Title Best Mistake
Chapter 2/2 Cured
Fandom Grey's Anatomy
Pair Mark and Callie
Warning/Spoiler/Summary None. None. Ever mistakenly done something you knew you shouldn't do. With someone you knew youshouldn'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.
Callie waited patiently for the locker room to empty. Doctors, obviously, worked all kinds of shifts, so finding the right time, the perfect time, required all of her patience. But she was a woman on a mission.
Finally, the room was temporarily empty, and she quickly reached into her rucksack and pulled out her supplies. Opening Derek's locker, which was already unlocked because she had 'picked' up some serious skills growing up with her brother Edmundo, she shifted the items around slightly on his locker shelf, making a little more room.
Setting her supplies and her plan in place, Callie shut the locker and taking a deep breath, grabbed her coat and headed home.
"How do you get to kick me out of my own apartment?"
"Skills? I'm stronger than you? I need to get laid? Take your pick."
"Pfft! Skills my ass! And my slight figure hides speed and surprisingly wiry muscles." Yang paused, looked Callie up and down… "You do need to get laid though. You don't look as bad as you did a month ago, but… HEY! You've been getting some! Who have you been tappin'!?"
Callie turned her back to Yang and continued to fill the refrigerator with her purchases. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Calliope….." Yang shifted so that she could watch Callie's profile.
"Don't call me that."
"Don't lie to me."
Callie shut the refrigerator, and moved to the cabinets. "I have to lie to you, you can't keep a secret."
"So you haaaavve been getting some from someone. Whoooo?!"
"Same someone who you're having over tomorrow night?"
"Male or female?"
"Twenty questions? You'll never figure it out." She quietly added, "I can't even figure it out."
"I'm going to guess male. You wouldn't hide a girl from me. Unless it was Bailey. And Bailey definitely doesn't swing your way." She pouted and headed into the living room. "Boys. Boys. Who could it be?"
Callie called out after her, "So you'll disappear tomorrow night?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah!"
A few moments of silence went by before Yang yelled back in to the kitchen. "It's not Hunt is it?!" He and Yang had broken up a few months ago; their intense, heated, constantly bubbling over affair, crashing and burning in a spectacular fashion. A spectacular fashion that they had somehow managed to recover from and, better yet, somehow how managed to remain friends after. Charcoally, burnt, crispy friends..., but friends none the less.
"Ewww! No! It's not Hunt! Now, leave me alone!"
"When you stop having juicy secrets I'll leave you alone. Where the hell am I going to stay tomorrow night?"
"She's no fun... not since she and Derek broke up."
Callie shuddered at the mention of 'Meredith and Derek'; she was glad Cristina was in the living room and missed the cringe... it would have given her secret away. "I thought you liked Meredith all 'dark and twisty'?"
"Dark and twisty, yes. Morose and boring? No."
"Okay, so no Grey. What about Karev?"
"Well, at least he's fun."
Callie smiled to herself. Yang could try to play it off, but Callie knew Alex had spent the night in their apartment a few times in the past couple of weeks. She'd seen his shoes in the living room one night, and his jacket on the couch another night.
Cris would definitely have 'fun' with Karev.
Yang chirped from the living room,"So I take it, it's not Karev either, huh?"
Finishing his coffee as he entered the locker room, Derek threw away the cup and shrugged his way out of his leather jacket. He was tired. Not only from the long hours he'd been putting in the hosp, but from the lack of sleep he'd experienced because he'd been suffering from a severe case of Torres dreams.
Sleeping with her the second time - sober – had seemed like a good idea at the time. It had even seemed like a good idea the morning after. But the nights since then....? The nights were killing him; all alone in his bed with nothing but his hand, and thoughts of her to keep him occupied.
He felt like he was a teenager again – his cock responding continually, consistently, happily, to the thought of her skin, her touch.
Things were even getting difficult at work. The Physician Staff meeting on Monday? He'd seen her come in, nod in his direction and flash a smile at Mark, and his gut had clenched. He'd sat next to Richard during the fifteen minute meeting with a semi hard-on, trying not to look at her. Trying not to watch her eyes light up, her brilliant smile....
It was a losing fucking battle.
Knowing what being with Callie was like, was definitely a bad idea. A bad idea, leading to a losing battle.
Working open his locker, Derek froze – the noise of his coworkers milling and moving around him fading to nothing.
On the top shelf of his locker stood a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses, a lemon, and a salt shaker. He reached for the small card leaning against the bottle: 630pm. My place.
But then again, it's not like he really needed to see one.
Derek grinned like the kid who'd just made the winning touchdown.... Callie Torres wanted him.
He stepped off of the elevator with trepidation. Trepidation and fear. Trepidation and fear and anticipation.
1 -- Mark lived across the damn hall from Callie. Mark with his chiseled jaw and his carnal knowledge of Callie.
2 -- Derek was 99% certain that he was going to find Callie alone in her apartment, but, what if Yang was there? . . . . What if Yang was there?!?!
3 -- Derek was 99.9% certain that he was going to find Callie alone in her apartment. Alone, waiting for him.
Trepidation. Fear. Anticipation.
He paused outside of her apartment before muttering a quiet 'what the fuck' and knocking on her door.
Striking his best Cary Grant pose, he leaned against the door frame; tequila bottle hanging in one hand as he balanced the lemon and salt shaker in the shot glasses in his other hand.
It only took five seconds for his nerves to hit him again. He glanced own at the suit jacket and jeans he'd run home and thrown on. Too much?
The door to Callie's apartment swung open.... Definitely too much. But it was okay, he had a funny feeling he wouldn't be wearing the outfit for all that long.
At the knock on her apartment door, Callie grabbed the nightgowns, negligees, underwear, and stockings that littered her bed and shoved them, unceremoniously, into the closet. Pulling her hair out of the scruncci she had it up in, she shook her hair out and ran her fingers through it. She dashed into the bathroom and gave her outfit a final once over.
So, yeah, historically, boys liked girls in silk and lace, but... historically, girls liked wearing cotton. Callie had decided that since she was the one taking the leap in this situation, she was going to go with what made her feel comfortable. So she was wearing cotton. A t-strapped, red, tank top, and her red 'delicious' dance pants. Not a single 'boy sexy' thing on her... well, except for maybe -- she wiggled her toes -- her red pedicured tootsies.
Running down the hall, she came to a stop in front of the door, and taking another deep breath, she jerked at the knob, swinging the heavy door open.
"Hi." Damn he's sexy.
"Hi." I'm definitely overdressed, but...
I should have worn the red silk thingy!
"You look... great." He dragged his eyes from her hips, up to her breasts – full and free beneath her tank top, up to her lips – full and tempting.
Maybe the 'girl sexy' outfit was an okay move.
"You're not looking too bad yourself Dr. Shepherd," she stepped to the side, "Wanna come in?"
Her smile widened as she closed the door and leaned against it. "Definitely?"
He put the shot glasses and tequila on the living room coffee table then turned back to face her. "You're making that door look sexy." He groaned inwardly after he said the words. Not exactly Cary Grant... but... well... damnit, it was true.
Callie bit her bottom lip before teasingly stepping away from the door, "I can leave you two alone if you'd like?"
"No. No. I've recently given up on doors... it never seems to work out."
Callie laughed, husky and low; Derek Shepherd was a dork. An adorable dork. A sexy, adorable, dork.
She moved until she was standing just a few feet away from him. Glancing past him at the tequila, she observed, "I see you got my gifts?"
"Mmm hmmm." he closed the distance between them. "I thought, maybe, we could share them."
"That's so sweet of you! Sharing and all."
"I'm a sweet man."
"A sexy, sweet, man." Her eyes were at his neck.
He had a funny feeling she wanted to nibble at him... and he found that he didn't really mind the idea. "I was about to say the same thing about you."
Callie raised a brow.
"The sweet and sexy part, not the 'man' part." He put his hands on her hips. "You're definitely all woman."
She grinned and moved firmly into his space, letting her hands travel up his forearms, to his biceps, and finally up to his shoulders. "You noticed?"
"Noticed. Recorded.... Had dreams about it." his fingers kneaded into the flesh of her hips.
"So, I take it, you don't really need any alcohol to.... help you through this?"
"Oooh, you just earned soooo many points, Dr. Shepherd."
"Points." She lowered her hands to his and slowly began to lead him down the hall to the bedrooms. "Points that can be redeemed for extra, special, treatment."
"Special treatment sounds... good." His jeans were now spectacularly uncomfortable.
Callie stopped before her open bedroom door and separating her hands from his she let them lay on his chest. "Want some special treatment ...Derek?"
He pressed against her with a smirk, "Yes please."
"Politeness will get you everywhere..." she pulled at his lapel, and he followed her into the room. Followed the sway of her hips, and the push pull of her hands on his jacket.
When they reached the bed, Callie stuck her thumbs in the waistband of her pants and began to wiggle out of them. As she took off the pants, she kept her eyes on Derek's pretty blues. His turned on, pretty blues.
Finally standing in front of him in nothing more than boy shorts and a tank top, Callie's nervousness kicked in... and she began to babble... just a bit. "I made dinner... for... it's in the oven... staying warm. If you want to... I mean we could," she gestured at the bed, "after? I mean I could feed you... first. And then...." So fucking shutting up now!
He raised a brow. She was babbling... and she'd cooked for him... for them. He lifted a hand to the back of her neck and pulled her closer. "Dessert first."
He woke up a few hours later to find Callie navigating her way beneath the bed covers.
She stopped moving and then he heard a muffled curse before she started wiggling lower in the bed again. "Callie, what are you...?'
Her tongue touched the tip of his flaccid cock and he felt electricity shoot through his system.
Her tongue darted out again, this time flattening and circling the head.
"Callie?" He raised his hand to touch the sheet covered lump that was Callie's head, but before he touched her, she swallowed him whole. Her mouth, warm, and wet, engulfing his cock, and turning his brain off. "Jeeeezzzuuusssss!"
Callie smiled around Derek, the flat of her tongue dragging along the side of his cock as she lifted her head up. Flicking her tongue along the tip of his cock, she opened her mouth again, taking him in until he hit the back of her throat.
As she lifted her head again, she let her hand brush against the warm heaviness of his balls; she heard him groan and she smiled again.
Callie set up a rhythm; surrounding him with her mouth for a short count then lifting her head and swirling her tongue around the underside of the head of his cock. She gave a soft hum of pleasure when she felt him moving his hips beneath her ministrations. The hum made him shift again and Callie could feel her belly clinch with heat; turning him on... working him up made her feel... well, it made her feel. Everywhere.
Derek's hand eventually did find its way to the top of Callie's head but it was an 'unaware' sort of touch; his body couldn't decide which sensation it wanted more.... Did he want to be surrounded by her slick, warm mouth, or did he want to be feel the stir of energy that shot through him when she teased the head of his cock?
He didn't have long to think about it, Callie was talented. Talented as a doctor, and definitely talented as a … well....
He felt his balls tightening and he let out a hoarse whisper, "Callie. Callie honey... I'm going to... fuck... I'm going to..." His next sound was little more than a grunt. A grunt and a moan of nerve shattered pleasure.
Callie swallowed as Derek released; her thighs slick and slippery with her own desire.
When Derek finally finished cumming, Callie licked her lips and edged her way, up and out, from beneath the bed covers. With a grin, a salty, slightly naughty grin, she planted a kiss on his lips.
"How'd you like your special treatment?"
He gasped and puffed out, "When I get my energy back, you're going to have to tell me how can I earn more points."
It was early morning and Callie was... feeling good. But she'd noticed, except for the blinding hangover of the first night she'd spent with Derek, she always felt good when she woke up in his arms.
And yeah, she was in his arms. His chest against her back, her head on his shoulder, one of his arms around her waist, the other on her chest.
"Awake?" Derek's voice was low.
"So," he traced his fingers along her chest, "this... this tequila invitation thing? Are we...? Are you thinking...? Can we...?" And what the hell? Am I channeling a teenage girl here or what? He took a shallow breath, "Do I need to bring you tequila every night in order to end up in your bed?"
Callie lifted her hand to his, and as he trailed an unconscious pattern along her skin of her chest, she traced one along the skin of his hand.
"It feels good... being with you. I mean, not being with you... although, yeah, right, that feels good... really good." She rolled her eyes when she heard him chuckle behind her. "But then we go our separate ways and you remember why you shouldn't be with me, and I remember why I shouldn't be with you."
"And what were those reasons again?"
Callie held up her hands and ticked off the reasons on her fingers, "Meredith, Mark, Seattle Grace, your Shepherdness, my Torresness..., want me to go on?"
Derek pulled Callie closer and moved his hands to hers, locking their fingers together. "Oh, yeah... those reasons." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Meredith: Done. Over with. Not a consideration. Mark: Had his chance. Didn't take it. Not a consideration for me." Derek peered at Callie's profile waiting for her to say something. He cleared his throat. "I mean, I know Mark has a reputation, I've seen the women coming... and uh coming back for more; I guess if you and he weren't quite done y--"
Callie turned her head slightly. "We're done. We're friends." She anticipated his next question. "Friends without benefits." She turned her body so that her chest was flush with his; and she nuzzled her lips against his neck. "And in case you haven't noticed, you kinda have me... coming back for more."
Derek grinned, a grin Callie didn't see. "Oh, yeah... that's right." He let his hand rest on her hip. "Umm, back to that list of reasons. Seattle Grace: if they can handle you and Sloan jumping in and out of on call rooms, and Meredith and me doing whatever the hell it was we were doing... they can handle you... and me."
"Yeah, but --"
Derek lifted his hand to Callie's chin, tilted her head up and kissed her 'quiet'.
She smiled lazily, satisfiedly, "No buts."
"You're going to have to help me with the whole Shepherdness, Torresness part of the list. Not certain I get those."
Callie dove in. "You're Shepherd; all backwoods, nature boy. Good guy. Picket fences. Straight arrow. I'm Torres. Give me Miami music, conveniences of a full size home vs a freakin tin can. I'm not known for being the good girl, although, since we're on the topic, I AM a good person! And sometimes I want a picket fence, sometimes I don't. I'm not straight... no pun intended. I'm curvy and colourful, and you like skinny Grey women." Callie paused for a breath. "I'm done."
Derek flipped them over so that he was laying on top of Callie, looking down at her. "I like Miami music. And I want to have a full size home – with the right woman. You are a good girl." He dropped a kiss to her lips. "And thank God, you're a little bit of a naughty girl too. And I don't need a picket fence." He grinned, "I could handle cedar plank fence, even a chain link fence." He dipped in for a kiss again. "And, are you positive I don't like curvy colourful women, cuz, from where I'm sitting? It looks a lot like I have a thing for curvy colourful women. Or, at least, one in particular."
Callie stared up at Derek. He was beautiful. Guy-beautiful. And he was sweet. She lifted her hand to his jaw. "Those are some pretty good arguments you've made there. Do you think we can remember all of those items when you're not seducing me with your blue eyes and your adorable nose?"
He chuckled then kissed the tip of her nose. "Oh, yeah, this is going to work. If you think my nose is cute? This is definitely going to work."
Five years later.
There was a picket fence; although she refused to allow him to paint it white.
And there was a giant, modern conveniences filled home; with a giant wrap around porch.
And there was a lot of music.
And a lot of laughter.
And two and a half kids. One beautiful dark haired, dark eyed boy and one beautiful dark haired, dark eyed girl.
She had daddy's smile and daddy's heart; he had mommy's smile and had her wrapped around his finger.
The 'half' of the 'two and a half'?
Callie had a surprise for Derek.