She only let him hold her afterwards if they were falling asleep in her bed. And she wouldn’t look at him for a long time, even if she was talking to him. The first morning after their hot tub romp, she had put sunglasses on almost immediately. He had been forced to pull them off her in the shower.

He didn’t understand it, but he knew *why* she was doing it and it had to stop.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Callie asking him something. He turned his head and looked at her. "What did you say?"

"Can you dance?" Callie repeated, then finished slicing the tomato she was working on. "I mean, really dance."

Alex set aside the lettuce he had pulled apart and grinned. "My mother and I used to dance all the time. She said I was the best partner ever."

"Was she being truthful or being a mom?"

"Come here."

Callie dried her hands on a dishtowel and followed him into the middle of the salon. They were listening to a local station that they had picked up and Nickelback was singing ‘Far Away’. Alex bowed slightly in front of her, causing her to giggle like a crazy person, and then he took her in his arms and swept her across the room in a very nicely executed waltz. When the song ended, he dipped her backwards and kissed her.

"You’re wrong," she told him, still bent in the dip.

He stood them both up and said, "I can dance, Elvira."

"I mean you’re wrong about why you were the big man on campus. Wrestling had nothing to do with it." She kissed his nose. "Can you salsa?"

"Didn’t we do that in bed last night?"

"Can you do it vertically?"

"A dance is just a conversation between two people. Talk to me."
"‘Hope Floats’. Get your own material, quote man." She smiled at him and slipped a CD into the player. She smiled a little when Selena’s ‘Amor Prohibido’ began to play. It was a fitting song. "Now follow my lead."

She stepped forward. He stepped back. She swung her hips. He did the same. It took less than thirty minutes for him to catch on and when he did, he spun her out and back again, then his hands traced the contour of her hips in her swimsuit as they moved as one. She put her back to his chest and wiggled her ass against him, reaching behind her to grip his ass.

"Jesus, Callie. If this was a conversation between two people ... it would be outlawed in almost every state."

"Almost?"

"We’re gonna make it legal in Washington."

She turned and lifted her leg against his hip and he caught her behind the thigh and pulled back, stretching her into a half split as he went. Throwing her head back, she shimmied her shoulders and then came up fast, just in time for ‘Bitty Bitty Bom Bom’ to end. "I think you can salsa, Alex."

"I feel like we just had sex."

"Latin dances are notoriously sexy. This one’s mild in comparison."

"There are more?"

"Oh yeah. The cumbia, the mambo, the rumba."

"A mambo dancing Elvira."

"A waltzing jock. We’re both a walking oxymoron." Her stomach grumbled as she added, "We also forgot lunch."

"Wanna forget it a while longer?"

She smiled at him. "We should probably get a little more exercise before we eat bread."

The ‘exercised’ for close to an hour. Alex gazed down at her sweaty face and brushed her hair off her forehead. She didn’t meet his eyes.

He didn’t like it.

At all.

They ate their sandwiches on the deck. When Callie started the engine, brought up the anchor, and accelerated north, Alex frowned. "Every time you move this thing we get that much closer to Seattle."

"I know. I’ve purposely taken us away from land to make it last a little longer." She made a face. "But tomorrow we’re going to stop in San Francisco for the entire day. That should delay us a while."

"San Francisco? Why?"

"Well, there’s Alcatraz, Chinatown, the Golden Gate Bridge, and streetcars. There’s also a wax museum and the zoo kicks ass. I’ve seen it all, but I’ve never seen it *with* someone. Someone not related, I mean. So, if you want to sightsee I can totally get on board with that. I think you’d like it."

"I am sightseeing." He looked her up and down. "And I like it very much. But if you wanna play tour guide I’m in. Alcatraz, huh?"

"I knew you’d pick that. We’ll do the night tour. It’s scarier."

"It’s supposedly haunted, right?"

"Supposedly. But if you were a ghost would you really want to haunt a place like that? Four by eight cells, creepy fog, and it smells like death and piss. All the time. I’d rather haunt the water around it like Moaning Myrtle." She glanced at him and saw that his brow was furrowed. "Holy shit! I’ve finally stumped you!"

"Who or what is a Moaning Myrtle?"

"I *so* win. Go me!" She did a little dance in her seat. "Harry Potter. I am the champ!"

"I knew I should have read those damn books."

"She was in a couple of the movies, too. You *must* read the books though, Alex. They’re amazing." Smiling, she added, "Are you scared of ghosts?"

"Not at all." He swiveled in his chair so he could watch her. "Are you?"

"I don’t get scared. I lack a fear gene, remember?"
It was the perfect opportunity for Alex to respond with something that had been on his mind since they’d been together earlier. He seized the moment with both hands. "You’re scared of me. I can tell. You hold back just a little, just enough to make me worry."

She was shocked and quickly looked at him, then the horizon. "I do not."

"You don’t look at me after we have sex. You don’t strike me as the type to be bashful so it’s gotta be one of two things: you either regret it a little or you’re afraid of me and what I feel for you."

Callie swallowed and kept her eyes straight ahead. "You’re imagining things."

"Am I? Are you sure?"

"Of course I am."

"Look at me."

She shook her head. Her heart had lodged itself in her throat and she hated what was inevitably coming. Apparently this was *the* talk. "I have to watch what I’m doing. I’ll hit something."

"You told me when we dropped anchor last night that we were forty miles from the coast." Alex glanced out the windshield. Four sailboats dotted the water, but were far enough away that it would take several minutes to reach them. Standing, he slowed the boat to a stop himself, then took the key out of the ignition and turned her chair to face him. "Look at me, Callie."

She took a deep breath and met his eyes. "I’m looking."

He squatted beside her chair and took her hand. "This isn’t a fling for me. What we have ... it feels real. I think it is. And I know we keep saying that it’s fast and that we didn’t expect it, but I think I knew that I would fall for you when I picked you up and drove you to the hospital the night you almost died. It wasn’t just the gas in that car that got you there ... it was me. I think I could have outrun the wind on foot to make sure you were okay. It’s real. And I lo-"

"Oh, Alex, don’t." Callie stopped him with a hand over his mouth. She closed her eyes tightly. "Don’t say it. Please don’t say it."

He pushed her hand away. "You need to know where I stand! You need to know that because of what I feel for you ... I will *never* hurt you! So let your guard down! And *look* at me!"

"No." Callie got to her feet and moved past him. She walked to the back of the boat, running both hands through her hair. "Damn it, Alex! Don’t do this! Don’t make it weird! Don’t make it complicated or -"

"Or love you? Is that what you’re saying? You don’t want me to love you?"

"I don’t believe in love." She looked at him then, nostrils flaring slightly. "We’re good together, Alex. We’re having fun and when we get back to Seattle I want you in my life, but-"

"How do you want me in your life? Do you want me to be someone you call when you need your itch scratched or do you want me ... all of me?" He waited for her to say something and when she didn’t, he tossed her the keys. "That’s what I thought you’d say."

"Alex-"

"What?! People don’t take enough chances in life. You - you live your life for other people and the only chances you take are the ones that could kill you. You’d rather fly through a storm than trust me. Do you know how that makes me feel? I’m offering you a chance to start over with someone who *gets* you, with someone who *needs* you." He shook his head. "If I can’t love you what does that leave me?"

"I don’t know."

"Right."

Callie watched as he yanked open the door to the living quarters and disappeared down the stairs. She sat down on the lounger behind her and put her face in her hands. She had known that this was coming and had been dreading it like hell. She had known that Alex was getting invested, that he wanted more and she had encouraged it anyway. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she knew that she wanted to be with him. Just ... not all the way. She couldn’t do all the way again because all the way meant that you only got pieces of yourself back when it all fell apart.

And nothing was forever.

For most of her life she had been the cynical one. She didn’t need a man to complete her. She was strong, independent, and she didn’t care because she was used to being alone. The poison of loving someone had killed the romantic dreamer she had become and put the cynic firmly back in place. It was a welcome relief to not have her heart involved.

‘That’s a lie,’ she thought. ‘You know good and damn well that you want to go downstairs and make love until you’re too sore to move. Because that’s what it is. You make love with him. You never really made love to George because he was in love with his friends. Coward. Would it really be so bad to fall again? You’re ready to fall. Just do it.’

Something splashed in the water behind her and she turned in time to see a dolphin. As she watched, several more began to spyhop, peering at her, splashing water at the yacht. She smiled and let the ladder down, then sat on it, her legs in the water. It took a while, but finally one of the larger dolphins came close enough for her to touch it. It darted away quickly when she ran her hand along its side, but returned just as fast, popping up between her knees.

"Hey there, you." Callie rubbed it on the head, tracing a scar that cut a mean looking crease. "If I come in the water are you gonna hurt me?"

The dolphin moved a little higher, butting at her hand. Another popped up beside it and she reached out, patting it as well. "I don’t have any food. Probably shouldn’t feed you, though, because most people aren’t as nice as me and might try to catch you. It’s not fun to be caught. I used to think it was. But when you’re caught ... you drown in shallow water every day."

She threw caution to the wind when the first dolphin went under and brushed against her leg, then appeared again. It was an open invitation and she slipped off the ladder, staying close to the boat. Just. In. Case. All at once, she was surrounded. The dolphins knocked into her, not hard, but rubbing at her body with their noses, with their sides. The same scarred porpoise surfaced right in front of her and splashed water in her face. She laughed out loud then and splashed back.

It rapidly became a game and all the dolphins wanted to splash and be splashed.

And their game took them further and further from the yacht.

Finally, winded, Callie rubbed the porpoise who had approached her first and said, "Did you know that dolphin is actually a Greek word? It’s really delphis and it means a fish with a womb." The animal looked her right in the eye and she smiled. "I’m an idiot. I’m talking to you like you know what I’m saying."

It splashed her again and she chuckled. "Okay, maybe you do."

She dove under and kept her eyes open, the salt burned, but the dolphins dove with her and she wanted to see them. She did a few flips under water, swimming like she had been born to do it, and when she surfaced again, the pod surfaced as well and blew water from their blow holes. They began to make noise as well and Callie felt like she was on top of the world and whistled at them. It intrigued them and they changed their sounds so Callie emulated them, laughing, when they watched her closely.

The mood of the animals changed so suddenly that Callie, dog paddling, began to feel uneasy. She glanced behind her and groaned. She had not put the anchor down on the yacht and the tide had carried it at least fifty feet away. The dolphins began to swim in a tight circle around her and she looked left and right, her heart thumping. She knew what that meant ... she knew it into her gut.

When the shark fin surfaced between her and the boat, she could only stare at it. It was large and moving slowly. It went under the water suddenly and she froze and promptly sank. Something brushed her leg and she screamed when she clawed her way back to the surface, the sound ripped from her throat hard enough to make her eyes water. "Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god ohmygodohmygod."

The scarred dolphin popped up in front of her and she looked at it. "I’m going to die," she whispered. "And I don’t want to."

"Callie?!"

She could see Alex on the boat now and she waved her arms frantically. "Shark! Alex, bring the boat!"

"WHAT?"

"SHARK!"

And then she screamed again because instead of bringing the boat, he dove into the water and began to swim toward her. "NO! NOOO!!!"

Callie swam harder than she had ever done in her life. The dolphins stayed close, still circling and when she finally made it to Alex, she yelled, "There’s a shark! Big! We have to get on the boat!"

The dolphins closed ranks around them as they headed back for the yacht. Alex stayed beside her and they were ten feet from the ladder when the shark resurfaced, blocking their path. He pulled out of a breast stroke and grabbed Callie, who was starting past him. "Holy mother of God," he said. "Baby, do not move."

The dolphins swarmed past them and the shark swam faster toward the nose of the yacht. Alex pushed her toward the ladder. "Go! Callie, go up the fucking ladder. Now!"

She was staring, wide eyed as the fin vanished again. "Alex-"

"GO!" Alex gripped her arms, pushing her until she gripped the ladder and scurried up it. He practically flew up the side of the yacht. They both stood, gazing down, as a huge great white bit the ladder a moment later and let go.

Callie’s legs buckled and she collapsed against the lounger. Alex sat beside her, breathing hard. Neither spoke for several minutes. When she could finally breathe without the threat of swallowing her tongue, she said, "I didn’t even think. We’re near the Farallon Islands and ... and the seals there ... they attract sharks." She touched his arm. "Are you okay?"

"No, Callie, I am not okay." He rubbed the salt water out of his eyes, which were red and still wide with fear. "I heard you scream and -" He looked at her. "Are *you* okay?"
"I’m pretty sure that I’ll have grey hair tomorrow, but I’m all right."

"That thing was at least fifteen feet long. You could have been killed."

"We both could have, Alex! Why the hell didn’t you just bring the boat?! Why did you jump in?!"

"You told me not to say it so I won’t, but that’s why. I figured I could get to you faster than the boat."

"You jumped right where the shark was! God, it scared me so bad. If anything happened to you-" She hugged him then, holding on for dear life. "That’s twice now that you’ve saved my life."

"And twice that you’ve tried to throw it away." He pushed her arms off him and stood. "I - I think that we should just skip San Francisco and go home."

"But-"

"We’ll always have Disneyland."

*~*~*~*~*~
CH 18
*~*~*~*~*~

Callie sailed the yacht just off the Farallon Islands before she dropped the anchor and sighed. Her hands trembled as she took the key from the ignition and she envisioned the shark again. She had come close to dying. So had Alex. They had practically looked the Grim Reaper right in the eye. When she had woken up in the hospital and was told that she could have died, she had taken the news with a grain of salt. She genuinely didn’t *care* either way. Life and death had become interchangeable things in her mind that left her all alone either way ... whether it was in the ground or in her marriage. In Vegas, George had been a good husband. In Seattle, George had not been a husband at *all*. She was alone. Whether it was six feet under or over was of no consequence to her at the time.

It didn’t really feel like a suicide attempt. Not exactly. She had just wanted to rest for a while ... but waking up had been ... well, a disappointment. She had been honest with her parents. She wouldn’t have minded dying. Even by her own hand. Life had stepped out of her control and she wasn’t willing to fight for it. She was exhausted. The thought of everyone knowing that Izzie Stevens had stolen her husband, the thought of women looking at her the same way she looked at *those* women who let a man walk all over them ... all of it ate at her every waking moment. Maybe a little part of her had figured that if she died in the parking garage ... she wouldn’t be a laughingstock. She’d still be pathetic, but no one would laugh.

Maybe.

‘No, it’s not a maybe. You knew. You wanted it to end,’ she thought. ‘You knew it when you bought the second bottle.’

The truth settled into the pit of her stomach like a ball of acid when she finally admitted it to herself and she put a hand over her mouth, her eyes welling with tears. She had wanted to die. She knew that she had consumed enough alcohol in the first bottle to do it, but she still opened the second and poured more down her throat. She had been thinking about death, about ceasing to exist.

She had also been thinking that she wanted to go ahead and take George back that day, but not for the reasons she should have. George had the endearing family and Callie had loved Harold very much; she had talked to Harold about love a million and one times. George was adorably awkward and so cute at times that it hurt. George had been the heart in the elevator guy, but that didn’t mean he knew how to handle the heart of a woman who had never given hers away before. And Callie *had* loved him. With all she had. She had loved him enough to settle into second or third place just for a moment of his time.

Callie was not built for second or third place, though. Her entire life ... she had refused to settle for less than the best for herself. In medical school, even though she didn’t want to be there, she had excelled effortlessly. She had refused to *do* less than that. Her father had instilled a sharp sense of integrity and unshakeable dignity into her. She put her mind to something and she succeeded without fail. She wanted to fly planes so she did. She wanted to scale mountains so she did. And she did it to be best of her abilities.

She didn’t know HOW to fail.

She had taken George back simply because she couldn’t stand the thought of losing the war.

To Izzie Stevens.

It shocked her now ... how easy it was to think of George doing God knew what with Izzie. Or anyone else for that matter. A part of her love had died with his admission of infidelity and he had taken the little that remained and threw it back at her by lying to her again. Seeing him with Stevens in the stairwell had been the eraser she needed. He was gone from her heart, from her mind, and she was sad and relieved. She was hurt and elated. She was shocked and soothed.

She could breathe without him just fine because the air was cleaner.

And Calliope Iphegenia Torres wanted to breathe. She wanted to live.

It had taken a fifteen foot shark to truly wake her up enough to take stock, but it had worked. She wanted to *live*.
She didn’t have to wonder why.

Her reason was on the yacht with her.

Alex listened to her and heard what she was saying even if he had to read it between the lines. He had conversations with her that weren’t always about his friends or himself. He asked her questions, he laughed at her quirks instead of questioning them, and he never made her feel bad about herself. If she did gain weight again ... he would *like* her curves the same way she had made peace with them because it was a Torres thing and he seemed to like that she was a Torres. And she knew, better than she knew how to fly, that Alex would have stood up against her parents and shot down the rehab idea. George, once again, had sided against her, this time choosing her parents over her. She was perpetually last with George ... or as close to last place as she could get and still be on the scoreboard.

Alex, she realized, gave her roots and wings ... just like her plane. He supplied her with the inner-strength and support to take flight, but gave her a safe place to land when she was tired. Or when she needed two strong arms around her. He had seen her at her best and enjoyed the hell out of the view, but he had also seen her at her worst and never once looked the other way. He looked into her when she hurt and knew how to fix it. He didn’t run, didn’t push her away, and he knew when to give her space.

Alex *knew* Callie more than George had ever attempted to know her.

And she had shot him down.

Standing, she gazed down at the water. He had jumped in to save her even though he knew that a shark was present. He had been willing to die with her the same way she had been willing to die with Cambyses all those years ago when they had sank the yacht. She had been willing to die with Cam because she loved him. She knew what love felt like and she had lied to Alex by saying she didn’t believe anymore.

Callie believed.

She believed with every fiber of her being that the heart she had taken back from George was tattered and torn, shell shocked and scarred, but it belonged to Alex Karev and there was nothing she could do about it. He had gotten into her and she couldn’t, wouldn’t, push him back out.

Making up her mind, she nodded her resolve and headed below deck. The door of the starboard bedroom was shut and she knocked lightly. "Alex? Can I talk to you? Please?"

She knocked again when he didn’t answer. "I didn’t mean what I said to you earlier and - and I don’t want to have Disneyland. Not that Disneyland wasn’t perfect because it was and I loved it, but, I want San Francisco, Alex. And I want Seattle, too. With you. I - I didn’t try to throw my life away by going in the water, but I know that I’m throwing it away if I don’t take this chance. I want to take a chance with you because I *do* trust you and I do lo-"

"Don’t say it. If I can’t then you can’t." Alex spoke behind her, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. He had to fight hard not to smile, but somehow he managed.

She turned quickly and looked up at him. "You can say it. I won’t freak out again."

He walked past her and sat on the leather sofa in the salon. He was going to make it very hard on her because almost dying for someone gave you the *right* to bust their chops. Especially when they deserved it. Besides, it could be fun to watch her squirm. "No. I don’t think I’ll be saying it again."

She had been walking toward the sofa as well, but his words made her pause. "You mean ever? Or right now?"

"I don’t know."

"You don’t know?"

"Wasn’t that what you said to me when I asked you what was left if I couldn’t love you?"

Her eyes widened. "Please don’t throw my words back at me. I know you get off on the quoting thing, but can you say something original? I’m trying here. I’m trying to meet you halfway and explain that I get it. I finally get it."

"What do you get?"

"Us."

"What exactly were you getting when you asked me to come on this trip? What were you getting when you had sex with me? Besides off, I mean." He waited for her to answer, but she didn’t. "You don’t want to talk now? I can’t say that I mind. So far you haven’t said anything I really want to hear."

"That would be because you won’t stop running your mouth, Jock Strap! I am trying to tell you that I’m ready! I am ready to do this with you!" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Though your attitude is making me contemplate tossing your ass back in the water."

He narrowed his eyes. "I’d like to see you try."

"I can’t think of a better thing to say than fuck you."

"We’ve covered that already. Many times and many ways." He tilted his head a little, trying to hide his amusement. "Are you going to apologize for almost getting me killed?"

"No, smart ass, I’m not going to apologize because *you* are the one who jumped. Not me."

"Oh, right. You just fell off the boat and-"

"I was *playing* with dolphins."

"Can you explain to me why you would choose to go *play* with dolphins instead of coming down here and apologizing to me? We had a fight. It was a bad one." He opened his arms wide. "And I know that my dramatic exit was Oscar worthy and that was your cue to follow me and talk to me."

"I didn’t know what to say!"

"How about an apology? The one I’m still waiting for."

"I’m sorry that you don’t have any common sense and almost killed yourself for me."

He put his hand over his heart. "That was so touching. You know, if you’re into being rubbed the wrong way."

"I’ve been sleepwalking, Alex. Okay? And I finally woke up."

"Could you make sense? At least a little?"

Callie glared at him and then took a seat beside him, crossing her legs. She angrily waved her foot back and forth and said, "I am not a stupid person. Granted, the past few months have been an orgy of stupidity for me, but I am not a stupid person. I know that it’s idiotic to leap from one failed relationship into a new one without so much as a backward glance." She met his eyes. "But I’m not looking back and I don’t want us to fail because as much as it pains me to admit that a jock could make sense ... you do. So I’m in this. All the way."

Alex couldn’t hide his smile any longer. He smirked at her, but it faded when she picked up a pillow and hit him with it. "WHAT?" he snapped, catching it before she could hit him again.

"Do not laugh at me!"

"Laughter is out loud. I didn’t make a sound."

"I take it back. I don’t like you. At all." She shot to her feet and was headed for her bedroom when he caught her around the waist. He executed a wrestling move that had her on her back with her arms pinned over her head in less than three seconds and she tried to buck him off. "Alex, so help me God-"

"You better pray, Cal, because the things that I’m going to do to you will secure your ticket to Hell. Save me a spot." He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head. He devoured her neck instead. "You like me, Gothika, you really, really like me. You pretty much told me so."

Callie glared at him. "You know, I think I’m going to get the fish out of the freezer and chum the water before I push you in."

"You’re not in any position to push, baby," Alex replied, grinding his hips against her center. "But I am."

She finally smiled up at him and shook her head. "No. We’re not having sex of any kind until we finish this conversation."

"Nothing says ‘I’m sorry’ like multiple orgasms." Alex leaned down to kiss her and this time she didn’t pull away. He put everything into it and when he pulled back, he was breathing hard. "I’m sorry, by the way."

"For which part?" she asked. "There are so many things you should apologize for."

"For telling you we’d always have Disneyland."

"It was a nicely executed breakup. Oscar worthy."

"That wasn’t a breakup." He rubbed his nose against hers. "You’re so cute when you’re pissed."

"Well, you seem to be keeping me that way."

"You’re even cuter in the throes of passion."

"You seem to be keeping me that way as well."

"We do need to talk." He kissed her neck again and let her arms go. She hugged him and he rolled them slightly so that she was lying in the crook of his arm. "I thought that shark had bitten you, Cal. I’ve never heard anyone scream like you did."

"I thought it had bitten me, too." She put her hand on his lower stomach and rubbed the tight muscles there. "That was a scream for life. I didn’t want to die. Not this time, Alex."

He tensed up beside her. "But you did last time? No ... don’t answer that. Because if you say you did then I’m going to get pissed and -"

"Then you’ll have to get pissed because I need to tell you this. I knew what I was doing. I knew it was enough to end it. I - I wanted to." She pushed herself up on her elbow and gazed down at him. His jaw was tight and he was staring at the ceiling. "But you called and I answered. My phone rang twenty times and I only answered you."

He took a deep breath and looked at her. "Death cannot stop true love. It can only delay it for a while."

"You’re a great Westley." She smiled. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Knowing what you know now about what I did," she said. "Would you have agreed with my parents and told me to go to rehab?"

"No." He studied her face. "What you did - you don’t need to be shut away from the people who love you. What’s that gonna do besides make you feel more alone? You’re not alone. I’m here. I’m always here. And I would have told your parents to kiss your ass and then mine."

"That’s hot."

"What is it with rich chicks and that phrase?" Alex held her a little closer. "It’s my turn to ask something."

"Go ahead."

"When we get back to Seattle and go to work it’s going to be weird for a while. People are going to talk and have opinions and judge us. Are you okay with that?"

"I’m fine with it. Are you?"

"I don’t give a shit what people think, but it won’t be as hard on me. I’m not married."

"I told my dad to get the divorce started. He will."

"And you’re going to sign it and be done. Just like that?" He was looking at the far wall now.

Callie turned his face so she could see him. "Izzie once told me that my marriage was just a piece of paper. Truer words were never spoken. I hate her and she’s always been a bitch to me, but she was right. And I’m going to shred that paper myself and then sign whatever I have to so that I can be with you with nothing hanging over us."

"That works for me." He pulled her on top of him and put his arms behind his head. "So, we’re going to Alcatraz tomorrow. What else are you gonna show me?"

"The future," she replied, leaning down to kiss him. When she sat back up, she peeled her bathing suit off her shoulders and down around her waist. "One mind blowing orgasm at a time."

"That actually works for me too."

"I thought it might. Wanna see just how flexible I am?"

He nodded.

And was amazed.

*~*~*~*~*~

George sat at the Emerald City Bar. He looked at Joe and nodded, holding up his shot glass. The folder that contained his divorce papers sat in front of him and he had looked at them enough to burn the image into his brain. The Torres family had decided to buy him out. As Joe filled his glass, George said, "They’re offering me twenty-five thousand and her car. And everything we bought while we were married. Which ... wasn’t much. You know? Mostly room service and clothes and stuff."

Joe heard the way George slurred his words and set the bottle back behind the bar. "I’m cutting you off. That’s your last drink of the night."

"She’s with Alex. Did you know that? My wife is with Alex Karev. I stopped counting the days and how many times they’ve probably -" He trailed off and grabbed his head. "I’m not drunk enough to think about it."

Tossing his towel over his shoulder, Joe reached out and gripped George’s shoulder. "You need to eat something. You want a sandwich? Some hot wings?"

"I want to go back in time and erase what I did."

"I can’t help you with that, buddy."

"Do you know what it’s like to be left?"

"Yeah."

"Did you cause it?"

"I was left for someone else. That’s about as low as a person can feel, I think."

George emptied his glass. "I never thought about leaving her for Izzie. I just - I never thought. You know? It was meaningless sex."

"You drunk dialed me that night. You and Izzie. Izzie said that you were mad at Callie and needed her to make you like her again, but she couldn’t because Callie was a fat insecure bitch. You agreed with her, George, but you added that she was a psycho mistake and a ferret loving whore."

"I don’t remember that!"

"I’m not surprised. Alcohol loosens the tongue. I see it every night and most of the time the things that get said are brutal, but they’re still a reflection of how you feel."

"I - I didn’t mean whatever I said." George put his head in his hands. "What do I do, Joe?"

Joe leaned on his elbows in front of the other man. "I can’t tell you what to do. I can only tell you that in my opinion you got married really fast and it was right after your dad died. And I have witnessed first hand the way that Izzie treats Callie and you never said a word to stop it when it happened. I know that you saw it, too."

George had to nod. He held his glass up and said, "Just one more?"

"How are you getting home?"

"I’ll drive him."

George glanced to his left. Nurse Olivia had taken a seat beside him and was gazing at him with sympathy. "Hey," he said.

"Everyone knows," she told him. "Good news travels fast."

"What is that supposed to mean?" George asked her, then noticed that Joe had walked away without filling his glass again. "Damn it."

"You’ve had enough. You’ve had enough of Callie, enough of a dead end marriage, and enough to drink. So, stop." Olivia put her hand on his. "Just stop."

George looked at her, leaning his chin against his palm. "You hate her, too. Everyone hates her."

Olivia shrugged. "I didn’t hate her until she stole you."

"I wasn’t stolen. I went willingly."

"No, you didn’t. She forced your hand. Everyone who knows you saw that she was overbearing and clingy. She’s toxic, George. She is. And you’re better off without her."

"Don’t call my wife toxic."

"Don’t call her your wife. Nurse Tyler saw her making out with Alex in an empty room the other day. They were all over each other."

George blinked. "No. No, you’re wrong."

"I saw them in the stairwell myself."

George felt his stomach turn over and laid his head on the folder. "Are you sure?"

"I’m positive. It was - it was right before they confronted you and Izzie. Right before they left town. They came into the stairwell and I was a floor above them taking a break. I looked down in time to see them kissing."

George looked at her. "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah." She dug through her purse, found one, and then watched as he scribbled in the file. "What’s that?"

"Divorce papers."

She patted him on the back and her hand lingered over his neck. "I don’t have to take you to Meredith’s house."

George closed the folder and looked at her. "Good, because I was going home with you."

"Then let’s go."

He stood and wobbled on his feet.

Olivia linked her arm through his and he stopped her, kissing her roughly in the middle of the crowded room.

They had sex in her car in the parking lot of the bar and again at her apartment.

And he didn’t lose his erection once.

*~*~*~*~*~

"Good morning, Jock Strap." Callie kissed Alex softly on the forehead and put the tray over his legs. "I made waffles. Belgian ones."

"Good morning, Morticia." Alex rubbed his eyes and pushed himself upward, looking down at the elegant spread of food she had brought into the bedroom. "You get that I’m over our fight, right?"

"I do." Callie sat between his outstretched legs, the tray of food between them. She smothered the waffles with syrup, cut into one, and held it out to him. "Go ahead. Tell me I can cook."

"You proved that last night with the pork chops. You think I could lick the syrup off your belly the way I did the barbeque sauce?"

"If we do that we’ll never see the city."

He grinned at her, his mouth still full. "Is that why you’re up so early?"

"I sailed us a little closer. If you eat fast we can see the sunrise." She took a bite and savored it. "I want to kiss you when we go under the Golden Gate. My daddy said that any kiss under that bridge is a forever kiss."

"I thought we covered that kiss with our first one." He took another bite that she offered and then sipped his orange juice. The food was amazing, but the smile on her face was even more satisfying. Her cheeks were rosy and she was eating again so life was good. "You’re happy. I love seeing you this way."

"I love feeling this way. It’s more than happy." She fed him a slice of apple. "You should think about going into cardiology. You fixed my heart and I didn’t think it could be done."

"I’m only interested in hearts that talk to mine."

"You’re repulsively cheesy."

"And you love it."

"I do. I really do."

"What are we doing today? Besides Alcatraz?"

"I was going to suggest the aquarium, but I’ve had enough marine life to last a lifetime." She made a face. "If we do the night tour of the prison then we have all day to explore. The trolleys go everywhere important and they’re fun as hell to ride. I do want to go to Chinatown for sure. They have a place that cooks fresh fortune cookies that makes all of Ross Alley smell like heaven."

"There’s a Ross Alley in Chinatown."

"There is. There’s also a huge theme park over in the bay area, Paramount’s Great America, that has some kick ass thrill rides."

"Yesterday was a big enough thrill ride for me. And nothing is competing with Disneyland."

"Nothing, huh?" She gave him a knowing look. "Because I’m pretty sure that -"

"Stop it. Because if you start talking the way I think you’re going to start talking we will *never* leave this boat again."

"I won’t mind."

They missed the sunrise, but when they finally made it topside, Callie got her kiss under the Golden Gate.

They docked at a small marina and headed into the city, hand in hand.

And heart to heart.

*~*~*~*~*~

"It is too early in the morning for a cesarean. I’m boycotting for a while." Addison put a cup of coffee in front of Mark and sat down, arms over her chest. "I can’t do it. I can’t finish the sixty days."

"Yes, you can," he replied, flipping the page of his magazine.

"Oral sex is still sex, Mark. Unless you’re Bill Clinton. We had sex in my room. So ... let’s stop this nonsense and go to the nearest empty on call room where you can have your wicked way with me." Addison watched him hopefully. When he didn’t look at her, she yanked her glasses out of her pocket and shoved them on her face, then snatched his magazine. "Are you reading porn?"

He watched her flip to the cover of the Newsweek and picked up the coffee she had brought him, sipping it. It took all of his resolve to swallow it because it was the nastiest thing he had ever tasted. "Addison?"

"What?"

"We can have sex."

She pulled her glasses off and smiled triumphantly. He caught her arm when she started to stand. "Addison? We can have sex when you can make me a cup of coffee the way I like it."

Addy slumped back into her seat. "How do you like it? I’ll do it right now."

"That’s for me to know and you to find out."

"Oh, yay, we’re playing kindergarten and I didn’t get the memo."

He took his Newsweek back. "You didn’t get many memos at all, apparently. You don’t know me the way I know you. You’ve never cared to learn. If you had, you would know that I like to read a magazine, this particular magazine, before I head into a huge surgery. If you had checked the date when you looked at it then you would see that it’s the coverage of September Eleventh and you’d remember that Derek and I helped out at Ground Zero that day."

Addison chewed her bottom lip. "I do know you."

"Do you? What did I do after my dad died?"

"You - you went to Martha’s Vineyard with Derek’s family and skipped the funeral."

"Why did I do that?" He watched her, waiting for her response. When she didn’t reply, he added, "I went to Martha’s Vineyard because my mother planned a party instead of a funeral. She was dancing on his grave before it was even dug and she had all of her boyfriends lined up as dance partners."

"I didn’t think you were close to your father."

"I wasn’t close to any of them, Addison, but I’ve still got a heart. It would have destroyed him to see her parade her lifestyle right out in the open." He rolled up the magazine and clutched it in his hand. "Today is the anniversary of his death. I don’t remember dates as a rule, but this one is seared into my brain. My mother had Adam Teller over for dinner and I watched them go upstairs, knowing what they were going to do. I fixed my father something to eat and took it into the study, where they had set up a hospital bed for him. He was already gone. And she was laughing upstairs, she was always laughing."

"Oh, Mark." Addison took his hand. "I’m sorry."

"I went upstairs and caught her having sex. I called her a whore and left home. I never went back." He rubbed his thumb on the back of Addy’s hand. "I’ve always treated women as someone to enjoy and discard. I’ve always used sex to make me feel alive and, I guess, to punish all women because in a way, all women are just like her in my head. I’m the manwhore my mother made."

"Don’t. Don’t say that."

"You’ve said it. More than once. And you’re right, I am." He pushed a lock of hair off her cheek. "Only not with you. For the first time in my life I want the shackles and chains, Addison. I’ll even buy them myself because I love you."

Addison moved forward and kissed him. "I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time."

He grinned at her. "We’re still not having sex, but if you want to go to a movie later I’d like that. I don’t want to be ... you know, alone. Not today."

She nodded. "You’re not alone, Mark. Ever."


Mark kissed her again. "I hope you can figure out how I like my coffee by tonight because if you do ... you will be rewarded handsomely."

She traced the stubble on his face with her hand. "I already have been."



*~*~*~*~*~

George awoke with a warm, soft body pressed against his side. He opened his eyes and regretted it immediately. The light from the windows sent pain shooting through his temples and he groaned, clutching his head. The warm body shifted a little and then there was aspirin and a bottle of water and George looked up to thank Cal ... livia. It was Olivia.

The shock on his face was evident and Olivia rubbed his back. "It’s okay, George."

He took the pills and drank the water when he could think of nothing to say. He looked around her bedroom and spotted his clothing, which was tossed on every available surface. When his eyes found the folder ... he remembered signing the papers. Every last one of them. His eyes blurred with tears and he stood. "Where’s the bathroom?"

"Down the hall and to the right."

"I’ll be back in a minute."

George picked up his boxers and slipped them on. In the bathroom, he splashed water on his face and gazed at the pale, drawn man that stared back at him in the mirror. His eyes were red, rimmed with hollow shadows; the ghost of what had been had hung years on his face. He hated himself more in that moment than he had ever hated anything before. Self loathing was a small comfort, however, and he needed more.

After rinsing his mouth several times and wondering how anyone could pee as much as he did, he went back to Olivia’s room and grabbed his jeans. Olivia sat on the bed, watching his every move. He finally looked at her after he pulled his shirt over his head. "We’re late for work," he said.

"I called and told them you were sick and I was taking care of you." She let the blanket fall from her chest and crawled to the foot of the bed, naked. "I *can* take care of you."

George let her hug him, let her whisper in his ear that she had never stopped caring for him or wanting him. It felt good to hear it, to feel her hands on him, to feel her breath against his ear. He didn’t love her, he didn’t even like her very much, but it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered when you were at the bottom of the world.

He stayed for the entire day, blowing off work entirely.

And as he watched her ride him, felt her clench around him, he knew that he could never go back.

He wouldn’t let memories of raven hair or a tribal tattoo or a very bendy body take anything else from him.

There was nothing left to give up ... except his ring.

When Olivia drove him to Meredith’s later on in the day, his wedding band was in his pocket. He could feel it there, against his thigh. He kept brushing his hand over it. He kept rubbing the indentation on his finger and the flexing the digit as if it could make it go away, but he was relieved when it didn't.

Izzie came home and forced him to eat, forced him to talk to her about everything that had happened the previous day. She had cried with him, held his hand, and listened. It felt good to be Izzie and George again: friends without any complications.

She stood beside him a while later, as he sobbed over the toilet, vomiting, shaking ... because he had flushed his ring down the drain in a fit of rage.

And it was as lost to him as Callie was.

There would be no getting it back.

~*~*~*~*~*~
CH 19
Addison reached out of the empty conference room and grabbed Cristina Yang as she walked down the hallway. Cristina yelped and broke loose, looking at Addison in shock. "Personal boundaries! Personal boundaries, Dr. Montgomery. Half my epidermis is under your nails."

"You are working with Sloan today. Did he make you get him coffee?"

"Uh, no. I’m a doctor, not a waitress."

"He makes the other interns get him coffee."

"Oh, he tried to make me. I told him that if I got him coffee I’d make it hot and toss it on his crotch."

Addison blinked at her. "Nice, Dr. Yang."

"I thought so, too."

"Hey, did he happen to tell you how he takes his coffee?"

"Why? Are you his waitress?"

"I’m just important that I know."

"I can tell you if you can get me into Shepherd’s neuro surgery that starts in forty minutes. I’ve read all about it and-"

Addison pulled out her cellphone and dialed Derek. "Hey, have you got an intern yet for your surgery after lunch? No? Well, I’m finished with Dr. Yang and she needs something to do. She assures me that she is well versed on this procedure. Well, make room for her because she’s scrubbing in. Okay, I’ll tell her." She hung up and smiled. "You’re in."

"He asked me for a bone dry cappuccino and a Snickers bar." Cristina gazed up at the taller woman. "And you’re my hero."

"Yang?"

"Yeah."

"Where do I find a bone dry cappuccino?"

"Joe can make a mean one."

Fifteen minutes later, Addison bellied up to the bar and smiled at Joe. She ordered the coffee for Mark and the smile didn’t leave her face until Joe told her that George had kissed Nurse Olivia the night before. "What?"

"He left with her. Now, I don’t usually encourage gossip, but I know that you’re Callie’s best friend and well-"

"He kissed her?"

"He raped her with his mouth." Joe nodded. "He was drinking a lot and he had just signed his divorce papers, but still. I had to tell someone. You know, I tried to talk to him last night and tell him that I felt like the marriage was rushed and, well, I don’t think he loves her. You should have heard the names that he called her when they drunk dialed me. It was him and Izzie calling her fat and psycho. And a bitch. George called her a ferret loving whore. I hung up on them, but-"

"When was this?" Addison asked, nostrils flaring.

"It was the night that they did the thing that I can’t possibly talk about because I just ate."

"They called you and badmouthed Callie? Before they did it?"

"I don’t know if it was before or after, but it was horrible. I was so pissed."

Addison took the coffee and put a twenty on the table. "Keep the change, Joe."

Mark was in the scrub room and he glanced up when Addison pushed the door open. "Hey." One look at her face had him forgetting all about the surgery he was prepping for. "What happened?"

"Bone dry cappuccino." She held up the cup. "Is Stevens working today?"

"I think she comes in tonight."

"I need to talk to her."

He sipped the coffee and smiled at her. "You got the drink right, Ads. You know what that means?"

"Yeah, I’m very resourceful."

"You’re also mad as hell about something."

"I’ll tell you later."

Addison called Richard from the parking lot and told him that she had to leave for an hour. He didn’t ask why and she didn’t tell. She pulled up in front of Meredith Grey’s house and knocked on the door. Meredith answered and looked up at her in shock. "Hey, Dr. Montgomery."

"Where the hell is Stevens?" Addison asked, foregoing any greeting.

Izzie appeared behind Meredith and said, "I’m watching a movie. Why?"

Addison stepped past Meredith and slapped Izzie as hard as she could. It was hard enough to knock the clip out of her hair and Addison seized the moment, gripping a handful and holding the blond a few inches from her face. "If you *ever* call my best friend anything other than Dr. Torres, I will pull your uterus out and shove it down your throat. And the world will thank me for making sure you can’t reproduce. One of you is more than enough."

Izzie shoved the red-head away from her, gripping her cheek. "I - didn’t -"

"Shut the fuck up," Addison said. She turned to Meredith, who took a step back. "Where is George?"

Meredith shook her head, but glanced up the stairs without thinking. "Addison, you really need to -"

"O’Malley!" Addison yelled. She stalked up the stairs and George opened the door just in time for her to arrive on the second floor landing. She shoved him back into the bedroom and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Did you sleep with Olivia?"

"What?"

"Did you?"

"Yeah."

She sank her knee into his groin and watched him groan and fall back on the bed. "You *asshole*. Joe told me what you and your first whore called Callie so let me make something very clear to you. When she gets back here you will not talk to her, look at her, or hurt her anymore. You stay the hell away from her and you make sure that your harem understands that I will personally put them in traction if they don’t do the same."

"I signed the papers," George moaned, still rolling on the bed. "I let her go. After I slept with Izzie the other night and-"

Addison punched his hands, which were cradling his crotch. She waited until he finished yelling and then said, "You slept with *her* again? You actually went there after you saw what it did to Callie?"

"Callie’s with Alex! Olivia saw them making out."

"THEN GOOD FOR CALLIE!!!"

"Oh god, I need testicle retrieval surgery."

"No, you should leave it alone. Maybe it will stay broken and you can’t use it. George and his magic penis should retire." Addison spun on her heel and stalked back down the stairs. She slammed out of the house without seeing Meredith or Izzie again. In the car, she picked up her phone and called Callie. She left a message that was simple. "Call me back. It’s an emergency, Callie."

Then she drove back to the hospital and interrupted Mark’s surgery to tell him that she could possibly be going to jail. He handed the scalpel to Sydney Heron and joined her in the scrub room, where he listened intently to what had transpired.

"You kicked him?"

"Hard."

"Did he cry?"

"I think his balls were lodged in his tear ducts, blocking the supply of fluid."

He grinned at her. "You’re a good friend."

"I have *never* done anything like that in my life. I slapped someone!"

"You slapped me *after* you called me a cross country booty call."

"Oh, right. Did it hurt? I want to make sure it hurt Stevens."

"I didn’t hurt me, but I’m sure Stevens is crying like a baby."

"Really?"

"Yeah, slugger, I’m sure."

"Go operate."

"See you tonight."

When the police had not arrived two hours later, she breathed a little easier.

*~*~*~*~*~

After riding the trolleys for most of the morning and hopping off at random places to browse the shops or sightsee, Callie and Alex ate in Chinatown. Callie encouraged him to try a particularly pricey crab dish and he was not disappointed in the least. It was incredible. Callie had ordered sushi. He happily shared with her, but he would *not*, however, attempt raw fish. Instead, he enjoyed watching her eat it because she made it look good. She had worn tight black jeans and a tank top that was dangerously low cut and incredibly body hugging. He had never seen her in that particular shade of midnight blue and the effect was breathtaking.

He hair was also curlier than he had ever seen it. Even her bangs, which usually hung straight over her forehead, were pushed back and blended with the rest of the curl. He didn’t know if it was the sea water or if she had done it that morning in the bathroom with a roller of some kind, but she looked younger and freer.

"Why are you looking at me?" she finally asked him.

"I like your hair," he replied, reaching out to touch the spiral curl that hung over her left breast. "What did you do?"

"I finally used the gel that I had lost and couldn’t find and dried it with a diffuser." She stole a bite of his lunch.

"You should wear it like this all the time. It makes you look exotic. And exotic and erotic go hand in hand."

"Okay."

He picked up his fork and finished his lunch, then said, "Hey, when’s your birthday?"

"If I tell you when my birthday is, you do not get to laugh or make the obvious joke."

He raised his right hand. "I swear."

"Halloween. My birthday is Halloween."

"I have to say it."

"Alex -"

"You really are Gothic to the core, aren’t you? Your mother planned that date perfectly."

She grinned at him. "I thought you were going to call me a witch or a Satanist. Or a demon. Or, I dunno, possessed."

"You heard that a lot growing up, huh?"

She nodded. "Cam and I both did. He likes to wear leather and so do I, just not head to toe."

"Ooooh, that could have its merits."

"I’ll tell him you said so, but he’s not into jocks."

He threw her napkin at her and she caught it. "What’s he like? Your twin?"

"He’s six foot four. He can look like Marilyn Manson and actually owns a pair of assless pants - which I know because that’s what I got him for Christmas last year. He graduated from business school and is CEO of one of my dad’s biggest companies. He loves to play the guitar, has been with the same guy for ten years, and he has the biggest heart you’ll ever find. He’s funny and smart and he loves to torment my mother as much as I do."

"Your mom is intense."

"That’s one word for it."

"She loves you," Alex replied. "Anyone can see that."

"I know, but she’s hard to please. She’s got ideas and opinions that are unshakeable. And she can hold a grudge better than me and I’m great at it. Plus, she stores every one of your crimes in her brain and pulls them out every time you piss her off."

"That’s just being a woman, Cal."

She flipped him a bird as they finished their lunch and then they headed further into Chinatown, where they absorbed more culture than a person possibly should. When they returned to the shopping district, Callie innocently told him that she wanted to go and call Cam and said that she’d meet him at the trolley in forty-five minutes. He asked her why it would take so long and she just shrugged and walked away, smiling back at him.

Callie made a very large purchase and got two rolls of quarters in the process. She used a pay phone to call Cam. He answered on the second ring. "Hey, Cammy."

"Calliope Torres, you are in so much truh-buhl."

"Is Daddy searching for me?"

"He was, but I talked him out of it. He did find out that you were bitten by an animal. What happened?"

"How did he find out?" she asked, amazed. "Never mind. I sometimes forget what he’s capable of and the people he knows. I saved a lobster’s life and it bit me."

Cam laughed long enough that the operator cut in, asking for more money. Callie quickly added a few more quarters and said, "Hey, I’m going to put the battery back in my phone and call you right back."

After she placed the battery in the phone, she turned it on. There were over forty missed calls and twelve voice mails. She saw that most were from George and that the most recent was from Addison. She listened to that one, just to make the beeping stop, and made a mental note to call her right back. She dialed Cam again and he picked up quickly and said, "You’re so smart, Sis. You took out the battery so Dad couldn’t ping you, right?"

"I did. And it’s fully charged so tell me everything."

Cam filled her in on the details, telling her that he hated George and that Blake and Melana had *shopped* together. Callie gasped on the other end of the line and Cam hastily added, "I know. I almost *died*. She bought him cuff links, Callie. Diamond ones. And he’s officially in love with her. She has become his Mrs. Robinson."

"Blake is gay. Our mother is good, but she does have the wrong equipment for him. It’s infatuation. She’ll kill it with fire soon enough."

"Are you having fun?"

"Alex is my green eggs and ham. I am having a blast, Cam, I am."

He laughed again. "What have you been doing?"

"Besides sex?"

"T.M.I! Excuse me while I reboot my brain."

"We flew to Los Angeles to pick up Goon Docks. We’re sailing her home."

Cam’s stomach lurched and he remembered the dream and the sense of foreboding he had had since then. He told her about it and added, "Just ... stay out of the water, sis."

"I wish you had told me this yesterday."

"Oh my god. Why? What happened."

"I was almost fish food. A fifteen foot Great White’s fish food." You could have heard a pin drop over the line. "I didn’t even try to swim, Cam. I was so scared. Alex jumped in and pulled me back to the boat."

"He jumped in knowing there was a shark?"

"Yes."

"Holy bat shit, girl wonder. If Blake leaves me for our mother then I’m so taking Alex."

"What makes you think you could?"

"Because I’m *that* good," he replied. "Are you okay? After the shark?"

"You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’m better than okay. I’m in love."

"Oh, sweetie. Ohhhhh, sweetie."

"Don’t use that tone. You’ll see when we get back. It’s just ... for the first time in my life everything is great."

"Rushing is bad."

"Perhaps my memory is failing me, Cammy, but did you or did you not tell me that you were in love with Blake after one date?"

"No, I told you I was in love with Blake after looking at him."

"Well, I looked at Alex. It’s real."

"Be careful. Your heart is-"

"Just fine."

"When are you coming home?"

"We’re in San Fran. We’ll be back in a couple of days. But do not tell *anyone*. I’m not coming off the yacht until I have to and that will be for the party." Callie grinned when the man from the shop motioned for her. He was finished with her surprise. "I’ll call *you* when we dock and you can bring Blake out to meet Alex, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan, mi amore. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Callie?"

"What?"

"Stay OUT of the water. Promise me."

"I promise."

She hung up and picked up the gift that had set her back almost six thousand dollars. Smiling, she tucked it in her purse and called Addison.

"Hello?"

"Addison? Before you start yelling and get all crazy ... I just want you to know that I love you and miss you and -"

"I just beat up George and Izzie. I don’t think I’m going to jail, but it may be taking them a while to process the paperwork."

Callie stopped walking. "You did what?!"

"I haven’t had sex in a very long time. I was frustrated and Mark wants shackles and chains and then Joe said that George and Izzie called you names so I went to Meredith’s and ... slapped her and kicked his balls into his ass." She took a deep breath. "I also threatened to shove her uterus down her throat and I’m tempted to go back and do it because I don’t think I hit her hard enough."

Callie’s brain was close to exploding from the rapid fire explanation. "Mark wants shackles and chains? But not sex?"

"It’s horrible, Callie. Not only did I find out why he’s a manwhore, I had to manhandle Yang to find out what kind of coffee he likes just so he *will* have sex with me."

"Bone dry cappuccino."

"This is why you’re my best friend. And how do you know this?"

"Okay, you do remember that I slept with him, right? He ordered room service and I heard it."

"And you remembered it?"

"Well, yeah. That’s what people do."

"Argh! He’s right. I don’t know him at all. I lived with him and I still don’t know him." Addison sighed. "What are you doing? Please tell me that you are having sex so I can live vicariously."

"Are you going to get pissed by my answer?"

"Only if you say that you are abstaining."

"I am *not* abstaining at all." Callie sat back down on the bench. "Addison, we’re a couple. Me and Alex. We’re officially together."

"Oh, thank god."

"That’s a departure. Did you repress the fight we had? The one where you said, ‘friends do not date blah blah blah, bitch’."

"George slept with Izzie again. And Olivia. And he’s a bastard who doesn’t deserve you because he called you a ferret loving whore."

Callie burst into laughter then. It was side splitting and several people gawked at her, but she didn’t care. "I *am* a ferret loving whore," she wheezed. "And he slept with the syph nurse? Ewwww. It’s probably a good thing you kicked his dick because it’s probably going to rot off anyway."

"You’re not mad?"

"No, Addy. I’m not mad at all. I could not care less."

"How is this possible?"

"Because I have moved on," Callie said and the fact that her mood was not darkened at all by the news of George’s latest conquest confirmed that it was true.

"So fast?"

Callie’s grin remained on her face. "It’s not too fast. I’m stopping to enjoy everything I can."

"Just remember that Alex Karev is a bad boy."

"I know. He’s very bad in all the right ways and I am a sucker for every move he makes."

"Dear god. Where is my best friend and what have you done with her?"

"Are you still coming to my party?"

"Yep. I’ll be there. I’m bringing Mark."

"I’m bringing Alex."

"Ooooh, I’m bringing a video camera because your family-"

"Will love him as much as I do."

"Did you just say ‘lo