Title: The Morning After
Feedback address: firstname.lastname@example.org
Date in Calendar: 18 June 2008
Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy
Summary: The title says it all.
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DD08
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy and its characters are the property of Shonda Rhimes and ABC. No infringement intended.
Note: Special thanks to Cabenson for the quick read through and words of encouragement.
A very special thanks to Debbie for taking on the job of beta for this fic as well as all the others. Thanks, Deb, I truly do appreciate it.
AJ, Jenn – thanks for everything.
A loud yawn split the silence in the room, followed almost immediately by a soft groan from a second party. Callie smiled and snuggled closer to her lover, possessively throwing her leg over a nearby hip. She immediately froze, frowning slightly at the roundness she encountered - Mark usually felt so bony. Her confusion was compounded when another groan, a soft, feminine-sounding groan, sounded from the body she was currently pressed against. Callie’s eyes snapped open, and she frantically searched her surroundings.
Plantation shades covered the large window directly across from her, the upper louvers opened at an angle to allow the early morning sunlight to peek into the room. The walls were cream-colored with a soft faux finish, creating an inviting and comfortable setting, while elegant frames, holding black and white prints, mostly Escher-like in nature, were placed strategically on the walls. Callie instantly knew whose bed she was in, the realization unleashing vivid memories of the night before. She blushed.
A grumble left her bed partner’s lips as she flipped onto her back, the move causing Callie’s leg to come to rest snugly between the other woman’s. Eyes still closed, the sleeping woman smiled and then promptly fell back into a deeper sleep. Staying perfectly still, Callie held her breath and stared down at the blonde doctor, careful not to move for fear that she’d wake her lover. However, she couldn’t stop a grin from slowly forming on her lips – Erica was most definitely her lover.
Never in her 32 years had Callie felt so alive. When Erica had touched her the first time, it was as if she hadn’t been touched before. Their lovemaking was unrushed, and at first, Callie had thought Erica was just being cautious with her, trying to put her at ease, but she’d soon found out that wasn’t the case. It was the way a woman made love to another woman; first, a kiss, then a stroke, and then a caress. Completely feeling the other out, discovering what each woman liked until they both were confident in their actions. Callie couldn’t believe she’d settled all those years. She’d just had no idea how it was to feel so complete, so loved.
“Morning sunshine,” whispered Erica, feeling Callie’s eyes on her as she’d catnapped. Years of working double shifts had taught her the art of five minute naps while still being partially aware of her surroundings. It had served her well during her career as well as the times she’d needed to sneak away in the middle of the night to avoid the uncomfortable ‘morning after.’ This time, however, she had no intention of running away, and that was precisely why she’d suggested they go back to her place, that and having absolutely no desire of taking the chance that she’d run into Yang.
“Um, hey,” said Callie, her voice cracking with her words. Grimacing, she looked away, feeling like a complete idiot. A soft touch to her face brought her gaze back to clear blue eyes.
“Hey, it’s just me.” Erica ran her thumb along Callie’s cheekbone, pleased to see the other woman begin to relax. It was most definitely time for a lighter topic of conversation. “You hungry?”
Callie licked her lips, and Erica had to concentrate on not staring at the soft, pink appendage that she was growing quite fond of. Callie had been a very quick study.
“I could eat something.” Callie smiled. “You gonna serve me in bed?”
“I can’t cook. I figured if you were hungry, then you’d cook, and in turn, I’d get something to eat, too.” Erica broke out in a smug grin. Her plan had worked. Callie was totally at ease, and she just might end up getting breakfast out of the deal.
“How can you not know how to cook?” Callie lowered herself back onto the mattress, using her elbow to prop herself up. She’d never been this comfortable with someone so quickly, not even George.
“Um . . .” Erica pretended to ponder the question. “I just don’t?”
Callie chuckled. “I think you know how, but you’re just too lazy.”
“Hey, I’m not lazy; I really can’t cook.” Erica sat up, the sheet falling away and revealing her nude body. Callie swallowed hard but didn’t look away. Erica had been wrong; she could cook alright, just not in the kitchen. The memories of her lover’s mastery of the art made it difficult for Callie to continue with their teasing banter, but she managed to trudge forward.
“Well, I certainly can’t cook without the proper ingredients.” Callie made a mental list of what she’d need to whip up a Spanish omelet, figuring there was no way Erica had any eggs, much less potatoes or tomatoes.
Erica grinned smugly, her mind taking the same trip Callie’s had just a few minutes ago. “What ingredients do you need?”
“Huevos,” said Callie, adding an exaggerated Hispanic accent. Erica nodded her head in understanding, barely recalling the word from her high school Spanish class.
“I’ve got eggs. Next?”
“Patatas?” Callie knew Erica would figure this one out. It sounded so much like the English pronunciation.
“Check.” Baked potatoes were actually the only thing Erica knew how to cook besides hard boiled eggs, but she figured neither actually counted since there wasn’t any real preparation involved.
“Tomates?” Another word Erica should figure out, and she did.
“Yep, a former patient of Bailey’s brought in a bagful the other day, and she distributed them to whoever was around.”
Callie was certain she’d stump Erica with the next ingredient, both in translation and availability. “Cebollas?”
“Horse? You put horse meat in your omelet?” Erica tilted her head in confusion; she’d definitely lost her appetite.
Throwing her head back, Callie gave out a rich laugh. “Not caballos, cebollas – onions.”
“Oh, well, that’s different. I think I have an onion.” Erica sometimes added onion to her baked potato, but it had been awhile since she’d done so. She just hoped the one she had hadn’t sprouted roots and grown into the vegetable bin.
“That’s good.” Callie moved on to the final three ingredients. “I’m assuming you have sal y pimiento molida, so all that’s left is aceite de oliva.” Callie was quite impressed that Erica actually had something other than frozen dinners in her kitchen.
Erica stared at the other woman, having no idea if she had any of the things Callie had just named off. She assumed that she had the first two since Callie believed she did, but she had no idea what the last item was. Save for the oliva.
“I don’t have any olives.”
“No, olive oil. I need it to cook the rest of the ingredients.”
Erica frowned. She hadn’t actually been all that hungry, but the omelet sounded quite tasty. “Can’t you cook in something else?”
“It won’t be as good. What other type of oil do you have?”
Callie sighed. “I guess the omelet is out then. I can’t very well conjure up any oil.”
Disappointment gave way to cheekiness – something it often did for Erica Hahn. “You could always cook in your own juices.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down for extra effect.
Callie turned crimson. She should have known better than to set Erica up like that. The other woman seldom let a good comeback pass her by. She tried for a save.
“Nope, has to be olive oil.”
“Guess we’ll have to find something else to eat then.” Erica slid her hand to Callie’s hip and pulled her closer.
“What else could there possibly be?” Callie resumed her earlier position, strategically placing her leg back into its proper place. She added pressure for good measure. Erica moaned.
“I imagine we could come up with something.”
Callie just smiled her reply as she inched closer and closer, making sure to keep eye contact with the other woman. Erica eased both hands to Callie’s hips and guided her the rest of the way. Lips met in a gentle kiss.
Breakfast was definitely overrated.