Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy
Author's Note: I'm slowly working on a sequel to "The Four Letter Word" but after Thursday's episode this little idea got stuck in my head and I couldn't avoid it. I hope you all enjoy it!
Summary: "Does she mention me? I know she writes to you, so I'm asking you if she's mentioned me." Arizona and Teddy keep in touch.
Dr. Teddy Altman entered her apartment.
She dropped her purse by the door and flung her jacket across the room. She yawned as she dragged her feet across the space; making a beeline for her bedroom. She hadn't eaten in hours but food could wait. She had worked the night shift from hell and she wanted nothing more than to sleep; despite the fact that the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon. She pushed open her bedroom door and took three long steps to her window. She pulled her blinds shut tight before turning and collapsing onto her bed.
Teddy grunted as a hard object hit her chest, not the comforting feeling she had been expecting. She rolled onto her back to see she had landed on her laptop.
Unable to stop herself, Teddy picked up the object and laid it on her stomach; pressing the "On" button. She blinked, her eyes struggling to adjust to the bright light of the screen.
Opening her email Teddy sighed, feeling her stomach drop at the string of notifications from the internet dating site she had applied to. She knew she should have taken pride at the fact that so many men were interested in her. But then again, she wondered why she seemed to only be attractive online.
Teddy scrolled down the rows; clicking delete, not caring who or what was asking to meet her until she came upon a message that made her pause. She smiled and clicked it open.
Sorry it's taken so long for me to respond, things here have gotten quite hectic over the past few days. Yesterday I operated on a little girl with Short-Gut Syndrome. Seeing the joy on her parents' faces when they knew their daughter would be okay only reaffirmed that I've made the right decision.
How has your quest into online dating gone? Not too horrible I hope. As your best friend, it is my duty to tell you to steer clear of all men who may seem like they have axes waiting in their cars. Or toupees. You don't need a rug watching you while you try to enjoy Foie Gras.
I finally got around to taking pictures of the crafts the kids in Peds made me before I left. If I send them to you would you be able to get them to Karev? I'd like him to be the one to share them with the kids.
How's the weather? I've been meaning to ask. I left in that awful storm and I know the days following awful weather were just as miserable as the storm itself. But it's been a month now and I can't help but wonder how it has been.
Here it's been…different. I don't think I've ever seen so much sun. Though, ever since I've arrived there has been this tiny, little cloud hovering nearby. I told a young boy the other day that I thought the cloud was following me. He laughed but I don't think he understood; I've yet to master the language barrier. We have translators but they can't follow us everywhere, which makes things difficult to say the least.
But it's there, that tiny cloud, just…hovering. It reminds me of home. I miss it, you know, Seattle's weather.
I miss it a lot.
I hope you're well.
Teddy smiled sadly as the letter finished. She looked to her left at her shaded window. Slowly, she rose, feeling her exhaustion run through her blood and her muscles protested the movement.
She pulled back the blinds. The sky was clear, another rare sunny day in Seattle. It had been that way for the past week. Nothing but clear blue skies. It was freezing, winter slowly approaching. But the sun was shining and the streets had been busy with people milling about, eager for a chance to be out before they were forced to hibernation.
Sighing, Teddy closed the blinds once more and turned back to her bed. She settled into her pillows, pulling her laptop back to her lap; she clicked "Reply".
Teddy began to type.
Arizona Robbins was half asleep.
The loud buzzing of a dial-tone clicked to a stop and jumped, her head slipping from her hand as she jerked awake. She blinked, looking to her sides. Alone, she sat in the small lobby of the equally small hotel she now called home. The room had two desks with two computers that Arizona swore were from nineteen-ninety-two.
Having long been a lover to all new technical gadgets Arizona had all but forgotten the frustration of waiting for a dial-up connection. But here next to the middle-of-nowhere this all but ancient way of communicating was her only hope.
With a sigh, Arizona shook the last remains of exhaustion from her head and clicked the tab for Email. The screen went white and the tiny bars in the corner of the screen slowly began to fill.
To say it made things frustrating were an understatement. It took her hours just to respond to a few emails. She knew she should be thankful, to have this communication, to be able to keep in touch with her old life at all. It was this or mail and as slow as dial-up was, written correspondence would be so much more of a torture.
So she waited, when small opportunities of time presented themselves, for the dial-tone to click and pages to load. At least, in these small moments of time, she could rest.
The page finally loaded and Arizona scrolled through her mail.
Mom and Dad.
Her sister-in-law Angie and her nephew Luke.
Her Cousin Joe.
Arizona smiled and clicked open. The page loaded faster then she expected and she nearly laughed out loud as she began to read.
Online dating is a bitch. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea. I'm almost tempted to look at the site you mentioned when I first had the idea. Maybe a woman will solve my problems.
Feel free to send the pictures. I'll make sure Karev gets them. He'd probably kill me for saying this but he misses you. Dr. Stark, your current stand-in, isn't exactly sunshine and rainbows. He does good work, don't get me wrong but he's no replacement.
Actually, screw Karev. We all miss you.
The weather has been-touch and go, to say the least. One minute there's a down-pour and the next it's clear, but the clouds are always there. I was hoping for some sun this week but haven't seen any yet. It's getting cold too. Most of the time all we can do is stay inside and try to keep warm. At the hospital, at home, at Joe's; anywhere we can, just to stay out of the cold.
I'm sure things will calm soon, though. Storms never last long.
Don't let the language barrier deter you. When I was in Baghdad I found using hand motions was a great help. Then again, I was usually accompanied by a man with a rifle.
Happy to hear you're keeping busy and doing the good you had hoped for.
The laugh had quickly died as Arizona's eyes traveled down the screen; until she was left with the deep lines of a frown. Feeling the deep sinking of her stomach, she clicked the "X" in the far corner of the screen watching the page close.
With a sigh, Arizona pushed her chair from the desk and stood. She gathered her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder with practiced ease. As she walked towards the door she pulled her hair back, pulling the tie tighter than was necessary.
The bright sun met her as she exited the hotel. She squinted, waiting as her eyes adjusted to the light. She walked a little, turning a corner to a small secluded alley where no one would see her. Carefully, she set her backpack on the ground, fumbling through the pockets until she found what she had been looking for.
She a pulled a single cigarette from the pack and threw the rest back into the bag. Leaning casually against the wall, Arizona twirled the small object in her fingers. She shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't. She didn't even know why she had bought them. But she had. And she had one now.
So she did.
Pulling out her lighter, she inhaled deeply as she lit the cigarette.
Exhaling, Arizona turned her head, blowing the smoke away. She watched as the gray swirled up until it disappeared and she was met with nothing but the clear blue sky and the bright sun.
She wondered if she was facing Seattle. She wondered what the weather was like now. What it would be like tomorrow. What it would be like in a week, a month, a year.
What would it be like in two years, ten months, two weeks, two days, and four hours?
Arizona took a long drag from her smoke.
Not that she was counting.