Title: Let Me Kiss You (1/1)
Summary: Callie struggles to let Arizona in once more and Arizona knows there's only one way to handle it.
Warnings/Spoilers: Post-White Wedding
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners (like Shonda Rhimes and ABC). I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own Grey's Anatomy. I am merely a fan of the television show who has ideas for things that Shonda could do/could've done.
Author's Note: Please review if you read.
(1/1) LET ME KISS YOU
Arizona looks into those sad, slightly closed eyes and falters. She physically cracks in her hold, unsure whether or not to even attempt to be closer to Callie. She steps in again. Her hand rests on the other girl's shoulder as she goes in. Callie resists. It's small, almost like a twitch or a shiver, but Callie resists Arizona. It should feel like a slap in the face. However, it's not the first time this has happened.
Arizona speaks and the voice she hears is far more pleading than she would like it to be. She says, "Just, let me kiss you, Calliope. Let me— don't do this again."
Callie doesn't meet Arizona's gaze. She watches the soft blonde curls bounce against her wife's jacket. She glances towards the clock, ticking away the time until she gets to be back in the O.R. She stares at the wall, which does nothing, but that's better than having to see the wounded, adorable puppy that is an upset Arizona Robbins.
Callie swallows down her feelings of guilt. Not that she needs to. She has every right to not want to be around Arizona. Married couples stay apart all the time. Take - okay, well, the married doctors at Seattle Grace are bad examples, but other couples do it. Of course, Callie's guilt doesn't have to do with the rejection. It's… everything.
She rounds on Arizona and says, "When I first found out I was pregnant, months ago, I said that you would hurt me again. You hurt me, Arizona. More than George and Erica and my dad, you-you threw me through a windshield, and I don't mean that in the very literal way that I could. So much of our relationship is a struggle, and it's not supposed to be this way. I worry about you and me and leaving and I can't comprehend how we've gotten this far and everything isn't right. I just-it's hard for me, okay? Everything lately is just hard. And I don't want a kiss right now, Arizona. I want my life to be better. I want us, but not like this."
Arizona clips her off. "How are we supposed to have us, huh?" she asks. Her eyebrows knot and her dimples pop and her hands find their way into the shot as she emphasizes her frustration at the comment. "I'm sorry, but I can't reverse the clock, Calliope. I can't stop the truck. I can't put your seat belt on and give you the phone back and not go to Africa. It happened, Callie. All of that happened months ago. Where was all of this before? When we got married, you could've said this. You flinch around me. I haven't done anything. Is this residual stuff going to be a problem forever? Am I just going to wind up your second poorly-thought-out marriage?" Arizona asks.
"Arizona!" Callie chides, but she needs not say anything else. The blonde whips around, headed out of the small apartment. Along the way, Arizona grabs her keys and one of the bags by the door.
"I'm sleeping at Mark's apartment tonight," she announces. Her grip on the overnight bag tightens when she thinks of what he'll say when she barges in. "He'll probably be over in a few minutes, and you can tell him all about the horrible things I've done. I'm sure you must be miserable with me as a wife because I spend too much with the sick kids and not enough with Sofia. Or, I storm away when we get into fights. But, it's not easy being married to you either, Calliope. But I handle everything. I love every second of it because this is how it's supposed to be; we are supposed to be together. I know it, you know it, and even Mark knows it. So why are you fighting it again?"
Of the two fights the two of have had since the big white wedding, this is the worst. No broken dishes, or slammed doors, but the problem is serious. Real. Terrifying. It's not about boundaries or feelings, but the things they can't address without a few shots inside of them and a friend to fall apart on. For Callie, Mark is that friend. He always has been and always will be. They will all be eighty-nine years old and Callie will probably cry to Mark about the tapioca pudding cup Arizona ate instead of sharing. And he'll calm her down. He'll fix it. Arizona gets it. She accepts it even. So, she'll spend the night in Mark's apartment, curled up in his bed, alone, because that night will mean tomorrow Callie snatches the pudding, or changes the channel on the TV, or just talks to her without pulling away.
Arizona looks again at Callie with a sigh.
"I'm your wife, Calliope. The last thing I would ever want would be to hurt you. I'm never leaving you again," she says.
"How can you be so sure?" Callie asks.
Hand on the knob, Arizona tells her simply, "We're made for each other."
Arizona turns from those same, sad, slightly closed eyes and walks away.