Author Devylish
Title Vignettes
Fandom Grey's Anatomy
Pairs Various
Rating PG13
Words 2826
Warning/Spoiler/Summary None. None. Just a few vignettes with various parings/friendships.
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.


Big and Small

"I could so rock that outfit." Cristina and Callie were sitting on the couch watching some sort of modeling reality show with scarily slender, scarily tall women, prancing down runways wearing scarily unique outfits.

"That's because you're the size of a twig."Callie slouched lower on the couch.

"I'm not a twig. I'm a board. Meredith is twig."

Callie shrugged, "You speak the truth."

"Oooooh oooh ooh!" Yang pointed to the model on the screen. "Nippleage! Pointy nippleage!"

"Shit!" Callie threw back her shot and tried to focus on the TV. "How do you always see them before I do?"

"Seriously?!" Yang drew her eyes away from the television. "I will always beat you at this game. You've got boobs."

"Huh?"

"Boobs. Tits. Breasts. Ta-tas. Headlights. Honk—"

"I know what boobs are! What the hell does my having breasts have to do with you beating me at this game?"

"Okay. Fact of life, 85% of small chested women are normally hyper aware of breasts. We see large breasts, small breasts, hanging breasts, perky breasts… we see breasts." She turned back to the TV. "Women like you? Endowed women? Not so interested in the breasts, you've never had to stuff your bras, or put cutlets in your dress just so it fits."

Callie looked down at her chest… then looked at Yang. "Nuh uh. That doesn't fly… I mean, I hated my breasts most of my childhood. It hurt to run in gym. Boys were staring at me all of the time. There's a shitload of stuff I can't wear because the girls would jump out. I always notice boobs. How things fit other women. I notice boobs!"

"1) when you're bi or lesbian…? you're not allowed to give someone an opening like 'I notice boobs.' 2) If you notice boobs, why do you suck at this game?" She proved her argument by pointing to the screen and crowing, "Nippleage!!!"

"Fuck!" Callie grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured out more alcohol. Glancing down at her chest before taking her shot, she pondered: Could there be something to Yang's nipple theory after all?




Practice

"Pumpkin?"

The little girl looked up, her naked tush on the hardwood floor, the diaper she'd been wearing thirty seconds before, in her hand.

"Whatcha doing?"

She smiled, dropped the diaper, and flapped her hands in the air. Her fingers wiggling excitably as she held her arms up to him; beckoning him to pick her up.

He squatted next to his daughter, "See the last time daddy picked you up when you were diaperless, you peed on daddy. And as much as daddy loves you, that's not an experience daddy wants to repeat."

"She got her diaper off that quickly? I think that's the record; I only left her alone long enough to close the door behind you." Callie looked over Derek's shoulder and mock frowned at their daughter. "I'm putting the next one on with suspenders sweetie."

Their daughter looked up at her parents and wiggled cheerfully.

Derek gave in – as he forever would – to little Samantha Iphigenia Shepherd's desire to be held, and pulled her into his arms.

Grabbing her dad's shirt in a fist she jumped a few times in his arms before contentedly dropping her head to his shoulder.

Her brown eyes looked into her mother's for a few seconds, before she unclenched her hand from her father's shirt and waved for her mother to come closer.

No less wrapped around her daughter's finger than Derek was, Callie moved nearer. Standing behind Derek she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder. Samantha's happy hands touched and patted her mother's forehead.

Callie murmured, "God, when she starts dating we're in so much trouble."

"Dating? She's never dating. I've already purchased a chastity belt, and when she hits twelve… we're putting bars up on her bedroom windows. She's never dating."

Samantha lifted her head up and stopping patting her mom's head, she hit her dad's shoulder and squealed.

Derek turned in Callie's arms. "I don't think she likes my plans."

Leaning up to kiss him on the cheek and to run her hands through Samantha's wealth of hair, Callie grinned and pulled away, offering her two cents as she headed into the kitchen. "I wonder if she's working so hard to get those diapers off because she's practicing to get out of that chastity belt."


Whoop Whoop
Song = Enur's Calabria

He was working hard to keep his eyes off of her. She'd just broken up with Arizona, and really, he didn't stand a chance. He knew he didn't stand a chance. But she was bubbly tonight…happy. And a happy Callie was irresistible.

To man or to woman.

Another song hit the speaker, and as the open beat of the music kicked in, a few people in the room, including Callie and Cristina, yelled out: 'Reeeee-miiiixxxxxx!'

He watched Callie point at Cristina across the room, waving her towards her with a beer in one hand and a smile on her face.

Cristina, her own beer in hand sashayed in time with the music, moving towards Callie.

They met in the middle of the floor with other tipsy, beat driven dancers. As if they'd moved together forever, the two women began shifting their hips in time with the music… in time with one another.

Callie rested one arm on Yang's shoulder and stepped in towards the slender woman. Hips swiveling, Cristina intertwined her legs between Callie's. They moved in to one another, Yang letting her arms half rest, half hover along Callie's waist.

cause u sound like the talk of the town yea,
imma lock u when u run come around yea,
make me wobble, make me whole body bubble,
an me no say ya trouble, when ya ready for the double,

He couldn't keep his eyes off of them. He tried. But he was failing, miserably. Callie, in particular caught his eyes, her hips flashing in time with the music. He watched her lift her arms in the air, her body snaking through the warm air of the apartment.

and n u hit that,
no ti-na the mickle
play with it a lickle,
why you so na tickle

Yang danced her way down Callie's body. Bending her legs as she worked her way down the curvier woman's frame. They were hot… warm from the room, from the crush of bodies. And they were hot… sexiness in its purest fashion. Beauty and tempo and heat coming together in the form of two bodies.

He threw back the last of his beer and reached for another one.

"What I wouldn't give to be in the middle of that." Avery reached for his own beer and twisted off the cap, never taking his eyes off of the two women on the middle of the dance floor.

And for a moment, he felt… something akin to jealousy. Only it couldn't be jealousy, because they… Callie and he… had never been a thing. They were barely friends.

Taking his eyes off of Callie and Yang, he glanced down at his cock as it twitched. Apparently, being friends had nothing to do with it. Nothing to do with the… want… he'd been feeling for her. "That makes two of us."

Jackson took a quick look at Shepherd and verified that Callie seemed to be the main object of his attention. Satisfied that he wouldn't have to fight the man who was almost God at SGH, he made a suggestion. "Let's do it."

Derek looked to his left and raised a brow.

"Man, let's get in there before some other guy, or guys, get the balls up to do it." He put his beer down on the counter and stared out at Yang.

im tellin' you to: hit that
no ti-na the mickle
stay with it a lickle,
why you so na tickle

"I don't really dance. Not this kind of…"

"Okay, THAT… that isn't dancing." He echoed Derek's earlier thoughts. "That's… that's more than dancing. That's… that's sexing." Hitting Derek on the arm with the back of his hand, Jackson took a deep breath. "I'm going out there. Feel free to join."

Derek watched Jackson head out to the floor, coming up behind Cristina and placing his hips against hers.

She didn't jump, she didn't slap him, and she simply grinned at Callie then turned around to face her new partner. Her hips moved against Jackson's and Callie's simultaneously.

im feelin' them
(whoop whoop)

Derek only waited long enough to take one more sip of his beer.

Heading to the middle of the living room he made his way to behind Callie and slid his hand around her waist.

She did jump, but when she turned around she looked up at him and smiled.

Whoop Whoop!
You not small you not lickle(as in little) at all
Dat touch, just dip on me mind yea

Like he said… he didn't dance. He didn't dance like she did. But he didn't have to. She slid her arms around his shoulders, and let her body journey along his. Hips telling a story… singing a song. A tempestuous, flirtatious, easy song.

And he definitely liked the sound.



No Nookie

"You suck."

Mark laughed and sat down on the edge of the tub next to her. "Crackers didn't help?"

"Crackers never help. Nothing helps. I hate you!"

Two weeks of verified morning sickness hadn't been wearing well on Callie. Especially since that morning sickness really wasn't confined to the morning. Callie was one of the lucky women who seemed to have morning sickness all day long every day. She'd had one week of thinking she'd caught the flu. After having Yang run a few blood tests she'd been summarily told that Yang was going to be an Aunt. I.e. that she, Callie was pregnant.

"I can handle getting fat. I can handle hemorrhoids. I can handle waddling and swollen… body parts. But I hate being sick. I hate it." She leaned against him.

Rubbing his hand along her arm he tugged her close. "I know you hate it. Only a few more weeks baby."

"What if I'm one of the ones who gets it like for the whole pregnancy?"

"You won't be. But even if you are, you'll make it through… you're tough.

"Can I not be tough? Can I be weak and soft and just have it stop?"

He chuckled and reached for the damp towel laying on the edge of the tub next to him. Wiping off her forehead and her cheeks he gently wiped off her mouth and tossed the towel into the sink. Reaching for the bottle of water he'd grabbed from the kitchen as soon as she'd run into the bathroom, he unscrewed the top with one hand and handed it to her.

Water seemed to be the only thing her body didn't reject these days.

He watched her sip the water for a few seconds before asking "Feeling a little better?"

"Until the next time my body decides it wants to blow chunks."

He chuckled as he stood up. "Hold on to your water."

"Wha…"

Bending over he looped an arm under her knees and another arm under her shoulders and picked Callie up.

"What are you doing!" She clung to him as he carried her out of the bathroom.

"Taking you to bed."

She groaned. Along with the morning sickness, the 'always always wanting to sleep' aspect of the pregnancy was kicking her ass. "I can't go back to bed; I need to get ready for work."

Kicking their bedroom door open, Mark smiled, "took care of that, I called in for you. For both of us actually."

"I can sleep?"

"You can sleep." He stopped at the edge of the bed and sitting her on the mattress he pulled back the covers and motioned for her to lay down.

"What did they say when you called in for both of us?"

"'Don't make a habit of it', and, I believe the exact phrase was: 'if you're playing hookie for nookie, I'll know.'"

Scootching down in the bed Callie smiled, "Bailey."

"Pure Bailey."

Pulling the covers up and over Callie's form, Mark walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed under the covers next to Callie.

"What're you doing now?" Callie yawned as she felt him move closer to her.

"Taking a nap with you."

She felt his strong arms slide – one around her waist, one under head, and she nuzzled into his firm warm frame. "No nookie," she yawned again, "Bailey will know."

His breath warm against her ear and neck, Mark promised, "No nookie, just napping. This pregnancy thing is tiring."


It and This

"Seriously. Back off! We did it once. It was a mistake, it's not happening again." Yang darted around Alex's pervasive figure and headed into her living room.

"It may have been a mistake, but it was good." He followed her to the couch, sitting too close.

"It doesn't matter if it was good. It was still a mistake. A drunken mistake. A 'whoops I fell on your dick' mistake."

"Have you and Hunt…?"

"No, we're still… … hey, it's none of your business if Hunt and I are back together or not. That has nothing to do with this." She waved her hand between the two of them. "This…? This is not happening again."

"I signed the divorce papers."

Shit! "Good for you." She picked up the remote and turned the TV on.

He took the remote from her hand and turned the TV off.

"What the fuck Karev?!"

"There are better ways to spend our time than watching TV."

She slouched in her seat, "Says you."

"It was good. I know it and you know it. It was damn good."

She could lie. She was good at lying; lying came almost naturally to her, but… it was harder to lie when memories of 'it' kept popping up in her mind. His hands. His mouth. His skin. His damn mouth. "Shut up Karev."

"I'll shut up if you admit it was good…. No, wait, you have to admit it was great. Fucking amazing."

"Anyone ever mention to you that you suffer from delusions of grandeur?"

"I simply speak the truth."

"As you see it."

He tossed the remote onto the floor and leaned across Yang, effectively trapping her against the couch cushions. "Tell me I'm lying. Tell me it wasn't great."

She opened her mouth and he took his shot. His lips brushed against hers in a slow, teasing fashion. He pulled back a few inches before leaning back in and touching her lips with again. He gave her time to push him away if she really wanted to. But apparently, she didn't really want to. With a groan of defeat she lifted her hands to the back of his head, touching the soft hairs there.

Damn Alex Karev. Damn Alex Karev and his touch. She hated that he was gentler than she'd ever expected. She hated the way that he made her feel. She hated that he 'made' her feel. She was done with feeling. Done with opening up to people. To men. Hunt had been the great experiment and the experiment had failed. So she was done with feelings.

Until Alex. Until Alex and one drunken night. One drunken night when her defenses were down, and she let him touch her. Why'd he have to be so gentle? Why couldn't he have been selfish and… and thoughtless. Why'd he have to hold her all night long?

Drunken or sober, she didn't delude herself to the reality that he 'could' be hard. Could be cruel. The two of them were much too similar for her not to know he was capable of being selfish. But the knowledge that he could be that way, juxtaposed with the fact that he wasn't that way with her. In bed. When he could have been…. And it's not like she didn't like it hard. Hard and fast. She did. She definitely did! But…, to be treated like glass, like a treasure, like a 'once in a lifetime'…, yeah, she liked that too.

Damn Alex Karev.

She gathered what remained of her senses and bluffed. "This is it. This is the last time. We're not doing this again." She worked at the buttons of his shirt - tugging the ones that refused to budge beneath her fingers --until they popped open. She lifted her eyes to his and almost broke from the look on his face. He was placing too much on this. On the possibility – the impossibility – of them. "I swear to God Karev, this is it. No more."

The smirk. The damn smirk that spoke of sex and truth. He smirked that smirk at her before lowering his head to her neck and whispering, "Then I guess I better make this count."