Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy
Pairings: Callie/Erica; Cristina/Owen
Disclaimer: I don’t know the current fancy wording I’m supposed to say about how I know I’m not the copyright holder, make no claims to be a rep of Shonda, the Mark Gordon Company, and ABC, and that this is, in my non-lawyerly opinion, fair use and in my expert opinion, completely not-for-profit, but this is about 15% the length of the fic, so I’ll stop now.
Summary: Just a little vignette about the probable near future of Callie and Cristina’s new apartment.
There was a man in Callie’s apartment, and he was rummaging through the refrigerator in a pair of sweatpants — and only a pair of sweatpants. Erica recognized him as she tentatively padded toward the sink. He was the one who gave Callie the idea to freeze her patient, whose name Erica didn’t remember. And he looked as sleepy as Erica felt in her ridiculous puffy robe she’d stolen from Callie’s closet to go and make coffee, because Callie could do many things, but coffee was not one of them.
“Hello,” he said, noticing her watching him. “You must be the roommate.”
“No,” Erica said, pulling her robe closed a little tighter. “I was just going to make coffee for Dr. Torres, actually.”
“Oh,” the man said. “Well, I was going to make Dr. Yang eggs. I learned some great tricks in the Army to handle a refrigerator as barren as this one.”
Erica allowed herself a tiny smile. Finally, someone who understood her despair at the state of Callie and Yang’s refrigerator. “This is the apartment of permanent students,” she agreed. “Dr. Torres — Callie — cannot make coffee. And does not appear to know what good coffee is.”
“I did wonder who sprang for the pricey french press and coffee grinder,” he said, moving aside gracefully to let her get to it. “All is now revealed. I’m Owen, by the way. Owen Hunt.”
“Erica Hahn,” she replied, measuring the beans. Owen’s eyebrow raised slightly. “Yang has mentioned me, I see.”
“Once or twice,” Owen said calmly. She liked him a little for being classy about what Yang must have said about her. “I’ll make eggs for your Dr. Torres if I can have coffee for Dr. Yang.”
“All right,” Erica said.
That was the last thing they said to each other, quietly and almost companionably making breakfast. She poured two cups of coffee for him and Yang. He gave her half the eggs, which smelled good and looked good. She gave him a half smile, and he gave her a tiny salute before they went back to sleepy lovers.