She was gone. Callie still couldn't believe it.

Last night, she and Addison had gone to Joe's for farewell drinks, but despite her pleading and cajoling, Addison had indeed packed up her car this morning and driven to LA. For good.

Callie was at a loss. First she loses her husband to his best friend, and then she loses her best friend to the sunshine and beaches of LA…and a guy who wasn't really a doctor. It was like being kicked in the stomach over and over and over again. Sighing, she sat down in the lounge at the hospital and wondered when she had lost everyone she cared about.

The door opened, and Callie eyed the door, praying it wasn't George or, God forbid, Izzie. Instead, Mark Sloan swept in and sat in the chair next to Callie, looking equally as bereft.

"You know she's gone, right?" Mark asked her, sipping his coffee.

"Yep."

"Sucks."

"Just a bit, yeah."

Mark sighed. "Aside from Derek, she was really the only friend I had here."

"Aside from my lousy, cheating husband, she was my only friend here."

"We're pathetic."

"Oh, yeah."

"We should fix that."

"What? The pathetic part?"

"The no friends part." He turned to look at her. "Drinks tonight?" When Callie gave him a look, he held up a hand in protest. "Just friends. This is not a date."

Callie thought for a moment…he was right, they were pathetic, and they should change it. And she could be friends with Mark; he may be a manwhore, but he was a funny manwhore. And a pretty decent guy, when she thought about it.

"Okay. I'm off at 7."

"Excellent. I'll see you there."

"Okay."

Mark got up and have her a tentative smile before leaving the lounge.

The bar wasn't too crowded, but Callie and Mark sat in a back booth, each nursing a beer. Callie sighed. "Okay, this is a new level of pathetic right here."

"Hey, this is what bars are for. Sitting and drinking to dull the pain."

"I meant the us not being able to find anything to talk about."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"See? This is the problem. We have nothing to talk about."

"What did you and Addison talk about?"

"Life, love, men, work."

"You can talk to me about any of those."

Callie choked on her beer. "Right, 'cause I'm going to talk to you about my failed marriage."

"Your marriage did not fail, Callie. Your husband failed. Big difference."

Callie was taken aback by the insight Mark had just provided. "Wow, Mark. That was almost…deep."

"Just because everyone says I'm shallow doesn't mean it's true," he replied, looking slightly hurt.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

She sighed. "Do you ever wish that life had turned out differently?"

"Every day," he said with a sad laugh. "Every day."

"I sit here and wonder how I can fix that? You know? Make lemonade out of lemons. But some days, I just want to give up, run away like Addison did. Start over."

"I did that, and we all see how well that worked."

"Oh, come on. You didn't come here for just Addison. I've seen you with Derek. You two have a bromance."

This time, it was almost Mark who choked. "A what?"

"Bromance. You know, two men who are really tight. Like a romance between two men."

"Are you implying that I play for the other team, Dr. Torres? Because you know firsthand that it's not true."

"Not like that. But you're friends. You came here to get him back, too. And you did. So your mission was not in vain."

"True. But he's all wrapped up in Meredith Grey. He's not much fun, truth be told."

"That I can't help you with."

Mark drained his beer. "Okay, this is getting maudlin. Wanna see a movie? My treat."

"You buying the popcorn?"

"Yeah."

"Deal." Callie drained her beer and stood up, grabbing her purse.

The next morning, Cristina sidled up to Callie at the OR board. "I heard you had a date with McSteamy last night."

"It wasn't a date, Yang."

"Oh, really?" You got home awfully late."

"We saw a 9:30 movie."

"What did you see?"

"Spider Man. And why are you so curious?"

"Derek told Meredith that you and Mark had gone out. She insisted it was a date. I told her I didn't think so."

"How much money did you win?"

"Twenty bucks."

"I get half."

"I know. So what do you all do?"

Callie had to laugh. "We talk."

"Are you two all mopey about Satan heading to LA?"

"She's not so bad, Yang."

"I know. Personally, I kind of like her. But you know, since Meredith doesn't like her…you know, kind of why I don't like George and Izzie although to be fair, I didn't like them to begin with."

"So it's really not even close to being the same thing?"

"Pretty much. But I hate them more out of solidarity."

"Gee, thanks."

"Can I scrub in on the triple bypass that's scheduled?"

"Is that why you're sucking up to me?"

"I'm not sucking up. If I were, I'd have brought you coffee."

"Ask Grey if she'll switch with you, I had you on the valve replacement."

"Ooh! That sounds better. Never mind." Cristina spotted Mark coming towards them with two cups of coffee. "Speaking of the devil…" Callie shot her a dirty look. "So, I'm gonna go now."

Mark approached Callie with a smile. "Coffee?"

"Thanks." Callie took the cup gratefully. "What's up?"

"I'm craving Greek food."

"Mmmm, spanikopita. I'm in."

"Great. After work tonight?"

"Deal."

Mark walked away, and Callie saw Cristina out of the corner of her eye, watching. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You wanna stay on your valve replacement?"

"I didn't say a word."

Callie leaned back in her chair, looking at the letters in front of her. "Did I mention I hate this game?"

Mark grinned across the conference table at her. "Maybe once or twice."

She shot him a nasty look. "Next time, I choose the game."

Derek walked past the conference room and noticed them sitting, playing Scrabble. Grinning, he walked into the room and peered over Callie's shoulder at her letters. "You know he's going to kick your ass at this."

"Yeah, it's become abundantly clear," Callie grumbled as she set some letters down on the board.

Mark grinned and set his own tiles down. "With a triple word score…"

"That's not even a word!" Callie said. "You made that up."

"It is so a word."

"There isn't even a vowel in that word."

"A-E-I-O-U and sometimes Y."

"You are full of shit, Mark."

"Check the dictionary."

Callie grabbed the paperback dictionary that was lying next to her and searched through it. "What the…fuck." She shot him a dirty look. "Asshole."

Derek laughed. "You're just now figuring that out, Dr. Torres?"

"I told you. Syzygy is a legitimate word. I may cheat at many, many things, but Scrabble is not one of them."

"Can I ask why you two are sitting here at…7:30 on a Saturday morning, playing Scrabble?" Derek asked.

"Slow night," Mark replied. "And the on-call rooms are full."

"And I'm not about to go sleep in the clinic," Callie added.

"You could go home? It's quitting time for you two."

Mark looked up at Callie. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah. I'm over this game anyway."

"You're just bitter because you lost."

"Pig." She winged the dictionary at him. "Ten minutes in the lobby."

Derek watched Callie walk towards the locker room, and turned to look at Mark. "Interesting."

"What is?"

"You and Dr. Torres. Is this a…thing?"

"We're friends."

"You don't know how to be friends with a woman, Mark."

"I'm learning."

"She won't let you in her pants, will she?" Derek asked, grinning.

"I haven't asked…well, not recently."

"Are you not interested?"

The look Mark gave Derek could have stopped a clock. "Yeah, I'm interested. She's…hot. Dirty hot. She can do things with-" Mark cut himself off before he revealed too much. "But we're friends now."

"So you're not trying to sleep with her?"

"No, not trying. Not to say that if it happened I'd be upset, but it's not my goal. This is not the means to an end. I enjoy her company-in and out of the bedroom." He shoved the Scrabble box at Derek. "If you'll excuse me, my friend Callie and I are meeting for breakfast."

When Mark arrived in the lobby, Callie was waiting for him. "I want pancakes," she said, linking her arm with his as they walked out into the morning. "And bacon."

"I think we can do that. I'll drive."

Callie got into the passenger seat of Mark's car and set her purse on the floor. "God, you need to clean this thing."

"You're the one who spilled Coke on the floor, not me."

"It was an accident! And if you hadn't been so busy ogling some woman in a short skirt, you would have seen the red light!"

"Whatever, Butterfingers." He grinned at her as he shifted the car into gear and headed for downtown.

"Manwhore."

"At least I admit it."

The diner was crowded, and Callie and Mark found themselves squeezed into a booth in the back. Service was quick, and soon Callie found herself immersed in the pancakes she'd been craving.

Mark watched as Callie dug into her breakfast with gusto. "It's nice to see a woman who eats."

"If you'd stop dating skinny bimbos and started dating a real woman, you wouldn't have that problem." She snagged some hash browns off his plate.

"Maybe real women won't date me," he replied.

"That's because you don't really date, Mark. You fuck 'em and chuck 'em."

"Not always."

"Most of the time." A hurt look crossed his face, and she sighed. "Look. You're a good guy. A great guy, actually. But it's like…you're afraid of a relationship that could be successful."

"How?"

"Look at Addison. She was married, so you knew that wasn't going to work. You followed her here, and now? She's gone and you're back to fucking women you pick up in bars or nurses you pick up at the hospital."

He laughed. "You make it sound so sleazy. Let's not forget that I picked you up in a bar."

"I picked you up. Get your story straight." She chewed thoughtfully. "I think you want a relationship. You want the whole lazy Sunday mornings and sex on the kitchen floor thing. But I also think that your fear of getting close to people is what prevents you from having that. So, you either chase the unavailable-Addison-or you only choose women who you know you only want temporarily for sex."

"That's a very astute assessment, Dr. Torres."

"I have three brothers. You learn things." She leaned back in the booth. "The pancakes win. I'm stuffed."

The bill came, and Mark insisted on paying. "It's the least I can do after your thoughtful psychoanalysis."

Back in the car, Callie sighed. "That was so good. Thank you."

"I do believe this is the first time I've had breakfast with a woman without having had sex with her."

"You're growing, Mark."

"I am, aren't I?"

"Like a fungus." She burst out laughing as he scowled at her.

Mark pulled into the hospital parking lot. "Thanks for the company."

"Thanks for the breakfast." She reached over and tousled his hair affectionately. "You're not so bad, Sloan. Call me later."

"Will do, Torres."

"How was breakfast with your friend Dr. Torres?" Derek asked a couple of days later at lunch.

"What does that mean?" Mark replied, picking the tomatoes off of his salad.

"It means did you have a nice time?"

"Yeah. It's always a good time with Callie."

"I heard my name," she said, sliding into the seat next to Mark. "Talking about me again?"

"As always."

Callie began picking the cantaloupe out of her fruit salad and put them on Mark's tray. "All good, I hope."

"I was asking Mark how breakfast the other morning was." Derek watched as Mark ate Callie's cantaloupe, and she took the tomatoes from his salad.

"Good."

"Why do you even get the fruit salad?" Mark asked her, spearing another piece of melon. "You pick out all the melon. You might as well not even buy it."

"I buy it because I like the grapes and the watermelon and the cherries and the peaches, but you like the cantaloupe and you need to eat more fruit."

"I eat fruit."

"A banana split does not count as fruit."

"Yes it does."

"And pineapple on your pizza also does not count."

"Party pooper."

Callie laughed and took a bite of her sandwich. "You like it."

"You keep telling yourself that."

Derek watched them banter back and forth with amusement. "So, you two a…thing?"

Callie gave Derek a look. "A thing? If by 'thing' you mean friends." Derek chuckled, and Callie rolled her eyes. "Ugh, not you too. Why is it impossible for anyone to believe that Mark and I can be friends?"

"Because Mark doesn't have friends," Derek replied. "Or, no woman friends."

"Well, he does now. Which, correct me if I'm wrong, is one more female friend than you have."

Derek looked affronted. "I have female friends."

"Name one." Callie speared a tomato with her fork. "And Meredith doesn't count."

"Nancy. Kathleen."

"No way," Mark said. "Family doesn't count either."

"You shut up." Derek thought for a moment. "Yang."

Callie rolled her eyes. "Please. Yang? Not your friend. She's your girlfriend's friend, she only talks to you because she has to."

"Addison."

Mark choked on a piece of melon. "Addison is not your friend."

"Yes she is!"

Callie shook her head. "No….no she isn't."

Derek's pager went off. "Saved by the bell. Catch you later."

"The more time I spend with him, the less I actually like him," Callie said to Mark as they watched Derek leave the cafeteria.

"Ah, he's okay, once you get to know him."

"Kinda like you?" she asked, stealing a cucumber off of his salad.

"I guess you could say that."

"Well, I've already got one 'McDoctor' friend, and he's more than enough." She stood up. "See you tonight."

"Holy crap, I suck at this," Callie said, watching as her pink bowling ball headed straight for the gutter for the tenth time in a row.

"We can go do something else if you want," Mark said, looking apologetic.

For six weeks, they'd been almost inseparable. They'd go out for drinks, to the movies, they even ate lunch together.

"So it's like dating without the sex," Cristina had said that morning at breakfast. "That's a shame. I hear he's good at the sex…well, you'd know that. Do you want to have sex with him?"

Callie had denied it vehemently that morning, but as she watched Mark bowl-noticing his strong arms, his large hands, and his fine ass-she wondered if maybe, somewhere deep in her subconscious, she did want to have sex with him.

"You're up."

"I don't know why I bother," she replied with a sigh. "I clearly suck at this."

"Here," Mark replied, handing her the pink ball. "I'll help you out with this one, and you do the next one yourself."

Reluctantly, Callie let herself be led to the lane. She could feel Mark's breath on her ear as he stood close to her, and she shivered involuntarily.

"The problem is, you're letting go of the ball too early," he said. "You have no follow-through. Bring your arm back like this," his hand was covering hers on the ball. "Now, back…and let go!"

Callie watched as the ball sailed down the lane and hit every pin. "Holy shit!"

"See?" Mark's hand was gone, and she missed it's warmth.

"Wow…thanks." Suddenly, she felt awkward.

"No problem. I'm gonna get a beer. Want one?"

"Sure."

She watched as he walked to the bar and ordered two beers. When a blonde woman approached him and began to flirt with him, Callie found herself becoming irritated. He wasn't supposed to use that smile on other women-that was her smile. The one he used whenever he was turning on the charm to get her to do something for him; like today, when he'd smiled at her during lunch and asked if she was going to eat her cookie. He didn't smile at other women that way, not even the nurses he wanted to bag. She didn't know who she was more pissed at-the blonde for even approaching Mark, or Mark himself, for using her smile on a woman who clearly had more plastic in her than a Chinese toy factory.

When Mark headed back to their lane, Callie was in a snit. She picked up the ball and hurled it down the lane, sending pins flying.

"Whoa! Watch that arm there, Cal. You're gonna hurt someone." He handed her a beer. "All they had was Bud. Sorry."

"Yeah, me too." She forced herself to smile.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, looking concerned. "You look flushed."

"I'm…I'm fine."

He placed his hand on her forehead, then on the back of her neck. The touch sent tingles down her spine. "You're not feverish. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just…tired. I think I'd like to call it a night."

She hoped she wasn't imagining the look of disappointment on his face. "You sure? I can't even get you dinner?"

"Yeah. I just need some rest."

"Okay."

They packed up their stuff and headed for their cars. Mark threw his stuff in his trunk and turned to her. "If you're feeling up for it tomorrow, the old theater downtown is having a Hitchcock marathon. I'm going with Derek, but I told him I was going to invite you."

Callie snickered. "No, that's okay, I wouldn't want to interrupt your bromance with Derek."

Mark chuckled. "Well, I'll call you tomorrow. Get some rest." He leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Night."

Callie stood there, motionless, as Mark drove off into the rainy Seattle night. She could still feel his lips on her forehead.

As though in a daze, she slipped into the driver's seat and shut the door. It was only when she saw the blonde woman from the bar walk out that she snapped out of her reverie.

"Fuck."

"How was bowling with McSteamy?" Cristina asked from the living room floor. She and Meredith were sprawled on the carpet, a bottle of tequila between them, Pulp Fiction blaring from the TV.

"Must not have been that McSteamy if she's home at 9:20," Meredith replied.

Callie glared at them as she took the tequila from Meredith and took a long swig.

"Something happened!" Cristina sat up, suddenly alert. "Did he try something? Do I have to remove his testicles with a ten-blade?"

"Okay, you? Look way too excited at the prospect of that," Callie replied. "And no, nothing happened."

"So that's the problem," Meredith said.

"There's no problem here," Callie said. "No problems. I'm fine."

"Then why did you drink half of our tequila in one swallow?" Meredith asked.

"Fuck!" Callie shouted. "This is not happening!"

Cristina looked at Meredith, alarmed. "Is this a girl thing? Because if it is, I'm going to go and get more booze."

"There is no amount of tequila that is going to make this better," Callie replied. "This is something tequila cannot fix."

"Scotch? Vodka? Rubbing alcohol?" Cristina asked, rummaging through the liquor cabinet. "I have some…holy shit, how did I get a pansy-ass liquor like amaretto in here?"

"Do you like Mark?" Meredith asked Callie with a smile.

"I don't know." Callie sighed. "I just got out of a really horrible marriage, and my best friend moved away, and I am all alone-"

"Okay, what are we? Chopped liver?" Cristina asked.

"It's not like we spend a lot of time together."

"Because you're always with McSteamy!"

"Can we focus!" Meredith interrupted. "Okay, bad marriage, no Addison…and?"

"And so Mark and I decided we'd become friends, you know? Because we didn't really have anyone else. And now…I think it's going to get tricky."

"Why?" Meredith asked.

"Because…some woman hit on him tonight, and I felt…angry. Just really irritated. Pissed off. He was smiling at her, and it pissed me off."

"Okay, now I definitely need more booze." Cristina stood up and walked to the kitchen. "This morning you told me you weren't interested in him that way."

"I wasn't. Maybe I was. I don't know."

Meredith set her glass down and looked at Callie very seriously. "So you like him, but you don't want to because he's your friend and you don't want to lose another friend."

"Exactly."

"Have you tried…telling him that?"

Callie laughed. "He doesn't see me like that. I'm so…not his type."

"You have a vagina," Cristina called. "You're his type."

Callie shot Cristina a dirty look. "Anyway, it doesn't matter because he doesn't think of me like that. So, I'll just sit here and drink and hope that I wake up in the morning and this whole wanting Mark thing will have gone away."

"Good luck with that," Meredith said. "If you find the secret to that, please let me know."

Mark and Derek sat in the back of the crowded theater, waiting for the first movie to start. "Where's Dr. Torres?" Derek asked.

"Callie's not feeling well," Mark replied. "Apparently she got home last night and Meredith and Cristina were boozing it up."

"Ah. So are you and Dr. Torres…an item?"

"Didn't we have this conversation already?"

"I'm still waiting for you to admit you're dating her."

"We're not dating, Derek. We're friends."

"Friends do not spend every evening together."

"Why shouldn't we? We enjoy each other's company."

"That's called dating, Mark."

"We are not dating."

"Do you pay?"

"Sometimes."

"You're dating."

"And how would you know we're dating?"

"Several reasons: one, you're always together at the hospital if you're not in surgery. Two, you've seen her every night for, what, six weeks? Three, her ringtone on your cell phone is 'Brown-Eyed Girl.' Four-and I think this is clearly the most damning evidence-you have not hit on one nurse since you've started hanging out with her."

"Maybe I don't need sex now that I have a fulfilling personal relationship with a woman."

Derek laughed so hard he choked on a piece of popcorn. "Oh, right. Like I'm supposed to believe that."

"Well, it's true."

"Oh my God." Derek's jaw went slack. "You…you like her!"

"So what if I do?" Mark was trying to be nonchalant.

"Have you stopped hitting on other women?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But not because of Callie."

"Then why? Enlighten me."

"They're…eh. Pretty, sexy, good in bed, but not exactly long-term material."

"Long-term? Did Mark Sloan just mention the 'long-term' with women?"

"Hey! I'm growing. I'm becoming a better person."

"Oh my God. Am I on Candid Camera?"

"That show isn't even on anymore, jackass."

"Don't get all pissy with me, Mark. I'm just…speechless."

"You know, you could try and be supportive here."

"Does she know?"

"Who, Callie? Nah. Divorce and all…she's not thinking about it."

"So what are you going to do? Wait?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Just…just to make sure I have everything straight: you, Mark Sloan, notorious womanizer and what my sister Nancy referred to as 'sex on a stick,' is going to wait for a woman to be ready for a long-term relationship?"

"Yep."

Derek took a piece of paper out of his pocket and began to write on it.

"What are you doing?"

"Writing this down."

"Why?"

"Because I'll need it for either my best man speech…or to endlessly mock you."

Since their night of bowling, Callie had been avoiding Mark. She had managed to dodge all of his phone calls, and avoided seeing him at lunch by eating in an on-call room. But she knew that after four days, her luck was about to run out.

"Callie!"

Callie mentally cursed as she plastered a smile on her face. "Hey."

"I get the distinct impression that you're avoiding me."

"No, I'm just…busy. Swamped, really."

"You're a bad liar, Cal. Have dinner with me tonight."

"I can't, Cristina and I are-"

"She's working tonight."

"Meredith was-"

"She's going out with Derek."

"Oh."

"So tell me again you're not avoiding me."

"I'm not."

"Then have dinner with me."

"Fine."

"I will pick you up at 8."

"Pick me up? Why don't I meet you there?" It was going to be hard enough to have to have dinner with him, being stuck in a car with him would be exquisite agony.

"No. I'll come get you."

"Sure, okay."

Mark walked away, and Cristina and Meredith walked up behind Callie and each grabbed an arm.

"Okay that? Was him making a date." Meredith said, as she and Cristina propelled Callie to an on-call room.

"And you need to get your shit together," Cristina said.

"What?" Callie looked confused as Meredith and Cristina pushed her into the on-call room and onto a bed.

"Did you not see the way he looked at you?" Meredith said. "It would have melted an ice sculpture. He is into you, Callie. Way into you."

"What?"

"Look, you like him. He obviously likes you." Cristina sighed. "This is so fucking high school. Look, Callie…just jump his bones already! Shit! He's hot! He's McSteamy! And he wants you."

"I can't."

"You can," Meredith replied. "Just because George was a complete and total ass to you does not mean that every guy will do the same."

"When did you two become Mark's cheerleaders?" Callie asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Since you started hanging out with him and became more fun," Cristina retorted.

"I was fun before!"

"Who spent two weeks moping on my couch? That was not fun."

"Excuse me for having a cheating husband and feeling bad about it!"

"Hey," Cristina said, holding her hands up. "I get it. Trust me, I get it. But since McSteamy came along, you've been…like the old Callie. The pre-George Callie. The kick ass and take names Callie. The Callie who eats trolls like George for breakfast."

Callie sighed. "If I say it's a date, will you two leave me the hell alone?"

"No."

"Then what do you want?!"

"We," Meredith said, "want you to admit that you like Mark too, and we want you to date him."

"Date the manwhore?"

"Manwhore? Not so whorish anymore." Cristina said. "The buzz is that he hasn't had sex-no, hasn't even hit on a nurse, since before Addison left."

"And," Meredith chimed in, "I have it on good authority that he plans on keeping it that way."

"Whatever. Look, I have patients to attend to." She pushed past them and practically ran out of the on-call room.

"I'll change the sheets on my bed!" Cristina called after her. Without looking back, Callie shot her the finger.

"That's like the eighth outfit you've tried on tonight," Cristina said, lounging on the couch.

"Shut up."

"What? I'm just saying."

Meredith appeared in the living room with a glass of wine for Callie. "You? Need a drink."

"A drink is the last thing I need."

"I liked the red shirt better," Cristina said. "It was low-cut, but not slutty."

"Definitely."

Callie went to the bathroom to change, and there was a knock on the door.

"You're date is here!" Cristina called, getting up off of the couch to open the door. "McSteamy."

"McBitchy, McDrunky," Mark replied, leaning against the doorframe.

"You don't get to do that," Meredith replied. "That's my thing."

"Our thing," Cristina shot back.

"Whatever."

Mark chuckled. "Where's Callie?"

"Right here," she said, sweeping in and grabbing her purse, trying to get as far away from Meredith and Cristina as quickly as possible. "Let's go."

She brushed past Mark, who followed her.

"You kids have fun!" Meredith shouted down the hall after them.

"Have her home early, she has to work tomorrow!" Cristina chimed in.

Callie shot them a look over her shoulder, and the two laughed and went back into the apartment.

"You look nice," Mark said to her.

"Thanks."

The elevator ride was silent. When they got to his car, Mark opened the door for her, and waited until she was buckled in before shutting the door and sliding into the driver's seat.

"Where are we going?" Callie asked, trying to keep her voice light.

"You like Italian?"

"Yeah, Italian is good."

"Good." He reached over and put his hand on her knee, and she jumped. Mark laughed. "Are you nervous?"

"A little, yeah," she admitted.

"Why? Cal, it's just me. We've gone out lots of times."

"But never like this."

"Like what? A date?"

"Is this a date?"

"Do you want it to be?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

Mark pulled up to a red light and turned to her. "Let's just get this over with right now so we can enjoy tonight."

"Get what over-" She was cut off by his mouth on hers, his hands gently caressing her face. He kissed her deeply, sensually, and for so long that the car behind them beeped with impatience when the light turned green.

"Wow."

"Feel better now?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. Despite herself, Callie smiled.

When they reached the restaurant, Mark opened the car door for her and offered her a hand. He pushed her up against the car and kissed her again, his hand tangling in her hair as his body pressed up against hers. Callie felt a tingling in the pit of her stomach that ran down her legs and made her giddy. She kissed him back, loving the way his thumb caressed her cheek, the feel of his body against her.

When they broke apart, both were breathing heavily. "Okay, we can't keep doing this or we won't make it through dinner," Callie said.

"You're right." He stood up straight and fixed the collar of her jacket. "Let's eat."

The ride back to Cristina's was awkward. They'd bantered at dinner like usual, but being in a confined space together was almost too much for Callie. She fidgeted nervously in the passenger seat.

"You're nervous again."

"Okay, I'm just going to come out and ask…what do you want?"

"What do you mean, what do I want? Out of life? For dinner tomorrow? Can you be a little more specific?"

She had to laugh. "From me, jackass."

"From you?" He thought for a moment. "Companionship. Laughter. Someone to listen."

"And that's all."

He turned to look at her. "No. But I think that's all you're willing to give me."

"Mark." She sighed. "Look, it's not that I don't want that, too. I do. But I just found Mark my friend, and I don't think I can lose him."

"You won't."

"It's easy to say that now, when we've had a couple of drinks and some really good kisses…but what happens if we do try to do this, and it fails? I'll have lost a really good friend, and I don't know if I can handle that."

It was Mark's turn to sigh. "I've never been good at…dating. But apparently that's what we've been doing."

"So I hear."

"So how about this…we keep doing what we've been doing-dinner, movies, hanging out. But with some...benefits. You tell me where the line is, and I won't cross it until you say so. Deal?"

"Deal."

Mark pulled up at Cristina's building and turned the car off. He got out and opened Callie's door for her, helping her out of the car. Tentatively, he leaned in and placed a soft, gentle kiss on her mouth. "I had a very nice time with you tonight."

"Same."

"The kissing is okay?" Mark raised an eyebrow.

"The kissing is okay," Callie laughed.

"Good. Because I intend to do a lot of it with you in the near future." He kissed her again, long and slow, and when Callie broke the kiss her legs were shaking.

"The kissing? So much better than okay," she said. "Way, way better. I forgot how good a kisser you are."

He laughed. "I haven't forgotten anything about you."

Callie blushed. "I…I should go before we get into trouble."

"Yeah." He kissed her forehead. "See you in the morning."

Mark glanced at his watch as he headed for the locker room. His surgery was scheduled for 9am, barring a huge trauma that needed his attention. As he passed the conference room, he saw Callie and George sitting at the table, two men in suits with them. Callie's face was expressionless, but her eyes told the story. Cooling his heels, he loitered by the door, pretending to look at the charts for the patients that had come in overnight.

When the door opened, Mark grabbed Callie's arm and pulled her into a stairway. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're a bad liar, Cal."

"That…we signed the papers." She turned her head so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes, but he was too quick for her. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight, and she closed her eyes. He smelled like Armani and leather, familiar and comforting. Callie felt the tears slide down her face. "This is so stupid."

"It's not stupid. It's hard. And it's natural for you to be upset."

She sniffled. "I feel like a fool."

"You aren't. Trust me, if you were, I would tell you."

Despite herself, Callie laughed. "Gee, thanks."

"Drinks tonight, on me." She went to refuse, but he stopped her. "You need a friend, Callie. And I happen to be your friend. Let me do my job."

She nodded. "Okay."

"If you need anything today, find me. Okay? Page me."

"Yeah."

Mark gently wiped a tear from her face. "You'll be okay." He turned and walked out, and Callie sighed, sitting down at the top of the stairs.

The door opened, and Callie turned to find Cristina standing there. "So, uh…how'd it go?"

"It went."

"Yeah." She sat down next to Callie and held out a Snickers bar. "No liquor stores open this early."

Laughing, Callie took the candy bar. "We should fix that."

"I know. We'd make a mint."

Callie unwrapped the candy bar and took a bite. "Thanks."

"Welcome."

The door opened again, and Callie sighed. "Mark, I'm fine-oh."

George stood there, looking uncertain. "Can I talk to you?"

Cristina gave Callie a look and left.

"Talk."

George sighed. "I'm sorry, Callie. I never meant to hurt you."

"Yeah, well."

"This...this isn't what I intended. When I married you, I meant it."

"Did you mean it as you were fucking Izzie Stevens?"

"I deserved that."

"You deserve a lot more than that."

Callie saw Mark peering through the window. Cristina must have gone to get him. She nodded to let him know she was okay, and she heard a soft thud as he leaned against the door, ready to help if she needed him.

George noticed Mark, and turned to Callie. "So…you and Sloan."

"What about Mark and I?"

"He's…not for you."

"How the hell would you know, George."

"He's…Sloan."

"Manwhore? Homewrecker?" she spat at him. "Let me guess, you don't think of Izzie in that way, but that's what she is. So if you get to call Mark a whore and a homewrecker, then I get to say that about your precious Izzie."

"I don't want to see you get hurt!"

"Too fucking late, George."

The door opened, and Mark came in. "Cal? You okay?"

"Fine. George was just leaving."

George glared at Mark, and in the blink of an eye, Mark had George up against a wall. "If you so much as even look at her again, O'Malley, I will rearrange your face. You'll be blinking your lips and pissing through a catheter. Am I clear?"

Mark let go, and George scurried away. He turned to Callie. "I'm doing a complete facial reconstruction in OR 3. I could use your help."

"Yeah."

He took her candy bar from her and took a bite. "Good."

He turned to leave, and Callie stopped him. "Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Anything for you, Cal."

"Can I have my candy bar back?"

He grinned. "Anything but that."

Callie was well into a bottle of Jack Daniels when Mark cut her off. "Okay, Holly Golightly, time to get you home." He helped her on with her jacket, and she slid off the barstool.

"No, not to Cristina's."

"Why not?"

"Because Cristina will be there, and she makes me think of George." She looked at him with sad brown eyes. "I don't want to think about him anymore."

"Fine. You can crash with me."

Sliding an arm around her waist, he guided her outside into the cool, wet evening. "I'm so sick of thinking about George," she said, leaning against Mark. "Soooooo sick of George. I want to think about something else."

"So think about something else."

"Like what?"

"How about the impact of the intervention of the World Bank/IMF in third world countries on the global economy?"

She laughed. "Wow. Yeah, I can't even figure out what that sentence means."

"Okay then, how about whether or not you believe Supreme Court justices should be constructionists or textualists?" He opened the door to the Archfield and they headed for the elevators.

"I have a better idea," she said.

"What's that?"

Callie looked at him, a sultry smile on her lips. "I think about you. Naked. On top of me."

Mark laughed. "If that's what you want to think about, go ahead." He led her into the elevator and pressed the button.

Callie leaned against him. "Maybe I don't want to think about it. Maybe I want to do it." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, and he could taste the liquor on her tongue. Stumbling, they got out of the elevator and Mark opened his hotel room door.

Callie walked in, tossing her coat on the floor and reaching for the hem of her shirt. She threw that on the floor with her coat, and walked over to Mark, pressing him against the door and kissing him again, putting his hands on her breasts.

It took all of Mark's conviction to push her off of him. "No."

Callie laughed and began to untuck his shirt. "Funny."

"I'm not kidding."

Her hands were making quick work of his shirt, and it made it hard for him to think straight. He watched as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders.

"No. Callie."

"You said," she replied, working on his belt, "that when I was ready to cross the line, you would." She unbuttoned his jeans. "I'm telling you that I'm ready."

"Callie, stop." He grabbed her hands. "No. Not like this."

"Like what? Drunk, depressed, and horny? Since when did you give a shit if a woman was drunk?"

"Since now."

She pulled her hands away. "You don't want me."

"That is not it, and you know it." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't want you to wake up in the morning and regret doing this. I wouldn't be a very good friend if I…did what you wanted."

Callie's face crumbled, and she began to cry. "I know, Mark. I know. I just…I wanted to feel wanted. Even if was only for tonight."

He pulled her into a hug. "You're going to be okay, Cal."

"It doesn't feel like it."

"I know." He let go of her and got out a t-shirt and a pair of boxers for her. "You need sleep. Things will look different in the morning."

She changed, and when she emerged from the bathroom, Mark was on the couch. "I'll take the couch," she said.

"What kind of friend would I be if I let you sleep on the sofa?"

She looked at him, biting her bottom lip. "Can you just…hold me for a bit? Until this horrible feeling of despair passes?"

"Yeah." He got up and crossed to the bed, wrapping his arm around her.

She sniffled and settled into his arms. "Thank you."

When she awoke the next morning, she sat up and looked around. Mark's scent lingered on the linens, and she looked down to find herself wearing his clothes. She heard the shower start, and reached for her cell.

"Hey woman!" Addison's voice was cheerful. "I was wondering when you'd call."

"Addie, I have a problem."

"What's up?"

"It's Mark."

On the other end, Addison sighed heavily. "Did you sleep with him?"

"No…he wouldn't."

"What?"

"Yeah, we went out for drinks last night, and I hit on him…and he said no."

"Wait…why are you going out for drinks with Mark Sloan?"

"We hang out a lot."

"What do you mean, you hang out a lot?"

"Friends, Addison! We're friends. We hang out and go for drinks and see movies and play Scrabble. And sometimes we kiss, but we don't have sex."

"With Mark?"

"Yes!"

"Mark Sloan?"

Callie sighed. "If you're just gonna pick on me, forget it."

"I'm kidding," Addison replied. "Okay, so you're friends. And last night you hit on him and he said no."

"Yeah."

"And this is a problem?"

"Yes, but no."

"Okay, now I'm really lost."

"I told him a couple of weeks ago that I was afraid that I'd lose him as a friend if we…got physical. So we agreed to date. And yesterday my divorce was finalized, and he took me for drinks."

Addison sighed. "And he behaved like a perfect gentleman and turned you down for sex, and now you're mad because he did exactly what you would have wanted him to do had you been sober."

"Yeah."

"You can't have it both ways, you know. You can't compartmentalize your feelings for Mark into 'okay, tonight he's my friend' and 'okay, tonight he's a fuck buddy.' It doesn't work that way."

"I know."

"What do you want? Deep down, what is your heart telling you to do?"

Callie bit her lip. "I don't know. It's like I can't even hear it because of all the other noise inside my head."

"Come visit."

"What?"

"You heard me. Come visit. Leave today, you can go back Sunday night."

"Addie, I can't."

"I'll call Richard. He'll give you the time off. You need to be away from Mark and George and everyone in Seattle so that you have time to sort out what you want."

Callie sighed.

"Look, I'll call you back after I talk to Richard. Your ticket will be waiting at the airport."

"Fine."

Callie clicked off with Addison, and began to gather her things up. When the bathroom door opened, Mark smiled at her. "Morning, sunshine."

"Hey."

He leaned against the doorframe. "What's the matter?"

She sighed. "I'm…so sorry about last night, Mark. That wasn't fair to you. I made an ass of myself, and I am so embarrassed."

"No need to be embarrassed, Cal."

"I'm…just gonna go."

"Stop." He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "What happened last night doesn't change how I feel about you, or what I want from you. It doesn't change anything about us unless you let it. You said you didn't want to lose me as a friend, and I feel the same way about you."

"I know."

"I won't lie, Callie…I want more. I want lazy Sunday mornings and sex on the kitchen floor, and I want it with you. I want us to go out for breakfast on a Saturday morning and have it be just like always, except that instead of taking you to Yang's place, we go back home and stay in bed all day." He gently caressed her face. "But if that's not what you want, I can live with it as long as you're still my friend."

"I…I don't know what I want, Mark. I need time."

"I know."

"I'm going to see Addison," she said. "I talked to her while you were in the shower. She's sending me a ticket."

"How long?"

"Just the weekend."

He nodded. "That sounds good. You'll be able to clear your head."

"So, I uh, need to go and pack."

"I'll take you to the airport."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

Mark left her to get dressed alone, and Callie put Mark's shirt and shorts in her bag. He dropped her at her car, saying, "Call me when you have flight info, okay?"

"Okay."

She slid into her car and headed for the apartment, arriving safely but not knowing how.

Mark parked the car in the hourly lot and walked Callie into the airport.

"You don't have to do this," she said, taking her bag out of the trunk.

"I know." Mark hoisted her bag over his shoulder and took her hand. Entwining his fingers with hers, they walked towards the airport.

Callie checked in, and came back with her ticket and boarding pass. "Addison paid for business class."

"She always does."

"For a three hour flight?"

"She has more money than common sense."

Callie laughed. "That was mean."

"Am I wrong?"

"Not really." Callie looked at the line for security. "I should get in line."

"Yeah."

"Well, thanks for the ride."

"Not a problem."

She began walking towards the security line, but Mark stopped her. "Callie!" She turned to face him, and he walked over to her and kissed her deeply, his hands in her dark hair. "In case you decide on just friends," he whispered against her mouth. "So I have something to remember." He kissed her again, and her hands went around his neck, her body pressed up against his. She reveled in the touch of his hands, the smell of his cologne, the feel of his leather jacket under her fingers.

"God, I'm gonna miss you," he said, breathlessly.

"I'm going to miss you, too."

"I'm coming to pick you up."

She laughed. "Okay. I'll call you when I get to LA."

"Give Addison my regards."

"I will."

He kissed her one last time. "See ya."

"Bye."

She stood in line and watched him walk down the concourse, headed for the garage, her heart sinking into her stomach.

Addison's house in LA was on the beach, and Callie spent much of Friday night sitting on the verandah, sipping wine with Addison.

"So tell me how this started," Addison said.

"The day you left. We bonded over missing you."

"Wow. That's touching…and kind of creepy."

Callie laughed. "Shut up. But yeah, we starting hanging out so we wouldn't feel so lonely and…we got to be friends."

"Just friends?"

"Yes! We would go for drinks or breakfast, we played Scrabble all night when we were on call. We talked."

"Did he kick your ass at Scrabble?"

"Yes."

"He always does." Addison looked over at her. "He was a good friend?"

"The best. You didn't tell me what a good guy he was."

"Because the Mark I knew wasn't that good of a guy. The Mark I knew was conniving and sleazy and…well, you know. But that's obviously not the Mark you know."

"No. He's…warm, and funny, and he remembers stupid shit about me, like the fact that I like orange juice without pulp. He's thoughtful and caring and…not the horrific manwhore you made him out to be."

"Do you love him?"

"I…I don't know. I care about him."

"Do you want to sleep with him?"

"I…yes and no. Yes because he's all kinds of sexy, but no because…I don't want just sex from him. And I don't want either of us to get hurt." She looked at Addison. "I have lost just about everyone I care about recently-you, George. I can't lose him, Addie. I can't. He keeps me sane."

"Why do you think you'd lose him if you decided to take your relationship to the next level?"

"Because he's Mark. He's a manwhore. He's not faithful. And I can't be hurt that way again."

Addison set her glass down. "Callie, everyone gets hurt at some point. You can't avoid it. And what's to say he won't hurt you another way? I mean, suppose you decide that you just want to be friends with him, and he meets another woman. Won't that hurt just as much?"

"Yeah."

"So your options are to go for it with him and potentially be hurt, or to leave it be and potentially get hurt. The only difference is one option involves dirty, mind-blowing sex, and the other involves…well, you know."

Callie sighed. "Yeah."

Addison stood up. "I'm going to bed. See you in the morning." She leaned over and hugged Callie.

The sliding glass door closed, and Callie picked up her cell phone and dialed Mark.

"Hey."

She could hear Mark smiling over the phone, and she grinned. "Hi."

"How's LA?"

"Sunny."

"And Addison?"

"She's Addison."

"Wouldn't want her any other way. How are you?"

"I'm…okay. Better than I was this morning."

"Get anything figured out yet?"

She laughed. "No. Not yet. But I'm getting there."

"Good."

"I just…I wanted to hear your voice before I went to bed."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."

"Good night, Mark."

"Night, Cal."

Callie hung up and stared at her phone for a moment before heading upstairs to bed. She pulled on the t-shirt of Mark's that she had taken and fell into Addison's guest bed, dreaming of Mark.

The next morning, she walked into the kitchen to find Addison grumbling at the coffeemaker. "Hey! Sleep okay?"

"Yeah. Great."

Addison looked at her askance. "That shirt looks familiar."

Callie flushed but remained silent.

"You slept in Mark's shirt? Does he know you have it?"

"Kind of."

"Okay, you? Are in some serious denial." Addison waved a mug at her. "You are the poster child for denial."

"I am not."

"You slept in his shirt! That he does not know you have!" She gave Callie a look. "Is it one he wore?"

"No, it was from his dresser. He lent it to me the other night."

Addison looked at her. "You want him. Bad."

"I don't know what I want!"

"Yeah, you do," Addison said, handing her a cup of coffee. "You just don't want to admit it."

"Okay, if you're so smart, you tell me what I want."

"You want it both ways. You want Mark to stay your new best friend, and you want the dirty, hot sex, but you don't want admit that you have feelings for him."

"Of course I have feelings for him. He's my friend."

"These feelings you have? More than friendship. You love him."

"And how do you know?"

"Because women who are just friends with a man don't steal his clothes! And sleep in them! That's what a girl does when she has serious want for a guy."

"Whatever. I had no time to pack, so I grabbed what was convenient."

Addison looked at her. "Did you call him last night?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because I'm trying to show you that you have already decided what you want from him! You know how you feel, Callie. You're just scared to admit it."

"So what if I am? Is that so horrible?"

"No. It's not. It's very human, and very understandable. And if Mark feels the same way about you, then what have you got to lose?"

"Everything." Callie sat down and stared at her coffee.

"No." Addison sat down next to her. "You have everything to gain. And who is this scared woman? What happened to my kick-ass-and-take-names Callie Torres?"

"She found out her husband cheated on her with his best friend. That kinda thing leaves a scar."

"Preaching to the choir, here. Trust me, I know." Addison took a sip of her coffee. "You can let that scar ruin your life, or you can get on with it. The Callie I know would pick the latter."

Callie sighed. "So how do I stop being afraid?"

"You don't stop. Being brave doesn't mean not being afraid, Cal. Being brave means being afraid and doing it anyway."

Callie nodded sadly.

"Okay, go shower and get dressed. We're going out."

"Where are we going?"

"Who knows? Let's just go. Get you out of the house-and out of Mark Sloan's clothes-and into the fun and sun of LA."

Callie was nervous as she arrived at the airport on Sunday night. As she deplaned, she looked around for Mark. When she spotted him, she had to stop and take a deep breath to calm her nerves.

He was leaning against the wall, his eyes scanning the crowd for her. When he saw her, his face broke into a grin. The butterflies in Callie's stomach grew stronger as she walked towards him, and she felt herself grinning at him.

"You look rested," Mark said as he pulled her into a hug. "I missed you, Cal."

"I missed you." She looked up at him, and stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his mouth. She moved her arms up to his neck and pulled him closer, nibbling at his bottom lip before his mouth opened to her. She kissed him thoroughly, and when they came up for air, he smiled down at her.

"I guess you decided."

"I did."

"I'm glad."

"Me, too." She kissed him again. "Now take me home and do dirty, bad things to me."

"With pleasure."

Mark drove through the rainy Seattle streets like a bat out of hell, eager to get back to the Archfield with Callie. When they finally reached his room, he set her bags down and walked over to her, kissing her gently.

His hands pushed her jacket off her shoulders, and he threw it haphazardly towards the couch. Picking her up, he moved towards the bed and laid her down gently upon it. His hands made quick work of her shirt, and he nuzzled her neck, gently kissing her. When her hands came up to untuck his shirt, he noticed her hands were trembling.

"Callie?" He stopped and sat up, taking her hand in his. "You're shaking. You cold?"

"No." She bit her lip. "Just a little afraid."

"We don't have to do this."

"I want to, Mark. I want to. This is me being brave."

She untucked his shirt and pulled it over his head, and pulled him down to her. As they kissed his hands roamed over her body, caressing her gently, determined to touch every inch of her.

Her hands moved to the button of his jeans, and she slowly eased them down over his hips, stroking him through his boxers. He groaned into her mouth, his hands pulling her jeans off. They pulled apart only to remove what was left of their clothes, and Callie lay back on the bed, waiting.

Mark kissed his way up her leg, stopping to gently lick the wetness at the apex of her thighs before kissing his way back up to her mouth. "If you want to stop, " he whispered, "now's the time to say something."

"No," she replied. "I don't want you to stop."

He slid into her, reveling in the warm wetness of her. Slowly, he moved over her, kissing everywhere his mouth could reach. It wasn't long before he felt her muscles tense, and she moaned his name, her hips thrusting. A moment later he felt himself come, and reluctant to let go of her for even a moment, he flipped over onto his back and pulled Callie on top of him.

Sighing, she lay her head on his chest, loving the way his fingers stroked her hair. "We should talk about this."

"Probably."

"Just…be gentle with me, Mark. I'm fragile. If you decide that you want someone else, tell me. Don't lead me on and let me think everything is okay."

"I won't decide to want someone else, Callie."

"You can't say that. We don't know the future." She propped herself up and looked at him. "Swear to me that if you find someone else, you'll tell me."

"On the off chance that I do find someone else, I promise I will tell you."

"Good." She lay her head back down, and his hands once again began to stroke her hair.

"Cal?"

"Hmm?"

"You aren't working tomorrow, are you?"

"Nope."

"I was thinking that maybe tomorrow we could go find a place to live. I'm getting really sick of living in a hotel."

"Yeah, we can look for a place for you," she yawned.

"For us."

Sitting up, she grinned at him. "I like the sound of that."