U-Haulin’ Before the First Date
Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy
Disclaimer: Shondaland, Mark Gordon Company, and ABC own the money-making stuff; I just do cutesy girl-girl fluff for amusement.
Summary: Young doctors who cry AND tool on each other over behaving like lesbian stereotypes, despite this being an instance of the pot calling the kettle black.
Callie hated Cristina sometimes. Like right now. Informing someone you were moving out of their crappy apartment to live with someone you were kind of sort of fooling around with wasn’t supposed to be interrogated, damn it.
“Wait…so you’re actually dating Hahn?” Cristina asked. “And what happened on my couch wasn’t some weird drunken mishap never to be spoken of again?”
“We haven’t actually gotten to the dating part,” Callie admitted, rubbing her hair. “But unlike you, Erica has a whole bedroom where I can put my stuff and does not make fun of me for being a baby about making out with a girl on the couch.”
Cristina was practically bent double and Callie wished that Yang wasn’t healing from that icicle in the gut, because then Callie would go and kick Cristina repeatedly in the abdomen.
“What the hell is so funny?” asked Callie, putting a hand on her hip.
“Dude, you’re u-hauling it before the first date,” Cristina said. “You’re not even officially gay yet and you’re already a lesbian cliche.”
“Really?” asked Callie, not quite understanding what Cristina meant, except it was making fun of her and lesbianism. “Nuh-uh.”
“Yeah-huh,” Cristina said, leaning toward her bedroom. “Meredith, it’s totally cliche for two lesbians to move in together early in the relationship, isn’t it? Though I have to admit, u-hauling before the first date is extreme.”
“Grey is here?” Callie asked, just as Grey stuck her pointy little head out. “Speaking of cliches — I thought you and Shepherd had decided to move in together and evict the frat house.”
Meredith sighed. Cristina snorted. It was turning into a jamboree, because right on cue, there was Erica maneuvering into the apartment with another set of boxes, and Callie was about to give up and go live under a bridge because seriously. Seriously.
“Oh, god,” said Erica. “What inane personal conversation are we having now?”
“Are we u-hauling?” Callie asked, now panicked. “Are we u-hauling before the first date? Is that bad? How can I be a lesbian cliche when I don’t know anything about being gay or even if I’m bisexual or anything?”
Erica’s gaze went straight to Cristina. “Yang,” she snarled.
“Why are you blaming me?” Cristina replied petulantly. “Also, I find it amusing that you also know what u-hauling is. Meredith didn’t know. Callie didn’t know.”
“Cristina, could you stop getting me in trouble?” asked Meredith. “Also, I got what you meant.”
“I find it interesting that you know about u-hauling,” Erica said, dropping the boxes and folding her arms. “Seeing as you seem to think that’s some big lesbian indicator, Yang. Care to enlighten us?”
“I got a Ph.D. in biochem from Berkeley,” said Cristina with a sneer. “Berkeley. After an MD from Stanford. Try not being queer-friendly in the Bay Area. There are kids in Santa Rosa who don’t even think homophobia exists.”
“Oooh, is that part of your CV? Is friendly to the gays, but rampant biphobia causes questionable statements in the practical exam,” Erica retorted acidly.
Callie held up a hand. As entertaining as it could be to watch Erica and Yang go three rounds, she was moving off Cristina’s couch now and was kind of looking forward to having her own bed again. Hell, once things started going well, she could be sharing a bed again soon, which wouldn’t suck and was being delayed by Erica vs. Cristina, round eighty billion.
“Guys,” she said. “Could we get to the packing up of my crap now? I mean, when you two play I’m a total surgical badass with no discernible social skills, it gets old.”
“I KNOW, right?” Meredith piped in, causing Cristina to glare at her fiercely. “What?”
“Dude, you know you’re mocking an attending, right?” Cristina asked. “I’m just saying.”
“Yang, shut up,” said Erica.
“Fine, but you are u-hauling before the first date,” Cristina said. “That is a new level of lesbianism that makes your previous one look bi-curious.”
Grey made gestures at Yang that were probably play-fake slaps, but they were so fluttery-looking that Callie couldn’t even call them that.
“Stop it already,” Grey said. “Come on, we have to discuss how to handle evicting Alex and Izzie from my house.”
Wonder of wonders, Cristina decided to stop being a bitch and followed Meredith toward her bedroom.
“I’m not giving you and McDreamy my apartment,” Cristina said. “Just so you know.”
“Thanks,” Meredith said sarcastically as she closed Yang’s bedroom door behind them and Erica took a very deep breath.
“Why does she have to be so good at cardio-thoracic? Why is murder a crime?” Erica hissed, handing Callie a box.
“I don’t know. For the same reason you and Yang have to behave like Regina and Cady in Mean Girls when you get near each other,” Callie said, putting her clothes in the box.
Erica set one careful hand on Callie’s shoulder. “Are you ready for what happens when your ex-husband finds out?” she asked, trying to smile. “I mean, if Yang has you rattled…?”
“Yang aims to piss me off,” Callie said. “And I’m so not worried about what O’Malley has to say.”
Because seriously, what was George going to say that couldn’t be trumped by, “I didn’t run off and have sex with Izzie two seconds after things got hard, so screw you?”
“Izzie Stephens? Addison? Bailey?” Erica continued. “Between Yang, Grey, and Sloan, this is no longer a secret, unless I’m really wrong about how sex gossip travels around this hospital.”
“You’re way, way too practical,” Callie said, exhaling noisily at the thought of Bailey’s expression at the news, and Bailey had caught her having sex with Mark in an on-call room with her son in tow. “I just…how do you deal with it so gracefully when I’m like freaking out that someone’s gonna call me a big dyke?”
Erica grinned slightly. “Do you really think this is the first time I’ve been called a big dyke?” she asked wryly. “Then you have to add in that to most people, two women kissing is, well, the definition of gay, and then that I get to kiss you and…I don’t care so much.”
“Yeah, but I get to kiss you, and that’s even more awesome,” Callie interrupted.
Erica’s smile could light up even Yang’s dank apartment, even when she was clearly itching to be gone.
“Don’t freak out, but every time you say something like that, I get weak at the knees,” Erica confessed, biting her lip slightly and then gazing at the box she’d just filled with Callie’s wrinkled and nasty clothes. “Good God, Torres, how many pairs of underwear do you own?”
“I usually buy new packs when I can’t find any clean ones,” Callie said with a shrug.
“There is this remarkable device called a washing machine. I own one,” Erica said. “It makes dirty clothes clean.”
Callie snorted. “Is that the best you can do?” she said. “Come on, Hahn. How about something like, ‘This remarkable device makes dirty panties clean — until I decide to get rid of yours, hot stuff.'”
Erica choked. Callie snickered, hoping that Yang and Grey had heard that and gotten shocked down to their evil little socks, because if she was going to be outed to the hospital, it was going to be for something good, and not for making out on a couch.
“Weak at the knees?” Callie inquired as Erica continued to choke and throw more of Callie’s socks and panties into a box.
“Temporarily rendered speechless with a combination of lust, delight, and horror, yes,” Erica said, flushing slightly.
This was going to be fun, even if they were u-hauling. Callie liked to torture people who were cocky but blushed when things got really dirty and the torture was definitely leading somewhere, so…
“Good,” Callie said.