DISCLAIMER: Grey's Anatomy and its characters are the property of Shonda Rhimes and ABC. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Special thanks to the amazing Deb for smoothing out the rough edges and to Cabenson for the thumbs up.
SPOILERS: 4.16 Freedom to 5.6 Life During Wartime and a little beyond…
CHALLENGE: Written in response to P&P's 72-hour medical challenge.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
A Fairytale: Rainbow's End
By Ann
Once upon a time, in a land surrounded by beautiful mountains and a clear blue sea, there lived a group of wonderfully talented and highly skilled, although sometimes neurotic, doctors. One in particular, Dr. Callie Torres, found herself in a state of perpetual flux; all due to her inability to understand her deep-seated feelings, that had slowly developed over time, toward her colleague – another doctor – a woman – Dr. Erica Hahn.
This was unchartered territory to the orthopedic specialist and, not only did she not own a boat, she wouldn't have known which end of the paddle to use to navigate through the strong current that threatened to topple her over and cast her into the swirling waters where she feared she'd drown.
And so, she allowed her instincts to take over and guide her down the aesthetically pleasing, but curvy path. In other words, she totally freaked out and turned to something comfortable, something she knew – another doctor – a man – Dr. Mark Sloan.
Sloan had been more than happy to offer his services to act as tour guide for his colleague's little side trip, even going so far as to mention Erica's name during their heated couplings, confusing Callie further when she'd become more aroused than she'd ever been before during their many stolen trysts in the on-call room.
Wanting to be certain of the true reason for the best sex she'd ever had with the man known as McSteamy, Callie increased the number of rendezvous with Sloan, and, factoring in her sudden shyness around Erica and her need to avoid the other woman at all costs, she had her answer. She was, indeed, physically attracted to Hahn, and so she set out to take the bull by its proverbial horns.
Pushed once more by Sloan, she set out determined to hit her target, stumbling through a failed attempt to explain her recent erratic behavior, before pushing back all her fears and silencing Erica with a kiss.
A roar was heard around the world as the two women held onto each other tightly and deepened their kiss. Subtext had become maintext and had offered the hope of a perfect happy ending for our fairtytale. Alas, the sinister writers had something else up their sleeves as they sat perched on their thrones and snickered at the throngs of smiling women in the various lesbian and bi households around the globe.
Yes, they'd already decided to inject Callie with a large dose of 'the freaky' that would become active whenever a smiling and very willing Erica approached. In response, a wide-eyed, blank look would overtake the scaredy-cat Torres every single time Hahn stepped into her space. The overwhelming fear choked her and even had her asking advice from a totally surprised Bailey, who frankly had no idea what the hell to say in reply. That was, until she'd had the unique opportunity to watch Hahn in an unguarded moment.
The brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon stood staring, longingly, across a corridor at the woman she wanted more than life. The moment was pure magic, and Bailey knew, in that instant, that Callie and Hahn were meant to be. So, when she found herself alone with Torres in the scrub room, she pushed herself to her limits to paint the other doctor a vivid picture of what she should do. She proceeded to use poetic analogies well beyond the simple references of northern mountains and south of the border that Callie had used when she'd initially come to Bailey for help with her problem.
No, this time, Bailey made up her own terms, speaking of the va-jay-jay as not only being the undiscovered country but being the motherland. She may have noticed the blank look on Callie's face, but she was on a roll – a nervous, motor-mouth roll. She spoke of shots, syringes, and how to get to the Embassy, and Callie's mind wandered, until… the eating stew off of spongy sour bread and how it wasn't for everyone that froze Callie in place with a 'WTF' look stamped firmly on her face. She never noticed Bailey leave the room, but the diminutive doctor had done her job –once she came out of her trance, Bailey's words trickled into Torres' wandering thoughts and were the key force in giving Callie the courage to meet Erica for dinner.
At last, the perfect moment for this fairytale's end, but . . .
They slept together and opened up a whole new can of worms – at least as far as Callie was concerned. She wasn't able to accompany Erica on the trip south of the border – or rather, she wasn't able to crawl into the driver's seat on the return trip. She needed advice, she needed help, she needed detailed instructions, but instead of researching the web or watching video, she chose to go to the best or who she thought was the best - Sloan. She'd always been a tactile learning, and she paid close attention and learned well.
So well that Erica cried, unnerving Callie, but she held her ground, and tried to stay focused as Erica, in her excitement, shared her glorious revelation – she'd seen leaves. Callie, who hadn't seen any sign of greenery, freaked again and ran back to the hospital in search of - you guessed it – Sloan. She had to know if she'd missed the forest for the trees or if there simply were no leaves in her future.
Her experiment, however, confused her even more. She still liked hetero-sex. She was doomed.
And then, the most unlikely of heroes, once again, played the role of friend and pointed out the true differences between him and Callie. Realizing who she truly wanted, Torres sought Erica out and came clean, explaining everything she'd done, leaving our fairytale in risk of being left open-ended – a most horrific place for a fairytale to end.
Surely, a short venture in what might happen next couldn't hurt . . .
Callie stood in front of Erica's door and knocked solidly without a moment's hesitation. She was determined to keep her doubts away and fight tooth and nail to save their relationship. Standing tall, she awaited her fate.
The door swung open with a loud bang, and Erica silently stared at the other woman.
"May I come in?" asked Callie, her voice much shakier than she'd like it to sound.
"Did you sleep with Sloan again?" Erica purposely injected as much ice into her tone as possible, a trait she was quite adept in.
Cringing slightly, Callie remained firm in her quest. "No."
"Then you can come in."
Turning on her heel, Erica headed for the couch, leaving the door open for her lover to follow. Callie was pleased it hadn't been slammed in her face.
The couple sat on opposite ends of the couch and began their conversation, the first honest conversation they'd had since they'd first slept together. Callie never faltered in her explanation of what she'd done and why she'd done it, and Erica listened quietly, nodding in the appropriate places, until, finally, Callie came to the end of her tale.
Maintaining eye contact with her lover, who never once flinched, Erica smiled and stood, extending her hand in invitation and offering another chance of a happy ending for the pair.
"Let's take this somewhere more comfortable."
A grinning Callie took a firm hold and allowed Erica to take the lead, but only so far; she planned to reciprocate in spades and as often as her stamina would allow.
Much later found Callie breathless, staring up at the ceiling and struggling to stay in this world. She spared a glance down her body, glistening with perspiration, to spy a blonde head nestled comfortably between her legs. Erica chose that very moment to swirl her tongue in her uniquely delicious way, the one that even Sloan couldn't emulate, and the one that promised an orgasm of monumental proportions.
Callie slammed her eyes shut and gripped the sheets tightly in her fists. She searched the darkness for Erica's leaves but was distracted by the multitude of colors that danced behind her eyelids - red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, and even a few colors the eye couldn't normally detect. She hadn't seen leaves – she'd seen the rainbow's end.
Hours later, nestled together, limbs loosely entangled, they slept comfortably in each other's arms.
And so, with Erica clinging tightly to her leaves and Callie to her rainbow, the couple lived happily ever after, until, according to one source . . .
The friggin' homophobic assholes, known in some circles as ABC executives, decided to pull the plug on the storyline, tossing Hahn unceremoniously in a tiny raft. And, cutting the paper thin rope free from the token lesbian pier's slip, they walked away without so much as glancing over their shoulders as the surprised doctor drifted out to sea – alone, forgotten, and not having a single clue why she'd been the one to be ostracized.
Not even the cries and outrages of the many Callica fans could save Hahn from her fate as, yet again, the narrow-mindedness of the powers that be shattered the hopes and dreams of femslash viewers everywhere. The dark side, using their ruthless, underhanded tactics, had won another battle.
The moral of this story, girls and girls, is simple. If you truly want your fairytale to stay its course and weather the tide, you must turn your back on the network that betrayed you and concentrate instead on creating videos and tale after tale of non-canon storylines, featuring the beautiful, strong willed cardiothoracic surgeon and her equally gorgeous lover. It is up to you now to ensure each and every fairytale is colored with miles and miles of rainbow and always ends with your own version of happily ever after.
The End