Title Sunlight In Winter
chap 3/3 Me and You
Author Devylish
Pairing Derek/Callie
Words 5502
AN Derek and Callie both a little, okay a lot, tired of life as they know it, they find themselves bumping in to one another and maybe, saving one another.
Warning end of the last season referred to
Disclaimer On my profile.


Do not look at the giant pink elephant standing in the middle of the room.

As a matter of fact, don't even think about it.

… that's right, keep your mind off of the swishing tail. And the gently flapping and folding ears. Ignore the fuchsia pink skin. And the bright pink eyes.

Do not pay any attention to the giant pink elephant standing in the middle of the room.




Yeah. Right.

Ever since Yang had pointed out the 'pink elephant in the room' Callie had found it pretty impossible to keep her eyes... or her mind off of the pachyderm.

The pachyderm being Derek Shepherd and his sort of, kind of, suddenly being hot.

She'd always known he was cute. She'd always thought he was a decent guy. But in the past few months while they'd been spending more and more time together – out of necessity. Out of comfort – Callie had become hyper aware of him. Hyper aware of his blue eyes. And his perfect hair. And his OMG adorable smile. And she' been forced by Yang's uncanny observational skills to see that she might, kind of, want him.

Stupid Yang.

Stupid grinning Yang.

Stupid, good looking, kind, wheedle-his-way-into-a-girls-mind Shepherd.

Stupid pink elephants.


"Can you call Addison off?" Derek hung up his phone and growled in Mark's direction.

"You know Addison, when she gets something in her mind, she isn't satisfied until she sees it all the way through."

Derek dropped his phone in to the bottom of his bag and grabbed his jacket out of the locker, "Which is fine when what she wants is something for her, but this isn't about her."

"She's just worried about you. And Callie."

Derek threw his hands up. "There is no me and Callie. I keep telling Addison," he shot a glare at Mark, "and you, that there's no Derek and Callie. There's just Derek," he moved his hands in the shape of a square, "and Callie," he shifted his hands to the right and waved them in the shape of an hourglass. "Two separate … things."

Mark crossed his arms as he leaned against the row of lockers. "Yeah, well, unfortunately for you, Addison thinks your square and Callie's curvy thing go well together." He pushed away from the lockers, "And I can't say I disagree with her."

With a groan, Derek dropped down on to the bench and rubbed his eyes. "Is there anything I can do to convince you two you're barking up the wrong tree?"

Mark grinned, "1) stop smiling so much when you're around Callie, 2) stop spending all of your free time with Callie, 3) stop making every other word out of your mouth be about 'Callie'. Do those three small things and maybe I can convince Addie to let the dream go."

Derek was screwed. He knew he was screwed. He was spending all of his non work time with Callie. And she did make him smile – all the time. And she was all he wanted to talk about. But he also knew, knew Callie/Derek, Derek/Callie was something that could never happen. Callie was so out of his league, it was like they were playing entirely different games.

Oh, he was pretty certain she liked him – found him to be a nice guy – but she liked her men to be, well, most recently, she liked her men to be women. And prior to that, she'd liked her men to be... Mark.

Derek lifted his head and looked at his friend. "I always kind of thought you and Callie would make a go of it."

Mark raised a brow, "I think we were close to it... a couple of times, but..." he paused. "I can commit. And I do want a family, but I'm not as..." he paused again. "Callie? As unique and one of a kind as she is? She's really pretty traditional. She wants a picket fence. And 4.5 kids and two dogs and a cat. It was like we wanted the same things, but not in the same ways. One or two kids, and I'll be good. 3 bedroom apartment on Miller Row? Perfect. And I only like dogs and cats when they belong to someone else." Mark smiled, "For Callie and I, it was never a matter of not caring for one another, or not a matter of wanting the same things, but more a matter of degrees."

"And you and Addison?"

"Want a three bedroom apartment on Miller Row to house our 1.5 kids."

Derek nodded his head in understanding.

Mark added, "I seem to recall that you, my friend, still own a piece of property that's just perfect for building a six bedroom, picket fenced house on."


Mark lifted his hands innocently, "I'm just saying."


Callie had sleepover clothes at Derek's place.

They weren't her clothes. They were his. A rotation of faded Boston University t shirts and sweatpants. They were pulled out of the closet for her whenever she stayed over. Freshly washed even if she had just stayed over the night before.

Which was happening more and more often.

He didn't want her trekking home in the dark – it was dangerous out there.

It was too late for her to leave, by the time she got home and got settled for bed, she'd have to get up to go to work.

She didn't have to work tomorrow, so she could stay a little longer... heck, stay over.

She couldn't say exactly when it became their 'thing' for her to stay over. But she did remember the discussion that started their thing of sharing the bed.

It was the fifth or sixth time that she'd stayed over, and Derek had gallantly opted for the couch each time. And she was feeling guilty.

"Seriously Derek, take the bed. I'll take the couch. It's your place."

"And you're a guest."

"I'm not a guest anymore. I'm... I'm a friend. I'll take the couch."

"You're a 'girl' friend. You're not taking the couch."

Hands on hips, Callie had stared at Derek. "You're not winning this argument. You win all of our arguments, but this one... no. I'm not going to be responsible for SGH's Neurology superstar surgeon throwing out his back because I made him sleep on a sofa. Weber would kill me. I'll take the couch."

"I'm not an invalid Callie, I can handle sleeping on the couch... I and my back can handle sleeping on the couch. It's really pretty comfortable."

"Then let me have it."

"My mother would never forgive me if I let a female guest camp out on the couch. It's not happening."

"So because I have ovaries you won't let me sleep on the couch?"

He shrugged. "Basically."

"Okay, fine. I'm going home then."

"Callie, it's after midnight, you have to be at the hospital at six a.m., just... stay, take the bed, we can figure something else out another night."

Callie picked up her leather jacket and started to put it on, only stopping when Derek stuttered out, "Fine, we – we can share. The bed."

They could share the bed.

One sheet, one blanket, one comforter, two pillows... and just the two of them.

"We could... we...," Callie swallowed hard and felt the jacket she'd started to put on, slipping back off. "I...,"she grabbed the bull by the horns, "Pick which side of the bed you want." She avoided eye contact and simply reached out for the bed clothes he'd already pulled out for her and headed into the bathroom.


We could share? Shepherd! What the...! There's no way you can share a bed with Torres. No way! Not without... He groaned.


They pretended they weren't crossing a line when they turned off the bedside lamp and the room was enveloped in darkness. Friends could share a bed – platonically. Without it meaning or leading to anything.



- Six weeks later -


"Taylor Swift?" Callie held up the CD – a grimace on her face. "Are you kidding me?"

"What? She's good." Derek put the trough of nachos he'd just made down onto the coffee table and padded, barefoot, back in to the kitchen.

"No. Really, she's not." Callie put the CD in the 'toss' pile. "Besides," she raised her voice, "She's blonde."

"So I can't even listen to music by blondes anymore?" He headed back out of the kitchen, two bottles of beer in one hand and napkins in his other hand.

"You can listen to blondes. Blondes who have talent. I'm letting you keep your Madonna CDs." Callie reached in to the box that sat closest to her and pulled out another handful of discs. "Although, if you want to keep your man-card, you might not want to share that fact with Sloan or Weber or... well, anyone." She reached up and accepted the bottle he handed to her.

"I'm not worried about my man-card, thanks."

"Securely attached huh?" Callie smiled as she took a sip.

"Tattooed in place." He reached for the remote and turned the TV on. "So remind me, what do I get when the Pats beat the Dolphins?" He muted the sports-center newscasters.

"You won't be getting anything, because the Patriots are losers; that being said, on the off chance the Patriots pull out a win against the Dolphins, I will do your dishes every day for the next two weeks." Callie put her beer on the coffee table and turned to face Derek. "Now if you could remind me, please, what I'm going to get when the pukey Pats get their asses handed to them by the Dolphins?"

Derek grinned, "I go with you to your sister's pre-engagement engagement party."

"And suffer from the oohs and ahhs and petting that all of the women there will give you."

"And how again is oohing and ahhing and petting 'torture'?"

"Aria's friends and our aunts," Callie rolled her eyes, "would only be petting you because you're a doctor... A Catholic, single, cute doctor."

Derek grinned. His grin broadened as Callie pinkened upon realizing she'd just called him cute to his face.

Callie turned back to the discs she was working with. "Shut up and turn the volume on."

Derek laughed but did as he was told.


They had been faux living together for almost two months. Callie sleeping over at Derek's apartment nearly every night, Derek grocery shopping and cooking for 'two' ... everyone... and yeah I mean everyone, thinking that they were an item. Even Mrs. Groschek, the little old woman who lived on the first floor in the apartment at the front of Derek's building thought they were a couple.

"So are you and your girl going to get married?"

Derek stopped, looked around the hall and realized that, yes, Mrs. Groschek was speaking to him. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You, and your girl," She paused over the name, "Callie? Are you two getting married any time soon? I don't approve of these long drawn out living together situations. You either should be together or you shouldn't. And every woman and every man deserves to have someone they know will be waiting for them when they come home at night." She sniffed then whispered conspiratorially, "well every woman except that Miss Challett on 4. She's... well, she's just not nice. Now your Callie, she's nice. Picks up my paper for me when she comes in. And always smiling. Such a beautiful smile." Mrs. Groschek winked at Derek, "Especially when she comes downstairs in the morning." A blush crossed Mrs. Groschek's faded cheeks before she cleared her throat and straightened her already impossibly straight shoulders. "But I still don't approve of the 'test driving' you young folks do these days." She stepped closer to Derek. "You two need to get married. You seem to make each other happy. You're definitely much happier than you were when you moved in to the Pointe Arms." Without waiting for a response she backed away. "If you tell me when the marriage is, I'll make your fiancee a handkerchief for the wedding."

Calling to her cat who was wandering the hall, Mrs. Groschek smiled at Derek and closed the door to her apartment.

You're definitely much happier than you were when you moved in to the Pointe Arms... Mrs. Groschek's words followed him as he climbed the stairs to his apartment.

He was. Happier.

He hadn't felt this... content in years.

Turning the key in the lock, Derek opened his apartment door. His eyes took in the the space that Callie had, more or less, inhabited with him for the past two or so months. A space that had become a home. A couple of carpets were now strategically placed in the room – one beneath the bed and one in front of the couch. Throw pillows – in red, and far more comfortable than he'd ever admit – lay on each end of the couch. A small stereo, with an iPod – gift from Callie (filled with the music she'd 'allowed' him to keep – and songs she'd introduced him to) sat on a side table next to the couch.

The bed, previously blanketed with a white down comforter, was now dressed with four pillows and a dark red duvet.

The walls were covered with black and white pictures... Pictures of Boston, his family, even the blown up picture of a neuro-synapses.

Everything in the apartment spoke to him.

All of the little changes whispered 'home'.

And he suddenly realized it was all because of Callie.


"Definitely the red ones."

"You think?" Callie tilted her right foot to the left, gazing at it in the mirror.

"The black ones are nice; and if you were going for a whole, 'fuck me at the office in my business suit' look they'd be the ones."

"Addison!" Callie hissed and glanced around the nearly empty shoe store.


Addison leaned back on her hands and continued as if she hadn't been interrupted. "Now the red ones, with that first dress..., or even the third dress we bought? They scream 'I'm a woman in charge and I will be the one doing the fucking.'"

Callie walked back to the bench Addison was seated on, a red shoe on one foot, a black one on the other, and sat down next to her redheaded friend. "I don't want my shoes saying anything about," she lowered her voice with another look around the store "fucking."

"Uh, huh."

"Addison, it's my sister's engagement party."

"And you're going with Derek."

"He lost a bet."

"And you're wearing a hot dress."

"It's my sister's engagement party."

"And for that you need a hot dress?"

"I want to look nice." Callie mumbled as she unstrapped the shoes.

"For your sister."

"For my sister."

"Uh huh."


Callie pushed the door of Derek's apartment open, her hands filled with shoe bags and garment bags and, in general, enough purchases to put her in debt for two months.

She probably should have taken the new goods to 'her' apartment, but, honestly, she hadn't seen the inside of her place in a week, and, well, she wanted to show the shoes, if not the dresses, to Derek.

Not that she really wanted his opinion, but...

With a sigh she waddled in to the apartment and kicked the door shut behind her. With a second sigh she dropped her keys on the floor and looked up to see Derek standing in front of the bed, his hands in his pockets. And he was watching her.

"Hi. I know, I know... I went shopping. I blame Addison. And Aria. And the fact that I'm a girl." She grinned at him. "But, I'll probably return some of these, I just couldn't make up my mind in the store." She started releasing the paper and plastic bags she'd walked in with but was stopped short when she looked up again and found Derek standing right in front of her. She rolled her eyes questioningly. "Wha -?"

Derek took a deep breath, lifted his hand to Callie's neck and pulled her towards him, dipping his head towards hers.

Before she could register what was happening, Callie found herself in Derek's arms, his lips against hers.

I'm kissing her.

He's kissing me.

Callie's hands, still filled with bags and clothes and shoes, clenched around the handles as she leaned in to Derek's touch; in to his kiss. And it was more than she'd imagined it would be.

And yes she'd imagined this. Forget what she'd told Yang. What she'd told Addison. She'd had daydreams, thoughts, wishes..., she'd wanted this to happen.

She'd never thought it would actually happen. But she'd wanted it. And here she was; here he was, and it was better than she'd dared hope.

And then he stopped, pulling away, just a bit, brushing the tip of his nose against hers in a slow, gentle fashion. His breath was shallow and warm against her cheek as he whispered. "I'm going to back away now... don't slap me. Okay?"

Callie wasn't quite thinking coherently. She couldn't do anything more than stare at him as he stepped back leaving one hand on her waist. Her eyes were glassy and her lips parted, and all she wanted was to have him pull her back into his arms.

With his free hand he reached up and brushed her bangs away from the side of her face. And Callie, thought for a moment, just for a moment that she saw a look in his eyes. A look she knew she couldn't really be seeing, and she managed to get five words out of her mouth. "What the hell was that?"

"Unless I've been doing it wrong all these years, that, was a kiss." His answer was delivered a little more nervously than he'd intended.

"No. That was definitely a kiss," Callie offered with a faint flush. "I meant, why was there a kiss." She looked at his eyes again. "Between you. And me. A kiss. Why?"

Because I've wanted to kiss you ever since the night you propositioned me? Because you're beautiful? Because I'm a man and you're most definitely a woman? Because you made me happy when I didn't think I would ever be happy again? He offered up a paltry: "I have a lot to thank you for."

Callie blinked. And then she blinked again. And then, stepping away form his grasp she slowly released her grasp on her bags. "A lot to thank me for?" She raised a brow and looked back at him. "Is the kissing thing how you thank all of your friends?"

Divested of the shoes and dresses/plastic and paper she'd been carrying, Callie put more distance between herself and Derek; moving to the end of the far end of the couch.

Derek ran his fingers through his hair. "I – okay, uh, I do owe you a lot. But -" He paused then tackled the situation from another direction. "So, uhm, do you still only play on the all girls team?"

"Do I -?" Momentary confusion followed by understanding, was followed by a short chuckle. "I... I still find women attractive, but," she wondered what Derek's question had to do with the 'hello' kiss she'd just received. Lifting her fingers to her lips, she continued, "but I've never really stopped being a fan of the male league."


"Both teams have a lot going for them."

Derek stuck his hands in his pockets. "So it's possible, maybe, that you could imagine yourself dating – a guy – at some time in the future?"

She held her breath for a second then answered, "The right guy."

He nodded his head. "Okay."


Derek mentally grabbed his balls and cracking his head from one side to the other, he walked over to where Callie sat. "Would you like to play with me?"

As soon as he realized what he'd asked – how he'd asked it – Derek closed his eyes and hung his head. Jesus Christ! "I really didn't mean to say that that way."

He opened one eye and then the other to see Callie doubled up on the couch silently laughing at him.

He cracked a smile. "It's not that funny."

"Yes," she chuckled. "It kind of is." Chuckle. And as she eyed him standing there looking at the ground wishing he could rephrase his question, Callie realized – again – just how cute he was. And how sweet, and so much more than she had ever thought he would be. And suddenly felt that reckless, unexpected spark of attraction that had make her hit on him so many weeks ago hit her again. She stood up, her body inches away form his.

"Just to clarify, were you trying to ask me if I'd play on your team? With you?"

He made eye contact and stepped a little closer to her, "Well... if I was asking you to play on my team, with me, what would your answer be?"

Callie smiled at the fragile little steps … forward and backwards and forwards... She'd always loved dancing; she'd just never thought she'd be dancing – this dance – with Derek. She opened her mouth, but before she could think of a witty, playful, seductive answer, he took control of the situation.

Derek whispered a quiet, frustrated 'screw it' and lifting his hands, he cupped Callie's face, pulling her the remaining inch or two that separated them and he kissed her... again.

Their first kiss had been surprising and delicious and a little tentative.

This kiss was … it was still delicious, but it was also demanding, and hungry.

It was the start of an exquisite, delicious, dance.


Callie pulled the elastic out of hair, rain her fingers through her escaping tresses then quickly wrapped everything back up into a loose bun.

Reaching for the files she needed to review she started to flip through them.

She was still sorting though the papers when Yang, with her own stack of papers, settled on to a stool next to her at the nurses station.

Thunking them down next to Callie, Cristina reached across the desk for a pen. "I hate paperwork. I hate people and I hate paperwork. They barely pay me enough money to deal with people, they definitely don't pay me enough to deal with all of this paperwork!"

Callie chuckled in agreement.

Using her own pen, she made a quick note on an order and dashed off a signature. Flipping the sheet of paper over in to the 'done' pile. She began to silently read the next order.

Silently, that is, until Cristina began to crow, "Oh. My. God! You had sex! You HAD sex!"

Callie's head shot up and she looked around the hall anxiously. "What –?"

"You had sex! I can totally tell you had -". Callie slapped her hand over Yang's mouth again and glared at her slender friend.

"You can lick my hand all you want, it's staying right where it is until you promise to stop using the..." She glanced around the station again, "the 'S' word."

Yang's eyes narrowed and she glared back at Callie.


Yang gave a short, frustrated nod and Callie carefully released her grip on her friend.

Yang's visible frustration gave way to a smile as she looked Callie up and down. "I'm sorry but you so totally had -" she paused as Callie leaned in towards her again. Grinning, Yang chose another 'S' word. "You sot totally had Shepherd. You had a roll in the hay with Shepherd! And damn, it looks like it was a good roll. Spill! How was he? Where'd it happen? How'd it happen? Have you two declared your 'love' for one another yet? Holly Shit! Wait until I pass this in front of Grey. And Bailey! Holy shit! I knew you and Shepherd were gonna happen!"

Callie offered a weak denial. "Yang, you're seeing things that don't exist again."

"Oh, so I suppose I'm 'imagining' that hickey then?"

Callie quickly lifted her hand to hoer collarbone before realizing her reaction was confirmation of Yang's uncanny senses/guesswork.


Yang bounced happily on her seat. "So there IS hickeyness!"

"Will a cash payment shut you up?"

"Nope! This is far too good to sell out for." Cristina put down her pen and leaned forward. "You don't need to go in to detail – I think Shepherd sex tales just might make me puke – but give me a rough outline of what happened. And if at all possible," she smirked and held up her hands and motioned, "give me the long and short of it. And I'm assuming it was long? I mean the slender guys are always packing."

Callie trumpeted, "Jesus Yang!" But even as she exclaimed she couldn't quite bite back the smile that crept across her face. "Fine. Okay. Yes I had sex. Yes it was with Shepherd. Yes it was... pretty amazing. And no, you can't share this information with Grey, or Bailey or … anyone."

Yang pouted and opened her mouth to argue, but Callie beat her to it by adding, as she stood up, "And, Uhm, I think your theory regarding slender guys? Totally accurate."

"Holy shit." Yang watched as Callie gathered her goods. "I am so buying us a bottle of tequila and getting the rest of the story out of you." yang reached in to her lab coat pocket and pulled out her phone. "But first," she mumbled, "I'm going to text Addison and let her know I win our little bet."

Callie escaped down the hall, a small smile playing on her lips. A smile started because of Yang's inordinate excitement over Callie's sex life. The smile continued because of her memories of last night. Her memories of being with the man who'd become her friend, her salvation, and was now, her lover.

Turning the hall corner she nearly yipped when a hand slid around her waste and she found herself being guided in to an empty office.

She 'nearly' yipped, but she didn't; instead, she smiled and turned in to the arms she'd already grown to recognize.


"Hi." Derek locked the door behind them and smiled when Callie raised a brow. "I missed you." He nearly groaned out loud when Callie's face lit with her beautiful smile. He reached out and pulled the stack of papers she held out of her arms and dropped them on to the desk that stood behind her. Moving his hands to her hips, he pulled her against his frame. "Did you miss me?" He voice was low and teasing.

Callie shook her head negatively before offering, softly, "I haven't stopped thinking about you long enough to miss you."

"Did you just say something mushy to me?"

"Nope. Clearly your ears aren't working."

"Fortunately for me, I have other parts that are working." He slid his hand under the edge of her scrub top, his fingers sending electricity along her skin.

"So I see," she bit her lip as she felt his hardening length pressed against her stomach.

"Are you free for the next, fifteen, twenty minutes?"

Callie tucked her head to the side and traced the tip of her tongue along Derek's Adam's apple, smiling when he groaned and his fingers dug in to her hip.

"...make that thirty minutes?"

She chuckled, "I have a consult in,mmm forty five minutes."

"I can work with forty five minutes."

Moving both hands to the bottom of her scrubs he tugged upwards, quickly divesting her of her top.

Because he could, now, Derek let his eyes scan Callie's chest; a black bra made of lace and satin covered her breasts and he grinned.

"They're not candy, Derek."

"I think they kind of are." He lifted his hands to the bottom of the bra, pushing it up until it rested above her exposed tits. With a quick glance back up at Callie's eyes, Derek grinned and lowered his mouth to her nipples. The flat of his tongue rasped along the bottom of her left nipple as he lightly sucked against the puckered flesh. With his left hand he cupped and slowly massaged her right breast.

Callie had always been sensitive, to touch, but to Derek's touch, it was insane. He seemed to magically build a direct connection between his fingers... or his lips... or... or … his... she hissed as he used his teeth to gently pull at her nipple. And yeah, there was that connection again... her nerve endings began to dance; humming in response to his touch.

Curling her fingers though his hair – and she was fucking in love with his hair – ridiculously so – she gave a soft moan of encouragement.

Not that he really needed the encouragement, Derek had proven himself to be nothing if not dedicated when it came to paying attention to Callie.

He dropped his hands to the edge of Callie's scrub pants, tugging at the draw string and pushing her panties and pants down her hips. He smiled when he felt her copying him – undoing his pants and pressing at them until they dropped down his legs.

Shuffling closer to her he backed them up until she was settled against the desk.

"Ever done it in an office before?" Callie asked suddenly.

"Elevator, exam room, on call room..., never an office." His hand slid between her legs and Callie's voice hitched.

"So I'm kind of your first?"

He chuckled, "you do realize we had sex last night don't you? Lots of sex? In a variety of positions?"

Lifting her thigh and wrapping it around Derek's hip, Callie gave him better access to her center, and at the same time, she returned the favor.

Stroking her palm along his exposed length, Callie's voice dropped in to little inconsequential, nonsensical words of pleasure.

Two of his fingers – his so talented fingers – delved into Callie's warmth with a steady even stroke. He ignored the way she moved her body even closer to the edge of the desk – even closer to his fingers. He kept his motions steady, even as his own body jerked in response to Callie's ministrations.

"Callie..." he rasped.

"Hmmm?" Her voice was unnaturally high pitched as she worked to get both of them off.

"This weekend...?"

Callie breathed in as derek curled his fingers upwards. "Hmmm mmmmm?"

"Your sister, ughh hmmm, are you going to tell her we're, ughhhh, together?"


"Together. You and me, Jesus, officially."

Her eyes caught his and she read the question lying behind the blues. The question that was slightly bigger than the words he'd spoken.

She blinked, then closed her eyes as she felt him pull her fingers out of her and replace h them with his cock – which brushed just along her entrance. "I ."

"Say yes."

"Mmmm." Her eyes blinked open as he filled her with one smooth purposeful stroke. "Yang knows." she blurted out as she dug her short nails in to his shoulders.

He smiled, "you might not want to, God, uhmm, bring up Yang while we're doing this."

"She'll tell everyone."

"Is that a bad thing?" One his hands rested on her breast, the other teased at her clit.

Callie looked up at him, her eyes unfocused with desire as he tapped at her clit with his thumb.

Derek chuckled before leaning in and touching his lips to hers again – softly. He tried one last time. "So it's me and you... officially?"

"Mmm, yes. YES! Right... yes! Derek!"

He vaguely realized he'd have to ask her the question again... at some time when he wasn't lost in her... following her down into the warm, dark, tunnel-visioned sweetness of cumming with her.