DISCLAIMER: Watch out, this is femslash. Don't read it if you're not into that sort of thing. I own nothing of Grey's Anatomy. I'm only having fun with speculation to carry me through the summer.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've noticed there's little, if any, fanfic out there written strictly from Hahn's point of view. Yet. So I thought I'd contribute my two cents, since I'm about as in love with Erica Hahn as Callie Torres is! This is my second Grey's Anatomy story, and – as in the first one – it makes an assumption about Hahn's sexual orientation that may turn out to be untrue (oh, but I hope not). This is not a sequel to my first story, Your Mouth That I Remember, but if you want it to be, then it is! Written in May, 2008. Note one shout-out to the Bard. Thanks, Will. Much of this chapter is just pure-dee filthy, so don't come crying to me if your eyes start to bleed, okay? You've been warned! That said, I tried to make this chapter a little more than just a "they fucked" story (though it is that). If you think I succeeded, and you have some time, I ask that you PLEASE go back to FanFiction.net and post a review, being clear you're reviewing Chapter 2, even if you have to do it without logging in. OTOH, if you think I didn't even come close, I'd appreciate knowing that, too, as long as you're not mean about it. Thank you a thousand times! Undying thanks will always go to my Mighty Editor Goddess, Brenda S. Further thanks, undying and otherwise, goes to Jules68, first, for her invaluable insight into the tiny workings of Grey's Anatomy, without which I would have seriously erred in this chapter.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Closets are for Clothing
By DianeB


Chapter 2

The third kiss, blistering hot as it was, helped to remind Erica that they were still in front of the hospital and she had not yet found her keys.

"Callie," she said, breaking the lip lock with an audible smack, and taking a deep breath, "much as I hate to let go of you, we can't make out like teenagers in front of the hospital all night."

Callie ran her tongue so seductively over her lips Erica was heartily tempted to forget what she had just said and simply take Callie right there on the bench. Unfortunately, she was afraid the woman would like it too much.

Callie lowered her eyelids to half-mast and then gazed up at Erica through thick, dark lashes. "Right. Teenagers would find a darker place." She let her eyes drop shut, and spoke in one exhaled breath, her hands flexing nervously. "I want you so much right now, I want to touch you so much, you know that, don't you?"

Oh, my. Nearby car windows were beginning to steam up. The dear Doctor Sloan had nothing on this gorgeous woman. "C'mon, we've got to get out of here before I lay you down on this bench," Erica hissed, pointing to the bench for emphasis.

Right on cue and exactly as Erica feared, Callie grinned wickedly, opened her eyes just enough to shift them to the bench and back to Erica, and said simply, "Dare ya."

It was definitely time to go.

With her keys still in the ether and neither of them wishing to begin their bliss in the den of iniquity they were standing outside of, their options for where to go were rather limited. The apartment Callie shared with Yang was out for several reasons, the first being Yang herself. Erica was not prepared to face the woman, not tonight, anyway. She was wise enough to know dealing with Yang was coming, but she didn't want it to be this night.

The second reason, though scarcely less important, was the highly impractical fact that Callie slept on the couch.

Okay, figuring Yang was still at the hospital anyway, they did give the couch a few moments of serious consideration, because it was certainly big and comfy enough for activities other than sleeping, but neither woman cared to imagine what would happen if Yang walked in on them.

No, it would have to be the Homewood Suites Hotel, located only a few blocks away, which they agreed seemed seedy, even though it was a first-rate hotel. But real life was never like the movies or even television, so Homewood it was.

After getting past the awkward business of check-in, including having to endure faintly disapproving looks from the hotel concierge because they had no luggage, they arrived outside a room on the fourteenth floor. On the way, Erica bitched about the man's lack of professionalism. Callie just laughed and told her to hold her water, which only reminded Erica that she had to pee.

Once inside, Erica went immediately to the bathroom, and sat for a moment on the toilet, pondering her day up to now. If anyone had told her that losing her keys would bring her to this place, she'd've told them they were whacked and pointed them in Doctor Wyatt's direction.

Yet here she was.

Worried, however, that earlier passion may have cooled with time and relocation, she finished up, stepped out of the bathroom, and looked around for Callie.

She need not have worried. Callie, still standing by the door, was fairly quivering with suppressed longing. "Teach me," she whispered, dropping her purse and moving toward Erica, her voice choked with need, her face a vision of yearning. "Teach me everything."

At this, in spite of the raw look Callie was giving her, Erica could not help but be amused. To Callie, she said, in her best butch voice, "Honey, I don't know everything, but I'll certainly give it my best shot."

Deciding there couldn't have been a more perfect opening, she took Callie fully into her arms, and kissed her deeply and with bruising force, holding back nothing of what she had been holding back in previous kisses. Pressing her knee firmly between Callie's legs, she brought her hand to one ample breast, expertly finding and flicking the nipple through the supple material of Callie's pink shirt. She was not, however, at all surprised when Callie broke the kiss with a startled gasp.

"Whoa, wait. No, no, don't get me wrong, okay? I don't mean wait wait, just, um, just wait." Callie didn't exactly leap away, but she did move far enough back that Erica lost all contact with her. Erica watched, her hand still at breast level, as Callie's face went through a series of emotions so quickly Erica couldn't place them all. Erica figured this was probably the end of the lesson, and to protect her poor heart, actually began to contemplate departure. But after a huge sigh, Callie finally settled on an expression Erica was immensely relieved to see: Clear, bright obsidian eyes and a fifty-megawatt smile.

And then, to further show she was over the uncertainty that had stopped her at first, Callie shrugged smoothly out of her jacket, pulled the shirt over her head, reached around and unhooked her bra, and stood there, clothing in a pile by her feet, smiling that blinding smile. Stepping forward and taking Erica's still-raised hand, she placed it where it had been, and Erica felt the warm nipple harden immediately beneath her palm. "This okay?"

Erica swallowed against a rising tide of arousal that was threatening to render her unconscious. Moving tightly against Callie, she found voice enough to rasp, "It's. . .exquisite," before their lips met.

Callie led this kiss, and Erica, pressed so fully against Callie's bare chest she could feel her heart beating, was perfectly happy to let her. Kisses were, generally speaking, hardly different between two women as they were between a man and a woman, and Callie was no slouch in this department. But when Callie moved from Erica's lips to her neck, kissing and lightly nipping, occasionally letting the tip of her tongue trace along Erica's collarbone, she did so with such grace that Erica was sure the woman had done it all before, no matter her declarations of fear and discomfort. She sought to voice this just at the moment Callie put her hand between Erica's legs, applying just enough pressure and motion at just the right spot to send Erica's arousal screaming into overdrive.

Coherent thought vanished, as did her knees' ability to support her. She broke the kiss to moan and collapse, but Callie deftly kept her from hitting the floor and didn't release her until Erica gave her the high sign that she could stand on her own. Now Erica had voice enough to ask.

"Where on earth did you pick up that trick?"

Again with a wickedly innocent smile, and clearly expecting Erica to balk, Callie reached toward Erica's crotch, "What? You mean this?"

But Erica outfoxed her by stepping directly into her hand. "Yes." Their lips melted together again, and now that Erica was ready for Callie's intimate massage, she ramped up the action by rotating her hips against Callie's hand until the backs of her thighs were tingling and she could feel that her panties were soaked.

When Callie's lips left hers again for her neck, Erica couldn't stop another moan, almost unable to believe her body was responding so powerfully to just this. But she was a doctor, after all. The biology was not lost on her. She was on hair trigger because she hadn't had sex in a very long while, and here was an eager, half-naked centerfold angel in her arms, and now all she knew was that Callie's hand was not nearly close enough. She wanted Callie to slide her fingers into her wetness, stroke her, skin to skin. Just the thought was making her more wet. Nothing else mattered. "Touch me, Callie, touch me, please, please, make me come, make me come now."

At the outside rim of her awareness, Erica heard Callie calling to her, but was hard pressed to understand her. "Erica, Erica, please. Erica? I want to touch you, I do, but I can't do this standing up and I'm getting kinda cold. Can we go to the bed now? Oh my God, please."

Through all this, Callie's hand never left her, and it was all Erica could do to open her eyes. Struggling up as if from deep water, Erica finally managed to comprehend what Callie was asking. The look on Callie's face was somewhere between desire and desperation and in Callie's current state of undress would have been funny if the poor thing did not also look on the verge of tears. With gargantuan effort, Erica brought herself back to the moment, steadied herself, and felt Callie's hand fall away.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry." Erica took Callie's face in her hands, a gesture she knew the woman was probably already finding familiar. "Let's go, shall we?"

No time was wasted on the removal of clothing. It was simply removed and left to share the floor with the comforter.

As they climbed into bed beside one another, Erica immediately brought one leg over Callie's thigh and lifted herself above the younger woman. She placed her palms to either side of Callie's shoulders and, looking down on her, tried to match the look Callie had given her earlier. Knowing she was failing miserably didn't diminish the way it was making her feel.

"Now," she purred, "where were we?" Very, very slowly, Erica lowered herself to Callie's thigh, at the same time pressing her knee into the juncture between Callie's legs. "Oh my, you're very wet, did you know that?"

Callie was clearly no slouch in this department, either, whether she had slept with a woman before or not. She bent her knee slightly to raise the thigh that Erica straddled, licked her lips, and gave Erica a full frontal look.

Coherent thought again departed, as did her desire to maintain the lead in this effort. Surrendering to the growing sensations, Erica dropped her head, closed her eyes, and began to ride Callie's thigh with increased fervor. It did not take long for sexual momentum to return to its previous height. It felt so good, so very good, and it had been far too long. . . In a haze of arousal that was escalating quickly to finish, she searched and found one uneven comment. "Mmm. . . nice. . .that's. . .so nice."

And Callie, reaching up through a cascade of blonde hair to brush her hand along Erica's cheek, merely whispered, "You look beautiful. Don't stop, please, don't stop."

Erica had no intention of stopping. Ever.

"Can you slide forward and lean closer to me?"

To Erica, with all her senses in hypersensitive mode, Callie's voice sounded like a chocolate bar that had been left out in the summer sun: warm, thick, smooth, and sweet, and Erica could no more refuse her than she could breathe in space. Careful to maintain her intimate contact with Callie's thigh, she moved up and bent her elbows. It became instantly clear what Callie had in mind.

As Callie's overheated hands cupped and fondled her breasts, she inhaled sharply, and inhaled again when Callie's warm mouth closed over one nipple. She continued drawing breath in staccato gasps until her lungs had filled to aching and Callie's ministrations left the little bud tight and throbbing with erection. Exhaling profoundly, Erica opened her legs wider as her need for release began to assert itself in demands for more pressure, more friction.

Callie moved her mouth to the other breast, licking and softly blowing around the pale areola, at the same time pinching the opposite nipple between two fingernails, producing a tiny sensation of pain that went straight to Erica's clit and lit sparks behind her eyelids.

And then, in a fluidly-executed move that even the most hard-core diesel dyke couldn't have mastered in a million tries, Callie stretched a hand straight into Erica's drenched blond curls, whirled one finger delicately around the swollen bundle of nerves that had just received its shock, and rumbled, "Come for me."

The last thought Erica had before her world exploded was one of wonderment at how the tables had neatly turned on her.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours, before Erica could recall speech. Lying on her side right up next to Callie, using her arm as a pillow, she said lightly, "That was great for me, so great it makes me question your lesbian innocence. But it wasn't so hot for you, and I think we really should do something about that, don't you?"

Callie, on her back and staring at the ceiling, was obviously not quite ready for a chat. She mumbled something incomprehensible, a secret little smile on her face. Erica tried again, patting Callie's stomach. "Hey, lover, come back here."

Now Callie blinked and turned her head to Erica. "Huh? Oh. Uh, I'm—I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing of importance. Don't worry about it." Experience gave Erica her next move, and she began to idly run her fingers through Callie's mound of damp, wiry black curls, tugging at tangles, and keeping her eyes on Callie's face, deliberately pretending she was doing nothing but having a conversation. "So," she asked, nonchalantly parting Callie's labia with her pinky, "what were you thinking about?"

Callie's response was instantaneous and had nothing to do with talking. She shifted her hips and cried out, her eyes falling closed, her face contorted in the pleasure/pain look of arousal. Erica dipped her middle finger into an abundance of warm wetness and was gifted with another quiet cry.

"Ah, that's my girl." She added the rest of her fingers, swirling them around the entire area, using her thumb to lightly rub Callie's erect clit, allowing the warm cream to coat her hand. Callie, her hips still in motion, was very wet and swollen and was making breathless little groaning sounds that were driving Erica crazy. "Oh, my, you feel so luscious, so sticky and hot and ready. It's your turn now, love. And I intend to make it last forever."

Erica shifted her position so she could use her other hand to lift Callie's breast, her mouth going right to the pebbled nipple, grasping it in her teeth and delivering a gentle bite before releasing it to kiss along Callie's collarbone.

Callie's vocalizations continued to be sweetly muted, yet magnificently carnal. Resisting the urge to increase her speed in the face of these dulcet sounds, Erica spared one thought of Sloan, about where he had gone after she saw him leave the hospital with Callie. She hoped the poor bastard realized what a lucky man he'd been, because if she had any say in it, he'd never again get to hear this lovely noise. Perhaps she would ask Callie about him later.

Then again, perhaps not.

Erica's attention returned to the woman beside her when Callie's quiet groaning changed into a sort of whimpering growl that seemed to fill the room. Remembering to keep her pace slow and measured, Erica was pleased when she felt Callie growing wetter. Friction had long been reduced to nil; Calllie was so slick, Erica could barely keep her hand in contact. It was time. "All right, honey, here we go."

Slowly, ever-so-slowly, Erica inserted her middle finger and stirred gently. Callie's hips stopped rocking, and the whimpering diminished to barely-audible oh's of pleasure. And then Callie found her voice again, though it was ragged with passion. "Oh—oh—oh Erica ohmygod yes yes. That feels so good. Please don't stop, don't stop."

Erica inserted her index finger, settling it beside the middle one, but this time did not stir. Callie hissed and moaned, her vocalizations returning to the earlier breathless groaning.

Now Erica inserted her third finger, still not moving them. When Callie's hips began to churn again, clearly searching for greater stimulation, Erica began to thrust, at the same time placing the pad of her thumb directly on Callie's slippery clitoris, alternately applying and lifting pressure in rhythm with her pumping fingers.

It didn't take long for Erica to feel the contractions that signaled imminent climax, and when she did, she whispered, "Come for me," and replaced her thumb with her tongue.

As Callie's hips left the mattress, her vocalizations changed again, and this time Erica had no trouble hearing them.

Some moments later, both women were sound asleep, a picture of contentment, with Erica spooned in front of Callie, Callie's arm draped over the smaller woman's midsection.

Somewhere in the ether, Hahn's keys jingled in delight.


In the wild river of your tongue
I travel light years away from everyone
who has lain with me claiming
some corner of my spirit as their own.

And every breath we drew was hallelujah.

The End

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