Author's Note:

Author's Note:

I usually don't write fluff…whenever I look over and proofread fluff pieces that I've written, I want to tear my hair out because it usually never, ever comes out the way I wanted. But….hopefully, this'll do.

This takes place sometime after 'The Becoming' but before 'Losing My Mind'. Again, it's written under the assumption that Hahn's not a lesbian, 'cause that's just the impression I got…

Please, please leave feedback- I need to know if I'm not making an ass out of myself here.

Enjoy! : D

…………………………...

"Absolutely not. I suck at darts," Callie said firmly, crossing her hands over her chest. Erica laughed. "Oh, come on. It's not that hard. I'll show you," she chuckled, taking Callie's arm and leading her over to the dart board. Callie couldn't help but notice the feel of Erica's hand holding her arm, nor could she help feeling that slight pang of disappointment that Erica didn't grab her hand instead. The sound of snapping fingers bought her out of her reverie.

"Huh?"

"Earth to Callie…? You there?" Erica asked with a small smile. Wordlessly the other woman nodded and jerkily knocked back the rest of her shot. Fortunately, Erica chose not to comment, instead picking up the darts and handing one to Callie, flipping it over her fingers with a dexterity that spoke of many a dart game in the past. The brunette laughed at her best friend's obvious cockiness and took the dart. Their fingers grazed and Erica swallowed with a suddenly very dry throat. The words Callie had said right in front of this same exact dartboard came crashing back.

Well, she implied...that-that-that we- that-that I was- that….uhm…you and I might be lesbians.

Callie abruptly turned towards the board and threw her dart. Sadly enough, it didn't even come close to hitting the board, instead sinking into the safety cork around it. They both stared at the dart for a minute. "See? I told you," Callie finally said, sighing and signaling Joe for another shot. Erica gave a small sigh that ultimately ended up in a laugh. "What's so funny, Hahn?" the resident asked, re-crossing her arms in front of her chest. "We got a lot of work ahead of us, Torres," she answered, still wheezing with laughter. She took a sip of her wine and, with a wink at Callie, turned to the board and let two darts fly. One hit the bull's eye in the red, the other in the green. Again, there was silence between the two as they contemplated the shot. Or at least, that's what it seemed like they were doing. Over and over Erica was berating herself for winking at her best friend. That sort of stuff? It just wasn't done, right? Had she winked at her before? Damnation- she couldn't remember. Ever since Callie told her about Addison's suspicions, every move, every action that one did to the other, they questioned. Was it too close? Too…touchy-feely?

Erica thought about the way Callie put her hand on her shoulder after laughing for support to hold herself up. She didn't do it as much anymore, but during work, she did it again. The touch sent tingles careening through Erica's body like silver minnows in a stream, tingles that most certainly did not belong there.

"Whoa," was all Callie finally said. They glanced at each other and shared a laugh, the awkward quiet between them swept away. Joe set Callie's shot in front of her with a warm smile and left to attend to the drunken slurring of Karev for one more beer. Taking another sip of her wine, Erica offered out another dart to Callie.

"Oh no. I'm not making an ass out of myself again," she answered to the unspoken request. Patiently the heart surgeon held the dart out until the other woman sighed and took it. And then, Erica moved without thinking. She aligned herself behind Callie and moved her hand to demonstrate how to the dart would go.

"Keep it smooth, remember," she said. Her voice has gotten a little quiet, but since she was so close to her ear, Callie heard it. Every syllable. Every single, gravelly syllable that had her nerves feeling electrocuted. Her coordination was shot to shit. Thus, her first shot sunk into the safety cork again. Then, Erica did the unthinkable. And if it was unthinkable, you can bet your ass that it was most certainly undoable. She pressed a third dart into Callie's hand and moved her fingers around it to show the best hold. Callie couldn't breathe. It was as if her lungs had gone out to lunch and wouldn't be returning anytime soon. Methodically, Erica took Callie's hand and aimed it at the board. With her other hand, the heart surgeon gently grasped her arm and moved the limb slowly through the motions.

"Like I said before, keep it smooth. You want the launch, then the follow-through all in one movement, okay?"

There was no answer; with the noteable lack of air, there's the lack of speech as well. Callie wordlessly nodded. Again, that thick, ineffably eloquent silence as they stood, Erica's hands still on Callie's arm, their bodies almost touching. Finally Callie pulled it together and breathed out an unsteady sigh.

"Okay, I think I've got it."

But…

Erica didn't move her hands. She did, however, pull her hands off of Callie's skin but kept them less than a centimeter away for guidance. At least, that's what she told herself, anyways. Callie could feel the warmth from Erica's body behind hers and from her hands just hovering over her skin. She tried putting all of that out of her head. True to form, Callie bought her arm back and, as Erica had said, kept it smooth as she threw the dart. It sunk in the bull's eye, shoulder to shoulder with the ones that Erica herself had thrown before. Once more, they stared at the shot, before Erica nodded in satisfaction and tore herself away from Callie. She took a big gulp of wine. The brunette was still standing there, looking at the board, afraid to look away. Because if she did, then her eyes would automatically be drawn to Erica with too many risky emotions in between, and that was not how best friends were. Best friends bitched and complained about relationships. Best friends, as Meredith had so eloquently put it, 'screwed boys like whores on tequila' and then bitched about stuff some more. Best friends most certainly did not have thoughts about how soft the other's skin was, or have other thoughts about smoothing down the soft, downy hairs at the nape of the neck.

They both turned to their drinks, both afraid and unsure to look at the other. Fortunately for them both, they were spared by having to say anything by the arrival of none other than Mark Sloan.

"Jeez Hahn, I wish you'd teach me to play darts like that," he smirked, drawing a wide-eyed look from Callie and a disdainful twist of her lips from Erica.

"Keep dreaming, Pretty Boy," she shot back, airily tossing her head and her hair over one shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Callie switch her doe-eyed look to her and felt an unexpected flutter in the pit of her stomach. Uh oh. That was definitely not something wholesome that was in the unofficial best friends' list dos and don'ts either. Mark, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the two women, asked Callie if she was ready to go. Slowly she nodded, still looking at Erica, who was twirling the stem of the wine glass between her fingers. They both managed a casual wave and then Callie left with Mark. Erica noted her hands were shaking a little. Whoa. What in the name of God was that? Especially the whole dart board, where she was so close that she could smell a faint trace of Callie's perfume? Whoa…again. So, she asked herself again, what was that? An answer came back to her a few moments later as she drained her wine and walked outside into the drizzling weather:

She was teaching Callie how to play darts, that's all- just giving her a lesson on the basics. A small chuckle escaped her.

Well then.

Consider the lesson learned.