Author Devylish
Title Best Laid Plans (1/?)
Fandom Grey's Anatomy
Pair Derk/Callie
Rating PG
Words 1381
Warning/Spoiler/Summary None. None. Really just a piece to get my Mallie juices flowing again.
Disclaimer All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show Grey's Anatomy. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of devylish. devylish is in no way associated with the TV show Grey's Anatomy and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.


Callie didn't really care if it was with a woman or a man, but she was getting laid today.

It had been a long, long, long-ass week. She'd assisted in two surgeries on top of her own one or two surgeries nearly every day. Can you SAY tired?

Only, for Callie it wasn't the kind of tired that could be fixed with a nap, or a plush top mattress. At least not a plush top mattress used purely for sleeping.

Nope… her muscles, her mind, her nerve endings needed release. Sweet release….

And then she'd sleep.

She grabbed a small bag of southwestern style baked lays and headed down the magazine aisle. People or Us. Brangelina was on People… having another child… she picked up a copy of each magazine and headed down the next row. Razors and shaving cream. Triple blade, double blade, triple blade… oooh! Quadrazor… 'for the smoothest shave your body has ever seen'. She grabbed a pack of those, and made her way to the next aisle. Tampons. Pads. Condoms. Condoms. Condoms.

Pressing her lips together determinedly she grabbed a random brand and marched up to the counter. Who knows, maybe by buying them, I'll give off some pheromones or something and attract a –

"Mongo Magnum condoms, Torres? I know those can't be for Sloan."

Tingeing pink under her golden tan, Callie turned around and saw perhaps the only man she would never be able to bed. Derek Shepherd.

Oh, she supposed he had the same pheromone/testosterone reaction thingies that other men had, so, technically, in the right circumstances, she MIGHT be able to become his bed-buddy, but… really? Derek and her? So not in her cards. She probably stood a better chance of sleeping with Meredith than she stood a chance of hittin' it with Shepherd. And at least Meredith didn't make her nervous. Shepherd made her nervous. He was too perfect – not in the Mark Sloan definition of perfection – all Adonis-y and chiseled…. No, Shepherd was the other kind of perfection. All curly haired, puppy dog eyed, cute perfection. Picket fence perfection. She didn't deal well with perfection.

She didn't deal with it well at all.

Gathering her wits about her, she replied "I'm not going to ask how you know Sloan isn't a Magnum."

He smiled lightly, "Showers…. Erh, locker room showers." With a chuckle at the hole he was digging for himself, he placed his soda on the counter next to her purchases. "And no… no one dropped the soap."

"Although," she muttered as she moved her items further up the conveyor belt, "That would be hot."

"You do know you said that out loud, don't you?"

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "'Bi' here. I have an appreciation of sexual expression in many of its forms."

"Umm, do you have your 'Save Some' savings card with you?" The cashier, having overheard at least the last part of Callie and Derek's conversation, stared at Callie as if she was an alien.

"Just skip it, I left it –"

"Here, use mine," Derek handed his card to the cashier, and pushed his soda toward Callie's purchases. Whipping out his credit card at the same time, he added, "I've got this."

Callie groaned inwardly. "Shepherd, I can't let you buy my… my 'stuff'." She stressed the word stuff.

"Why not?" He tapped the cover of her magazines. "All I ask is that you let me find out what kind of baby Brad and Angie are expecting."

Callie could feel her skin flushing again. Seriously, all she'd wanted to do this afternoon is spend some time indulging herself… some low fat chips, some trashy reading, pampering herself by giving herself a mini at-home spa treatment…. And then, later this evening she had planned to go out to some bar in something slinky and tempting, and hit upon/be hit upon by pretty women and men. Was that too much to ask for? Really?

Apparently so, because now, now she had McDreamy on her ass. And not in the fun way.

Not that she wanted him on her ass in the fun way.

She studied his profile as he signed the credit card receipt. Imperfect eyes, imperfect nose, imperfect chin. All, somehow, adding up to a drool worthy man.

"What?"

She blinked her eyes a few times. "Huh?"

"You were staring at me." He frowned. "Something on my face?"

"No. No. I was just… thinking. Sorry." She pursed her lips together and tried to think of a way to escape Derek's presence. Well first things first, I need my crap. She looked at the bag that Derek held in his hand. The bag that held their combined purchases. There was something intimate about that. About her belongings sitting next to his belongings. Intimate and improbable.

"Well, thanks." She reached for the bag, intending to separate the goods and send Shepherd on his happy little way.

Apparently, he had different plans.

Pulling his hand back slightly, Derek placed his hand on Callie's upper arm.

He placed his hand on her upper arm!

Glancing behind them at the line that they had obliviously been holding up, he steered her toward the front of the store. "So, other than spending time with someone who isn't Sloan, do you have any plans this afternoon?"

Okay, so how the fuck do I answer that question? He's seen the magazines, the treats, the razors… he knows I have no immediate plans today. On the other hand, actually telling him that I have big plans to shave my legs… and other body parts… yeah, not an option.

"Just planning on going home." Lame answer Torres.

Holding the door open for her, Derek glanced down at her as she walked past him. "How 'bout some lunch? I haven't eaten yet today, and I'm starving."

She would have lied, really. She could have lied. A great, amazing 'I had an omelet, waffles, coffee and juice just an hour ago' lie. She was utterly, completely, totally ready to lie. And as she opened her mouth… her stomach delivered a growl so loud she swore it could be heard five blocks away.

Fuck.

"Lunch… sounds perfect." And I'm red again… why does he make me blush so easily. I didn't even blush around Sloan… and he and I did things that rated blushing!

***

It had been a long week, and Derek was looking forward to taking his Coke home and combining it with huge amounts of rum. Okay, he was looking forward to taking his Diet Coke home… had to keep in shape. Anyway, his plans for the day consisted of drinking, cooking, drinking, and crashing into his bed.

His plans took a sudden detour when he stepped into the checkout line at Save Some. Because there, directly in front of him, stood Callie Torres.

She was wearing cut off jeans. Cut off at just the right place. He didn't get a chance to see her legs much at the hospital, which was clearly, clearly a shame, because they were nice. Really nice. Tan, long, shapely, and firm looking; the kind of long, firm, and shapely that would probably feel perfect around his hips.

He blew out a puff of air and opened his mouth to say 'hello' when he saw the items she was placing on the conveyor belt. Mongo "…Magnum Condoms, Torres?"

When she turned around to respond to him he did his best to focus on her face. Her glowing, beautiful, make-up free face. But he wasn't positive that he was doing a good job of maintaining that focus. His eyes were irrefutably and continually drawn to the red t-shirt she was wearing. The red t-shirt that said Bite Me. The red, Bite Me t-shirt that he was pretty certain she was wearing sans bra.

As she didn't hit him, he was fairly certain he somehow successfully pulled off the 'face focus' stuff, but to this day, he still wasn't quite sure how he did it.

What he did know was that sometime during their movement through the checkout lane, his plans for the day changed. They changed to include Callie Torres… or at least he hoped they would.

"…How 'bout some lunch? I haven't eaten yet today, and I'm starving."

"Lunch… sounds perfect."