Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are all Shondaland's. I do enjoy playing with them from time to time, though. Also, the title comes from a track off of Sara Bareilles' new cd, which is lovely.
Callie liked Arizona for a lot of reasons. For one, she was the first blonde that caught Callie's eye and kept it. Before her she never thought perky, blonde girls with big blue eyes and dimples the size of half-dollars were anything to write home about.
For another, she liked watching her with kids. Arizona said she got her best material from Nickelodeon, and Callie believed it. She threw out perfect impressions from Spongebob and had kids clutching their tummies with bouts of giggles. And admittedly, Callie too.
She liked that when Arizona had a really good day at the hospital, she baked. Muffins, brownies, cookies. Boxed, of course, but still delicious. And she'd boast about her killer muffins that were carefully aided by Betty Crocker. And she'd tell Callie that anyone can make a boxed dessert, but she made it well.
She liked that when Arizona had a bad day at the hospital, she ran. She'd run for miles, and come back, and remind Callie that she had let her guilt go, because she'd known she'd done all she could. And she did, and sometimes Callie ran with her. And sometimes they cried. And that was okay, too.
But best of all, Callie liked that Arizona called her on her shit and wasn't afraid to disagree with her. And when she did, she was right. She was bone-chillingly good at dissecting Callie's idiosyncrasies. And she was right. Most of the time.
They lazed in the overstuffed recliner as they stared at the t.v, .flipping through the channels and grazing over half-eaten boxes of Chinese food. Arizona daintily pinched a clump of noodles in between the wooden points of her chop sticks and raised it into her mouth, dropping it in with a satisfied 'mm' afterward. She had three surgeries today, simple procedures. An appendectomy on Jake Collins, an emergency tonsillectomy on Abigail Graveson, and reconstructing Libby Peck's broken wrist that needed three pins and a plate- with Callie at her side of course. All three were successful, but she was ravenous. Eating not only her portions, but what Callie picked over because they pieces of chicken looked "weird."
"You're picky." Arizona said after washing down her last bite with a splash of Dos Equis Light. "About everything."
Callie, who had been engrossed in a program about the animal populous of the Serengeti lazily turned her head to the blonde who was biting into half a stem of broccoli, while the rest waited patiently in her chopsticks. "Hm?"
"You're picky. You always have to have things a certain way. Like, today. We went through three Chinese menus until you found the one that had "not-too-sticky-rice" with "reasonably normal chicken" and Rangoon that weren't too "cheesy" or "crabby" either." She finished, munching on her remaining hunk of broccoli.
"Hey, Arizona, welcome to our relationship, so glad you could finally make it after ten months. Also- I have a right to be satisfied about my food." Callie snickered, reaching for her beer.
"It's not just food." Arizona reminded in that succinctly calm way she had.
"Oh?" Callie quirked an eyebrow and tipped the bottle back.
"Nope, it's everything. Like soap. You hate Ivory because it's too filmy, but you love Dove because it's not as filmy, but the residue it leaves on you is moisturizing and you are comforted by that." Arizona said, digging through the white take-out box for a carrot which she slurped into her mouth.
"So, because I like a certain kind of soap and I'd rather not eat chicken that could actually be a cocker spaniel, I'm picky?" She scoffed, cocking a half grin simultaneously.
"That's right." Arizona smiled.
"And you're not picky?" Callie quirked a brow again and waited for her response.
"I can be, but not as picky as you."
"Bull." Callie sipped. "We searched three beer distributors until you found Dos Equis Light..."
"Well." Arizona said, enjoying the way Callie properly pronounced the beer's name, the sound of Spanish intonation always sending her arms and legs into a rupture of gooseflesh. "Beer is empty calories, and I knew I was going to eat Chinese, which is not the best for you anyway, so I figured I'd help my heart out in some way."
"Weak, but, okay-" Callie paused, thinking, "what about that thing with your coffee?"
"It's all about the size of the scoop, Calliope, not the coffee. You have to put the right amount in for it to taste good," She sighed, biting into another carrot. "It's logic."
Callie was laughing now, having to put her beer on the end table to fully grasp and comprehend this situation. "And are you a doctor of barista science now?"
"No," Arizona chuckled. "I just like coffee, I'd like it to taste the best it can so I can be on my toes to save lives and keep my general awesomenimity up."
"One, that's not a word, two, I like Chinese to taste the best, and my skin to feel the best for people like you who like to touch people like me frequently." Callie defended, removing herself from the recliner to get another beer from the fridge
"Okay, I'll give you the second one, but what about football?" Arizona said as she pivoted her body, projecting her voice over the back of the chair. "You can't pick one team because you like them, there's always something wrong. Seahawks play inside at home and that's a "pussy" move in your book. Steelers have too many Super Bowl rings. Cowboys are too commercial... Oh, and the Patriots are not America's football team, if anyone should be you think it should be the Redskins who you hate because of their coaching staff." Arizona set her take out down and rested her chin against the luxuriant leather backing of the seat.
With her hip cocked, Callie took a sip of a freshly opened beer. "And who is your football team, Arizona?"
"Duh, the Cardinals." She said, like it was common knowledge, as she rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.
"Forgive me, I forgot you often rush out of surgeries to watch the games, and I thought I saw Kurt Warner panties on your ass the other day." Callie's voice echoed with sarcasm, and her big brown eyes rolled animatedly.
"No, but I get live updates on my Blackberry. And those panties would be Fitzgerald, honey. I like him. He's classy." She shrugged her sweatshirt clad shoulders.
"Shouldn't you be glad I'm picky? Out of the sea of wanting arms, I picked yours!" Callie's tone remained playful as she pointed toward the blonde sitting backward in the chair.
"Well, actually, I think it's fair to say I picked you. I kissed you in the bathroom and you liked what you saw. And then we kissed in the stairs, and in on-call room 7, and then in the l-"
"Oh, so that's how it goes." Callie cut the woman off before she had a chance to finish. "You saw lonely, dejected little ol' me sitting at the bar and you felt bad for me so you swooped in like Super Lez armed to the nines with your... your kissing and your hands, and your aggressiveness!" Callie was waving her free hand with gusto and if Arizona didn't know better she'd think the fiery Latina had swapped places with an equally as heated Italian. "And then, you called me a newborn!"
"Okay. Not dejected. Hot, in that broody kinda way. And for your information it took me three," Arizona held up three fingers for emphasis as she spoke, "glasses of wine to even get the courage to talk to you, and the fourth was just a cautionary one..." Arizona trailed off, watching the contempt brew in Calliope Torres' visage. She had to act fast and decided to close the gap between the two of them in a few short strides to the kitchen, sidling up to Callie. "And the newborn comment was sucky. And not true." She grinned, moving to wrap her arms around Callie's waist. "So very, very not true."
"Oh no, no. You're not smiling and charming your way out of this one. I hope you like the new chair, 'cause you are not getting in bed with me tonight." Callie crossed her arms underneath her t-shirt clad breasts and tried to remain as menacing as she could, shaking the hands off her in the meantime.
What Arizona liked best about Callie was that she was tough. Not just strong-willed. But tough. If she said Arizona was sleeping on the couch, she'd be there. But Callie, like all heroines, had a weak spot. That weak spot had quickly become Arizona's favorite motto. When in doubt: pout.
"Don't you dare..." Callie seethed noticing the angelic features of her girlfriend sag into a perfected pout, equipped with widening china blue eyes, and the lilt of those brows, the crinkle of that nose... "Arizona Robbins!"
"Dr. Torres..." She replied, edging closer until she'd successfully backed Callie into the corner between the 'fridge and the counter next to the sink. "I think you should know that I had a crush on you the first time I saw you, we spoke! You didn't even notice me."
"No way." Callie said, arms crossed tightly around her still.
"Way." Arizona nodded, hands moving into that mass of inky tress, moving it back and off that neck into a mock ponytail, all the while enjoying the silken feeling between her digits. "You were setting a bone, I believe it was a tibia. Hooper McPherson... do you remember? He was eight, and freaked, and still in his baseball uniform, and you were telling him about the time you slid into home plate and chipped your front tooth."
"You were in there?" Callie asked.
"Well, passing by to make sure he was holding up. But he was giggling, and you were glowing. And I was kind of stunned. Well more than kind of. So I started asking around. You are well liked. I'd even asked techs how they felt about you. They said you were funny, and sweet. And you are. And so I had to see for myself. So glad I did. Really." She murmured, pressing her lips against Callie's chin.
And Callie, then, was pinned. Literally and figuratively. And when Arizona said things like that a fountain of butterflies tickled along her stomach lining. A lot. And she forgot about being mad at Arizona for calling her picky. Instead she focused on her lips and the fact that they were inching closer, and she couldn't help but oblige them. Because she knew Arizona was being purposely cheesy, but she couldn't help but feed into her. She wondered when that would stop. She hoped never.
"And today, in Libby Peck's surgery. You were so quick. You inserted those pins with the precision of a machine. And I like how focused you get, and all I can see is your eyes over your mask...and the way you crinkle your eyebrows because you're focusing. And how I can still see the little wisps at the back of your scrub cap..." Arizona said, thumb trailing between those perfectly manicured brows. "And how you checked on her after, and told her she was like a bionic woman now, and that was hardcore."
Callie knew what Arizona was doing, but she didn't dare complain. Instead her hands fell easily around the slender hips of her girlfriend, rubbing small circles around her lower back. "Arizona..." Her tone had lessened in severity and her eyes had partially lidded.
"I didn't say I minded that you were picky, just that you were picky." Arizona whispered before gently closing the gap between their lips.
Callie still appreciated the wave of electricity that accompanied those kisses, passing through her body, shocking her heart into overdrive, and sending tingles of sensation down into her toes. She enjoyed that. At the hospital, Arizona seemed carefree with nothing but a smile and a dimples and shoes on wheels, but at home she was sometimes just raw aphrodisiac energy.
But now she was pushing-no-hoisting Callie upwards with unknown strength from those, what Callie would call, scrawny arms of hers.
Callie was no longer backed into the corner, but sitting on the Formica now. Arizona's hands were smoothing over Callie's denim clad thighs, against the sultry curvature of her hips, and underneath the soft material of her faded purple v-neck. At once, they slid up tantalizingly slow to her breasts and underneath the flimsy fabric of her sports bra. Callie buckled forward, grateful for the sturdy support of Arizona's body against hers, and her mouth that so easily caught the moan in hers.
It didn't take long for those hands and that mouth to cause Callie to tug Arizona by her shoulders closer, until she was nearly bent all the way over to kiss her. Ravenously. They stayed like that for awhile- kissing- hands passing through soft strands of hair, down along slender columns of neck, along satiny flesh. Callie was the first to pull away and slip off the counter, taking hold of Arizona's hand and leading her off to the bedroom.
Arizona would have liked to stay in the kitchen, but she knew the last time they stayed in the kitchen Cristina and Owen had walked in on them. Owen had, impossibly, turned redder than usual and Cristina starting cussing and calling them "pervy gays" while they giggled and sprinted toward the back of the apartment. But now, as Callie was pushing her off her feet and into the comfort of her unmade duvet, Arizona felt whole and tugged the comforting pressure of those curves against her own lithe ones. Her denim clad legs slid up and around Callie's ass, keeping her closer as it were.
Callie lifted off gently, pushing Arizona's hooded sweatshirt off her form and skillfully reaching around to one-handedly undo the clasp of her bra, eliciting a chuckle from the blonde and a whispered murmur of "you're getting too good at that..." before she was silenced by those full lips and the presence of hands across her now bare chest. Thumbs swirled around instantly hardening buds while Callie caught the impending groan in her mouth. No matter how many times she got to take off Arizona's shirt, she always enjoyed what hid so modestly underneath. Wiggling her captive backside free, Callie began her descent, nipping and kissing at Arizona's neck, grinning as the blonde took in fistfuls of her hair, attempting to lock her there. Callie wasn't so easily kept though, and began to feel the effects between her legs of listening to her girlfriend whispering her name into her darkened bedroom, just in time to remove those jeans and underwear in one fell swoop.
What Arizona enjoyed most about time like this, was the look that Callie got in her eyes. A dark, devious look that furrowed her brow, indenting the skin there. She'd wrinkle later, and a thrill shifted through Arizona, wondering if she'd be around long enough to see it. And now set in the time where Arizona could no longer operate, she let Callie go. She could feel her heart, thudding, sloshing, mangling any hopes of calm she hoped to keep for the precursor moments of anticipation. She'd seen this look so many times and knew it only meant pleasure to follow. Pleasure she couldn't even put into words, especially when the presence of those fingers made themselves known to the blonde.
And so she resorted to sounds. Guttural, soulful sounds that the brunette elicited each and every time they explored the sexual chemistry. So volatile, that often, it exploded, leaving both alarmed, but satisfied.
Callie had one of Arizona's legs propped against her shoulder while her left hand steadied her on the bed and her right delivered that raw, emotional pleasure in the form of short, powerful thrusts. Thumb worked, and re-worked on its sensitized prize and Arizona's back buckled upwards, rivaling any yoga position she'd ever done, giving homage to this goddess between her knees. Arizona knew that while Callie's exterior suggested only the most feminine of people; all dark hair, dark eyes, full red lips, glossy raven hair. Her interior was just the opposite. Arizona would argue that Callie was one of the most male-minded women she'd ever met, made perfectly clear by the way they made love. Or rather, the way Callie dominated the sheets with an aggression Arizona was not used to, but welcomed in every single way.
Arizona's nails dug into Callie's bare back, most likely revisiting the half-moon scars she'd made a few nights prior. She could make no intelligible words, and she didn't need to. Callie's lips nestled up her neck, nipping and whispering scintillating praise for just how much she was enjoying this. Arizona's eyes closed involuntarily when Callie went into particularly descriptive detail about how much she liked fucking her and then slipped in a few "tu cuerpo… tus piernas… tu cula.. tus senas." This shot Arizona to the top of the ever-growing list of mind-shattering orgasms that this woman delivered, punctuated by a high pitched exclamation of, "Oh fuck...Callie!"
The sensation caused her to see spots in her vision for a few moments, while the rush of emotion nearly teased a few tears from her eyes. Legs still shook and sweat gathered at her hairline. She looked over at Callie who smiled at her like the cat that ate the canary. Without notice she pounced the woman, and held her wrists captive above her head, easing down to kiss her. This was not a church kiss by any means, but instead one that could have drawn blood had the blonde not let up on the force of the lip between her teeth. Callie knew this meant business and shook slightly in anticipation.
Arizona's left hand kept a forceful hold on the woman's wrists while her right took its time exploring down the curvaceous upper half of the Latina. She'd seen this view from this position many times before, even yesterday, but it never got old to her. What she loved most about Callie was that she kept her on her toes, kept her reeled in, and guessing constantly. After lovingly caressing and kissing as far down as she could along the silky swells of Callie's breasts, her hand disappeared in between strong thighs.
Where Callie was raw passion, Arizona was a bit softer. Her forehead pressed against Callie's, hands held the pair captive, while her free one stroked and pleasured with a skillfulness behind it that would still have the other woman reeling in a few days. Not needing too much of a push in any direction, Callie followed the woman's touches, hips rising and falling in tandem with her love's hand. Before long, she managed to free her hands and wrapped herself entirely around the blonde. At the newfound ability to touch the other woman, Callie groaned against her ear while Arizona nearly panted into the other's. Her fingers needed no aid as they continued on their way, before stopping suddenly.
"Oh, no.. don't you dare, Arizona Robbins," Callie warned, though tone betrayed the pleading she wished to hide.
Arizona just grinned to the woman below her, pushing the hair away from her forehead. Her fingertips retreated from the woman's centre before she backed up, pressing kisses along the woman's stomach, down her thighs, and finally resumed where her fingers had stopped. This action alone could have tumbled Callie into a fit of pleasure, but she did her best to hold off, head rocking backward as the woman's tongue made quick movements against that bundle of nerves. Callie's hands tangled in Arizona's blonde tress while she nearly screamed Arizona's name, fleetingly grateful that Cristina was on the night shift tonight. When those same fingers found their way back to bucking, it was only a few more seconds before Callie was engulfed in pleasant tremors, penetrating the heady air with sounds of appreciation and gratitude.
It took Callie everything inside of her not to fall asleep due to full body exhaustion. Instead she comforted the presence of Arizona and her paisley printed Egyptian cotton sheets, both wrapping around her like one large security blanket that she never wanted to get out of.
Arizona's head fell below Callie's chin and her nose brushed along the fragrant skin there. This woman did things to her that no other woman she'd ever been with could even fathom doing for her. It was just as much startling as it was exciting.
"I'd say I love you, but that seems cliché. So I adore you, Calliope. And I never want to leave this bed again." Arizona said softly against Callie's shoulder. "We can practice medicine out of here."
"Deal. Let's never leave this bed." Came Callie's sleepy reply, giddy little giggle coming after before she sighed happily.
Arizona liked Callie for a lot of reasons. For one, looking at her made her breath catch in her throat, even on the days that Callie was in a day old ponytail, still wearing her scrubs, poring over research in her blue polka dotted reading glasses.
For another, Callie was the most uninhibited person she'd ever met. She liked the way she sang along with the tracks playing in the grocery stores with wild abandon, or how when she was stressed she danced it out until she was too busy laughing to be worried anymore. And this was infectious to Arizona.
She liked watching her sleep, and how after they had nights like these Callie slept like a baby. How her long glossed chocolate lashes fanned out in a way that suggested she might be a princess from a storybook. How when Arizona looked at Callie, metaphors of fluffy childish quality filled her head and all she could think about was spending everyday next to this woman. She liked being woken up hours later to go for round two, when she wasn't even sleeping, but lying there with her eyes closed in anticipation for what was to come.
But best of all, Arizona liked reaching next to her and realizing, despite their differences and polar personalities, that this woman was all hers. And she, hers.
"I love you Calliope Torres," She whispered into the darkness, biting back a giggle as a snore rumbled from the woman's nose in reply.