Author Devylish
Title Best Mistake
Chapter 1/2 Infected
Fandom Grey's Anatomy
Pair Derek and Callie
Rating PG13
Words 2395
Warning/Spoiler/Summary None. None. Ever mistakenly done something you knew you shouldn't do. With someone you knew you shouldn't do it with? Ever found that something to be the best mistake of your life?
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.


Cracking open two bottles of water, he reached into his wallet and pulled out two small packets of extra strength Tylenol.

Opening one packet, he climbed back into the bed, pulling the sheet over his hips. Throwing the pills in his mouth he swallowed them then took a swig of water. Shuddering as a wave of pain hit his head again, he looked over at the woman lying next to him in the bed.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Tequila and Torres were now on his 'no' list.

She shifted in the bed with a moan. A sound that triggered faint memories in his mind… and triggered a twinge in his cock.

Another moan, another shift, and she opened one eye.

Taking in a half naked torso, covered with a sheet, Callie screwed her eyes shut tight. Her head hurt. The room was too bright, and apparently, she'd gone to bed with someone last night. Fuck. She tried to dig through the cotton candy fuzz that filled her skull. Tried to recall what idiocy she'd done last night.

And then the owner of the body sitting next to her – naked – in bed, spoke. "I have some water and a couple of Tylenols if you're in the same kind of pain I'm in.

Shepherd?

Derek Shepherd was naked in bed next to her?

Mistake. Big mistake.

With a groan she squinted her eyes at him, "Can you turn off the light?"

"That light you want me to turn off is the sun."

"Fuck."

"You can say that again." He watched her shift in the bed, bits and pieces of her tan flesh coming into view as she sat up so that she was against the head board like he was.

"You mentioned water and meds?" She had her eyes closed, her hand extended.

Opening the pill packet for her he dumped the two pills in her hand, and after she popped them in her mouth, he handed her the water.

Gulping the liquid down, Callie sighed. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye she tucked the sheet a little higher on her chest. "So this is what I'd call awkward."

"Look. We both know last night was stupid. A stupid mistake. But, we can still be friends. Handle this like adults. Right?"

"Right." A memory flashed through her head. "A hot, wow, stupid mistake."

"Definitely a hot wow." He slunk a little lower against the headboard, letting his eyes fall shut.

"But a mistake."

"Mmm hmmm."

"As long as we agree."

They sat in silence, waiting for the medication to kick in.

***

Nothing really changed between them after that.

Maybe she laughed at his jokes a little more. He was a funny man. Right?

Maybe he sat in the stadium watching her surgeries more often than normal – he was just taking a break. Right?

So yeah, nothing really changed between them.

***

"What're you drinking?" Derek sat down next to Callie at the bar.

"Scotch."

"No more tequila?"

Callie shivered slightly. "Tequila = bad."

Derek nodded to the bartender, "Tanqueray and Tonic."

"I'm not the only one steering away from the 'bad' stuff, huh?"

"To quote a wise woman: 'Tequila = bad.'"

They sat in silence while he waited for his drink, both of them facing the bar, watching the mirror, the people reflected behind them, the people seated in the booths. Anything but one another.

"So how many of those have you had?" He nods his head in the direction of her scotch.

"One… this one."

They fell back in to silence.

He tapped his fingers on his glass nervously… thoughts running through his head. Bad thoughts.

"So how have you been?" Great lead in Shepherd…. Not that you really want a lead in. Because you're not thinking – at all- about doing something bad.

She didn't move her head, but she glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Tortured by half memories of our night together? Horny? So many answers! "Good. Good."

"No – aftereffects from our little… uhm…?"

She locked eyes with him in the mirror. "Aftereffects? Such as?"

"Regrets?"

A shot of energy hit her center. "No. no regrets."

Pasting a smile on his face, he slowly swirled the ice in his glass. "The worst part of the whole … event … is that I can't even remember all of it. It kind of sucks to know you did something wrong and not to be able to recall what you did."

She looked away from his reflection. "I thought I was the only one suffering from half memories."

More silence.

Well this is getting me nowhere. Callie took one last sip of her scotch before putting the glass down and pushing it away.

"Leaving?"

"Yeah… big plans for the night; I have to hurry home and vacuum. And then I have a load of laundry to do."

He reached into his pocket and dropped enough cash on the counter for both of their drinks before standing up and throwing back the last of his gin and tonic.

Callie stood up slowly, eyeing him. "I take it you're leaving too?"

"I'm a gentleman Torres; I'm walking you out to your car."

Picking up her satchel she moved to the door, silently wishing he'd leave her alone. One stool was too close. One stool and one drink was way too close. And he had to throw being a gentleman on top of it.

.

.

.

Or not…

They'd walked a few feet away from the bar entrance when he asked, "So you're sober, right?"

She snorted and turned to him, "After just one drink? Pfft, I could –"

He cut her off with a kiss; one of his hands at her jaw, the other at her waist, holding her close.

She was holding on to the front of his shirt when he pulled his lips away; holding on so that she didn't fall down… and so that he wouldn't go away.

"I'd like to know exactly what we did last time. The half-memories are… killing me." He brushed his lips against hers again. "We can still add this to our list of mistakes. And never do it again, but, I hate knowing/and not knowing at the same time."

"Irritating huh?"

"Itch you can't scratch." He paused, "only, we could kind of scratch this itch. Take care of the need to know, and then be done with it."

Callie looked up at him for a few seconds and with a barely visible swallow of concern, she moved her hands along his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles her grasping hands had made. Studying her hands so that she didn't have to look in his eyes, she responded. "I suppose if we're just doing it so that we're not being tormented by questions of 'what did we do?'."

"Right. Exactly. We'll know what we've done and then we can put it behind us, not have it hanging over our heads."

"Right."

"Right."

"And where …?"

"The Trent is a few blocks away."

"Fancy, Dr. Shepherd."

"Well if we're going to remember this," he grabbed her hand and led the way down the street, "We might as well remember it with 1000 thread count sheets."

"Okay, the fact that you know about thread counts, freaks me out a bit."

"So you're saying I shouldn't tell you that I know how to cook either, huh?"

She groaned. Maybe her memories of that night WERE manufactured memories. Maybe he was too metro sexual for her. Crap.

***

They came to a stop in front of The Trent, Callie pulling back from him ever so slightly. "Are you sure we want to do this?" She asked, the wrongness, the thread counts, the sheer Shepherdness of the situation hitting her full force.

He pulled her back to him, their joined hands caught between their bodies, and he kissed her again.

And the man knew how to kiss.

Senseless, breathtaking, overwhelming kisses.

Pulling away so that they could go into the hotel, he grinned at her dazed face, eyes shut, mouth parted slightly. "We're going in Torres."

So maybe knowing about thread counts didn't mean anything about his manliness……

***

"I'd like a room." Derek was at the front desk, Callie pressed against his back, peering over his shoulder at the deskman.

"For how many people, sir?"

"Two."

"And your luggage sir?"

"No luggage."

The deskman frowned and glanced at Callie's face. She ducked her head behind Derek's neck and proceeded to blush.

He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry sir, but The Trent does not rent rooms by the hour."

"I want a room for the night," Derek clarified. He pulled out his black amex, and a wad of cash. "I'll pay double the usual night's rate."

He thinks I'm a whore. He thinks I'm a certified whore. And that Derek's my john. And who the fuck would have thought I'd ever be in a situation where anyone would be able to think those things!?

The deskman sniffed slightly, before pinching the cash and the amex off of the counter. Silently processing the room request he handed Derek the key card and offered an austere: "room 6 – 234."

"Thanks."

Leading a still blushing Callie to the elevator, Derek pressed the button for the sixth floor then turned to Callie and walked her into the corner of the elevator, pressing her against the wall. "Ready to make a mistake?"

****

She woke up with a smile on her face. A big smile; because, this time, she remembered everything that led up to her being in bed – naked – with one Dr. Derek Shepherd.

Her smile faltered a bit. It was still wrong. They were still about as compatible as oil and water, but….

His head was on her chest, his hair a riot of curls and waves, and she wanted to run her fingers through the strands… tame them. Can friends who've made a mistake, touch one another's hair? Or was that going too far?

She was saved from making a decision by his stretching; his stubbled jaw rubbing against her breast and sending sparks of pure energy through her veins. As he slowly woke up he lifted his head and they made eye contact.

She was beautiful in the morning. Hair spilled out on the pillow, her lips full and beckoning. Beautiful. He smiled.

He was adorable in the morning, little boy, puppy dog, sleepy, adorable. She smiled back.

Lowering his head back to her breast he yawned and spoke, "Knowing is definitely better."

Callie gave a low laugh and lifted her hand to his hair. "Definitely better."

*****

They had breakfast, coffee, showers, and parted ways. Agreeing, once again, that 'it'…'this'… 'they' were still a mistake, a brilliant delicious, hot mistake, but a mistake none the less.

They parted ways, satiated and more or less content with the knowledge that their one of, or two of kind, mistake would never happen again….

Now that they knew exactly what they'd done.

****

He nodded and smiled at her from his spot across the conference room.

Nodding and smiling back at him, Callie squeezed past a couple of the head nurses, and moving to the side of the room closest to the windows, she clambered into the chair that Mark had saved for her.

"You're late."

"Yeah well so is Richard so…."

"All right folks," Chief Weber pushed into the room heading to the spot left open for him at the head of the table. "Let's get this meeting started and finished."

Callie listened to the weekly round up with half an ear, doodling on the agenda sheet with her pen. Her mind was lost in the same thing it had been lost in for the past week. Thoughts of Derek Shepherd and how he could kiss her senseless. How his hands seemed to be made for touching… touching her skin, her body. How he gave her the most intense org—

"Planning on staying here?" Mark's voice interrupted her very inappropriate thoughts and she shook her head and looked up at him.

He and everyone else in the conference room were standing up and clearing out of the room. She'd just zoned out for fifteen minutes. Zoned out for fifteen minutes on thoughts of Derek Shepherd. What The Fuck! This was ridiculous!

Pushing away from the table, Callie gathered her papers and offered a tense smile to Mark. "I was just lost in the depths of our exciting meeting."

"Uh huh." Mark followed her out of the room. "So who's the girl?"

She looked up at him in confusion.

"C'mon Torres. We're buds. I know you… I know you get stupid when you're interested in someone. Who's the lucky blonde? Or have you moved on to red heads?"

Callie blinked then broke into a laugh. "Uh… actually I'm 'interested' in a brunette this time." A brunette with a penis. A lovely, lovely --.

"Moving up in the world I see."

"Being one myself, I should have realized from the start that brunettes are the best."

Mark tilted his chin up, and thought for a second, "Well now that you mention it… that's been my experience too."

"Your vast… vast… vast experience."

"You missed a 'vast'."

"I was being polite." Seeing Derek down the hall, Callie turned to Mark and making a hurried half ass excuse, dashed down a side hall.

Ducking into an empty patient room she took a deep breath. And then another one. Okay, so this isn't working. This whole… sleep with him once - once that you remember – so you know what it was like thing? NOT working.

Jesus, he's like a fucking drug.

She paused for a second. Okay, don't be melodramatic Torres. He's just a man. A man with major bedroom skills, but just a man. You… you just need to get him out of your system. She thought about going to Alex… or Mark… and having an on call room session. But, Alex had just started something with Yang, and she didn't think Cristina was the sharing type. And Mark? Mark had finally found a girl almost as great as she was; it would be a shame to try and break him when he finally had something good.

So no Sloan, no Karev…. Looks like she might have to go back to the source to get a fix.