Title: Dancing Queen
Summary: Baby!fic one-shot. It's time for Sofia's first ballet recital and Arizona is reluctantly put in charge. Fluffy fluffiness ahead. I'm not sure if it's a sequel or part of new verse but this is set approx. six months after What Can't Wait.
Author: ForeverLeyton
Rating: PG
Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's or it's characters. That's still Shonda.
A/N: Ironically, I'm posting this story (which was already written) immediately after attending two nieces' dance recital. 65 dances and 4 hours later, I'm with Arizona on recitals. Adorable insanity.
Beta'd and inspired by Roughian who would rather dance on a rainy beach than a giant stage.
"Hey you," Arizona smiled into her cell phone, kicking down the Pediatric post-op hall in her heelies. "Calling for a quickie in on-call room 8 before the end of shift?" She teased. Mostly teased. But with Callie seven months pregnant and still working a full surgical rotation, extracurricular activity had been few and far between recently. If Callie was calling to initiate a little workday fun, Arizona Robbins was not going to complain.
"Ha, I wish," Callie sighed on the other end of the line. Arizona could hear weariness, tinged with something else she couldn't identify, in Callie's voice. "I'm walking to the OR now."
"Oh," Arizona pouted, her hopes of seducing her wife squashed. She cocked the phone against her shoulder and knelt down in front of Nicholas Marks, a five year old patient with hydrocephalus and chronically untied shoelaces. "You're going to trip, buddy, and then Dr. Torres' is will have to help me fix you."
"Huh?" Callie huffed into the phone, holding it away from her briefly as though the screen provided some answers to Arizona's comment.
"Sorry. Sorry, Callie. Nicky's walking to the playroom and—"
"And his shoelaces are untied," Callie guessed, adding a smile to the exhaustion in her tone.
"Exactly," Arizona replied. "There you go, mijo. There's a new Zhu Zhu pet in there waiting for you." She patted the grinning boy's thigh and straightened up. "Ok, I'm back. What's up?"
"Calliope?" Arizona asked again when she heard no response from Callie.
"Yeah, I'm here. Sorry. I like when you speak Spanish. It's kind of cute."
Arizona grinned and skated up to the nurse's station, glancing down at the chart Nurse Brandon stuck under her nose. "Sure you don't have a few minutes? I could try out a little more of the Spanish I've picked up from you over the years."
"I wish," Callie repeated. "Seriously. But that's not why I called. I'm going to be late tonight. Hunt paged; there was a boat accident in the Sound. Twelve people are coming in, lots of broken bones."
"Ok," Arizona hummed, distracted by the radiologist's report she was skimming. "You be a rock star, Sof and I will…Wait!" Her head jerked up and she nearly bobbled the phone as she remembered the family's plans for the evening. "Tonight?" She shrieked. "You can't be late tonight."
Callie was thankful she had turned down the volume on her phone in anticipation of this reaction. "Arizona," she patiently responded, "there's nothing I can do about it. I'm the Ortho on call. Twelve people hurt, honey," she reminded her wife, appealing to Arizona's well-known bleeding heart.
"I don't care if it's twenty people, Calliope. Dance. Recital."
"I know, babe, and I'm not going to miss it. I don't think I'm going to miss it," she frowned into the phone. "I'm only…going to be a little late."
"How late?"
"Ah…Too late to get her ready."
"Calliope," Arizona whined, aware she sounded worse than their three year old daughter before bedtime.
"It's tights and a leotard, Arizona. Not brain surgery. And you've done brain surgery!"
"What about Mark? He's coming, why can't he—"
"I'm going to stop you there, Robbins. Remember the last time Mark tried to do her hair? It took me weeks to comb out the tangles."
Unable to stop herself, Arizona giggled at the memory. Sofia had come home from a weekend with Mark, her hair a matted mess after her father's valiant attempts to give her the 'braids like Momma' that she requested.
Her laughter faded into a moan, however, when she heard Callie add, "Her hair has to go in a bun and there's a little bit of makeup packed in her dance bag." Makeup. For a three year old. Dear God.
"Listen, I've been thinking about it. Maybe she's too young for a recital. Next year—"
"Not a chance, Arizona." Callie nipped that idea in the bud.
"Damnit. This is why I voted for soccer."
"Hola, Momma," Sofia chirped from her seat at the daycare coloring table. She didn't glance up from the rainbow she was coloring but she sensed her Momma's presence when the shadow materialized above her.
"Hi, baby girl. Pretty rainbow."
"Uh huh."
"Thank you," Arizona corrected her.
"Thank you, Momma," Sofia dutifully parroted, still not looking up from her work.
Arizona kneeled down next to her daughter and plucked a smooth kiss to her cheek, enjoying the way her daughter squirmed away from her with a squeal. "Ready to go?"
"Five more minutes, Momma. Please?" Sofia pulled out Arizona's typical bargaining tool, turning those big brown eyes to face her Momma for the first time.
"Well," Arizona pretended to consider. "You can stay five more minutes, but I guess I'll have to call Mrs. Macey. Tell her you are going to miss—"
"My 'cital!" Sofia exclaimed, instantly reminded that she would be dancing on a stage tonight. "Listo, Momma," she announced, racing towards the daycare door.
"Colors, Sofia. We gotta clean up this mess."
"Uggh," Sofia muttered, but she was wise enough to keep her moan under her breath. Coming back to the table with the smallest of stomps, she helped her Momma scoop up the crayons spread all over and dump them in the designated pink plastic box. Before her Momma could remind her, she turned a blinding smile (one that was undoubtedly Sloan) to her teacher and waved, "Bye-bye, Mr. M. See ya' later, crocodile."
Arizona laughed at Sofia's mangling of Mark's frequent farewell. "Bye, Mike. Wish me luck," she sighed and grabbed Sofia's book bag.
They stepped out the hospital doors in perfect sync and walked into the massive parking lot, Sofia grabbing Arizona's hand automatically. It was the tiniest gesture of obedience but small moments like that reminded Arizona that they—she, Callie and yes, Mark—were raising a good kid. Surely she could handle a dance recital.
Glancing down at Sofia and swinging their joined hands, Arizona asked, "Are you so excited to be a beautiful ballerina tonight?"
"Mmmhmm," Sofia replied, bouncing in her shoes in an excited motion that was 100% Arizona. " ¿Recuerdes mi corona?"
Hard as she tried, all Arizona got out of that sentence was her daughter asking about a beer. "English, baby girl. Momma's still learning."
Sofia giggled at that because she loved the way her Momma looked when she didn't understand something. Her face got all…scrunchy. "Crown, Momma," the little girl explained obviously. "I need my crown."
"Got it," Arizona assured her, completely uncertain whether the crown was packed or not. Dance class was Calliope's thing. Besides making sure the lessons were scheduled on their family calendar, Arizona was woefully outside her element.
"Are you going to be a princess or a ballerina tonight, mija?"
"Mmm," Sofia considered the question seriously before her eyes brightened. "A princess ballerina, Momma!'
"Ooohh, good choice," Arizona exclaimed, pushing the button to unlock her Buick Enclave. "A princess ballerina. Where do you live?"
"In a castle, Momma!"
"A castle, of course. Do you dance in your castle?"
"Mmmhmm. Because…" She scrunched up her face in thought, completely unaware her expression was an exact replica of her Momma's confused face. "Because there are music everywhere!"
"There is music everywhere."
"Uh huh. And mirrors!"
"Mirrors?" Arizona asked as she buckled the excited girl into her booster seat.
"To watch me! Then I can spin and spin and spin."
"You sure could," Arizona agreed. "What do they call spinning in ballet class?"
"Pir'ette!"
"Yep, pirouette. Good girl. Want to turn on some music while we drive?"
"Yeah!" Sofia exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air and already bobbing her head to the beat. There was no doubt their daughter inherited Callie's musical talent. The only problem was she also picked up Arizona's tendency to sing incorrect lyrics at the top of her lungs. So there they were, two girls, jamming down the interstate and belting out mangled lyrics to Taylor Swift's Love Story. The music was cranked so loud that Arizona barely heard the cell phone ring announcing Callie's call. Catching the tail end of the ring, Arizona flipped off the radio quickly.
"Momma!' Sofia instantly protested the quiet.
"Hello? Callie, hold on." Arizona flipped the phone to speaker and told her daughter, "Mami's calling, Sof. Say hello."
Instantly distracted, Sofia shouted, "Hi, Mami!"
"Hey, cariña. Ready to rock and roll on stage tonight?"
"Mami," Sofia sighed, "it's ballet!"
"Oh, right. Are you going to be a good girl for Momma while she gets you dressed?"
"Uh huh," Sofia nodded, forgetting her Mami couldn't see her.
"Excuse me?" Callie asked.
"Ma'am," Sofia dutifully responded.
"Ok. Good. I'll be in the audience to watch you dance, mija. I'm so proud of my pretty ballerina."
"Yep," Sofia answered, the levity of Callie's comments flying over her head.
Arizona laughed at the girl and spoke up, "You're wasting your pride, honey. She's got Taylor Swift be-bopping in her head. How are the surgeries going?"
"They're going," Callie responded in a tone that told Arizona at least one of her patients didn't make it. "I've got a pelvic repair now but that should be it. I'll be there," she promised.
"You better," Arizona demanded but she softened the command with a gentle laugh. "We'll be fine, Callie. You go save some lives."
"Ok. I just wanted to say hi to my girls."
The sadness coating Callie's voice sent a quiet ache to Arizona's heart. "I'm sorry," she whispered softly, hoping Callie understood.
"Yeah. I'm ok. Job sucks sometimes, right?"
"It does."
Callie huffed out a breath. "Ok. I'll take a hug when I get there, though."
"Deal," Arizona promised. "Oh, God."
"What?" Callie asked.
"We, ah—I just pulled into the theatre parking lot. There are a bazillion cars here, Calliope."
"I'm sure it's no more than a thousand, Arizona," Callie intoned.
"Nope. One bazillion cars. That means there are twelve bazillion children inside that building."
Standing outside the operating washroom, Callie rolled her eyes. "You're a pediatrician." This was a song and dance they played on repeat in their house.
"A pediatric surgeon, Calliope. And sick kids are different. They're…quieter."
"Our daughter is not quiet, Arizona, and neither are you. The two of you together could rival an entire playground of five year olds."
"Ok. Ok. I got this. We got this, right, baby girl?"
"Yep," Sofia yelped from the backseat, still nodding to the music in her head.
"There you go. I love my girls."
"We love you, too," Arizona replied.
"T'ámo, Mami," Sofia mumbled, distracted by the crowd of giggling girls in the car beside theirs.
"I'll see you in the theatre, Callie. Good surgery vibes."
"Thanks. Good dancing vibes for you."
Arizona walked into the backstage area of the theatre and was immediately met with bedlam. "Crap," she muttered to herself, her worst fears realized.
"Dr. Robbins. Sofia," Sofia's instructor greeted them.
"Hello," Arizona smiled, squeezing Sofia's hand to remind the girl to say hello.
"Hi, Mrs. Macey," Sofia whispered against Arizona's thigh. The noisy crowd, filled with older girls in bedazzled costumes, injected the young girl with a rush of getting-comfortable shyness.
Realizing the girl would need a minute, Mrs. Macey smiled at Arizona. "The three year olds are waiting in Room B," she said, pointing in the room's general direction. "You can head back there. Your co-room moms are already there."
"Thanks," Arizona replied, tugging Sofia's hand. "We'll just—ah, what? Room moms?"
"Yeah," Mrs. Macey casually replied, sidetracked by a ten year old with broken wings. Literally.
"I'm…I'm a room mom?" Arizona squeaked.
Finally focusing on the obviously panicked mom, Mrs. Macey nodded. "Dr. Torres called and told us she would be late. She said you'd take her spot as room mom and… And she didn't tell you," Mrs. Macey guessed.
"No. No, she didn't," Arizona replied, dropping a hand on Sofia's shoulder when she began to inch towards a twirling Aurora in stunning pink sparkles. "Probably because she knew I'd catch the first flight to Aruba," Arizona admitted with a nervous laugh. "But, it's fine," she assured the teacher. "I'll just go…um, figure out what a room mom does."
"It's easy. There's three of you," Mrs. Macey waved off the responsibility that was terrifying Arizona. "The other parents, they'll drop off the girls, in full costume, and you just…control the chaos," she laughed. "Hold them there until I can come get them before their number. Once their dance is done, you'll come back to meet me and keep them until the finale. We've got the room all set up, crayons, snacks, music. The basics."
"Ok," Arizona nodded. That doesn't sound too bad.
"Oh, and," Mrs. Macey added before Arizona could walk away. "There are also emergency supplies."
"First aid?" Arizona asked, instantly comforted. She could handle first aid.
"Oh, ah, of course," the teacher laughed breathlessly, "but I meant a dancing emergency. You know, back up tights, bobby pins, a sewing kit. That kind of thing. Easy."
Easy, Arizona repeated in her head, puffing out a breath of air across her bangs. "Got it." With any luck, Callie would take the second shift. She only had to survive the next hour. Gathering her courage, Arizona pulled Sofia down the hall and took a deep breath before opening the door. Unto the breach.
This is what she heard when she opened the door: "Ahhhh." "Sssspppiiinnnn." "Mine." "No." "Right now." "I want the red one." "She bit me!" "You're beautiful!" "Go away." "Sofia!" All blended with high-pitched giggles until the result was a single scream piercing Arizona's brain.
Undaunted and unafraid, Sofia darted into the room, her shyness disappearing in the face of her friends. "Kenzie!" She shouted, taking off in the direction of McKenzie Kohl, daughter of Dr. Annabeth Kohl, Radiology, and a fellow Seattle Grace daycare student.
"Sofia!" Arizona shouted and then shrugged her child's disappearance off. She'd catch her in a second, after she'd said hello to the other moms in the room.
Approaching a blonde stay-at-home mom Arizona had met twice while sitting in on Sofia's dance class, Arizona stuck out her hand and smiled her best super magic smile. "Hi. Michelle, right?"
"Yes," the blonde smiled but something about her smile and handshake set Arizona instantly, perhaps unreasonably, on edge. "Sofia's other mother, right?"
"Yep," Arizona responded. "You're Katie's mom? Sofia says Katie has the most beautiful hair in all the world," Arizona told her with a grin, hoping the confided compliment would ease the strange tension between the women.
But Michelle ignored the olive branch. "Dr. Torres couldn't make it tonight?" She asked, continuing on before Arizona could respond. "Two surgeons, well three really, right? Busy family."
"Ah, yeah," Arizona frowned. She was pretty sure this woman was chastising her career choices. "I'm going to, ah, get Sofia dressed now," she announced, turning to make her escape. "Sofia," Arizona called to her daughter. When the toddler blissfully ignored her Momma, Arizona added, "Sofia Robin Torres," the dreaded full name coming out more harshly than she intended.
Sofia instantly recognized the tone and, her eyes popping wide, rushed over to her Momma's side. Clutching the bottom of Arizona's shirt, Sofia said, "Right here, Momma."
"Hey, baby girl." Dropping to her knees and sliding the dance bag off her shoulder, Arizona smiled at her daughter. She ran a quick hand through black curls and ruefully added, "Sorry. It's time to get dressed."
"K," Sofia nodded solemnly, even if she glanced longingly across the room to where McKenzie and Aiden, the lone boy in the class, spun each other in circles.
Arizona and Sofia were tangled together in Sofia's long-sleeved shirt when the third room mom came over. "Hi, Dr. Robbins. Welcome to the insanity."
"Ah, yeah. Thanks," Arizona smiled, treading more lightly with this mom. She rose from her crouch and held out a hand. "Please, call me Arizona. I'm sorry. I don't think we've met?" Please say we haven't met. Please say we haven't met.
"No, we haven't met," the mom smiled back, shaking Arizona's hand. "I'm Claire, Aiden's mom. He joined the class late and I'm afraid my husband attends most of the lessons."
"Oh?" Arizona responded, her own instinctive sexism surprising her.
"Yes," Claire smiled, used to the inflection she heard in Arizona's voice. "He's staying home with the kids until our youngest is ready for school. He's a teacher," Claire explained, "I'm an architect."
"That's…great," Arizona decided. "Really."
"It works," Claire shrugged. "Anyway, Mitch is a trooper but room mom at a dance recital was a little too much to ask, even for him."
Arizona smiled and confided, "I'm with Mitch."
Claire laughed, nodding and glancing over to where two girls shrieked in a corner. "One sec," she announced, chasing the screams. When she had successfully quieted the girls, distracting them with animal cookies and crayons, she came back to Arizona, who was carefully rolling pink tights up Sofia's fidgety legs.
"Back," Claire grinned, tickling Sofia quickly and laughing when the girl's leg nudged Arizona in the stomach.
Arizona nodded in the direction of the quietly coloring girls and said, "You're a professional. Obviously."
"I am," Claire agreed on a laugh. "Aiden's the third dancer in our clan. This is not my first time."
"Third?" Arizona asked, lifting Sofia to her feet to pull up her leotard. She was grateful the dance school decided to forgo the typical toddler dance costumes, filled with terrifying layers of tulle and glitter and bows. Instead, the three year olds were dressed in standard prima donna garb: a pink leotard, white tights and a pink tutu, all topped off with a pretty, pretty crystal crown. Normally, Arizona's favorite part of the costume was the pink ribbon that's laced in a classic crisscross up the girls' ankles. Today, however, with a little girl twisting and pulling, desperate to join the fun, Arizona was convinced they were the most ridiculous accessories she'd ever seen. Glancing at Claire she huffed, "Sorry. You have three children, I mean?"
"Four," Claire grinned. "Aiden's the baby. Julie, my third? She's the soccer star."
"Oh. Soccer," Arizona practically moaned the word. "I wanted soccer. I can do soccer."
Claire laughed and leaned over to help Arizona. "Here, let me." Lifting one ribbon she told Sofia, "Hey, Sofia, show me how you spin."
Sofia giggled and readily agreed, spinning once in place while the ribbon twirled around her ankle. Lifting the other side, Claire said, "Beautiful! Now back!"
Sofia spun again, loving the game. Arizona did, too, when she saw the last of the laces were snapped together perfectly.
"I'm sorry. I called you a professional. I meant a goddess."
"Thanks," Claire smiled, "but you'll get it. Now, I think we better divide and conquer before Mrs. Michelle, room mom extraordinaire, gets mad at us."
Arizona had been in the room 20 minutes, dutifully manning the juice station (tricky because of spills but much easier than potty duty) when her phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, she pulled up Callie's text and read: 'On my way. Mark's there, saving seats. How's it going?
Arizona typed back two words in response: 'Room. Mom.'
Almost immediately her phone buzzed again. 'Multiple orgasms. Tonight.'
Well played, Calliope, Arizona smirked, tucking her phone back in her pocket and glancing down at the pigtailed ballerina tugging on her jeans. "Mrs. Michelle?" The little girl asked.
"Uh, no," Arizona smiled. "I'm Mrs. Arizona, ah, Zona," she relented.
The little girl pursed her lips for a moment, thoroughly confused, before shrugging and nodding. "Ok." Ten years from now and the word would be 'Whatever.' "Sofia drinks my juice."
Glancing at the table where her daughter was chattering in Aiden's ear, no juice box in sight, Arizona narrowed her eyes. "She drank your juice?" She questioned.
Pigtails nodded solemnly.
Arizona stepped toward Sofia and asked, "Sofia, did you drink her juice?"
"Nuh uh, Momma," Sofia shook her head.
"Ok," Arizona nodded, not too concerned about solving the juice mystery. She looked down at Pigtails and said, "Why don't we get you a new juice?"
Fully satisfied, Pigtails grinned and shook her head yes. The altercation, if you could call it that, was over until Michelle stepped over and asked, "Sofia, did you drink Madeline's juice?"
"Nope," Sofia once again denied all charges. Catching the steely look in her Momma's eye she added, "Nope, ma'am."
"Madeline says you did."
Sofia only stared at the woman, eyes slightly narrowed, while Arizona stepped up and said, "Uh, Michelle. Madeline's got a new juice. Problem solved."
"But if Sofia is drinking—" Michelle began, cutting herself off when Arizona lifted a single brow, stealing her wife's favored expression. Without another word Michelle turned and stormed away.
What is with this woman, Arizona wondered, running a hand through her hair and glancing at her watch for the, oh, hundredth time. She bent down next to Sofia's head and asked, "Where's Madeline's juice box, baby girl?"
Sofia pointed to a box of apple juice, still full, tipped over on the ground under Madeline's chair. "Mad likes grape!" Sofia announced gleefully and Arizona rolled her eyes. Scheming toddlers and a bitchy stage mom. Excellent. Brushing her lips over Sofia's cheek, Arizona added, "Let's do your hair, Sof. It's almost time to go on the big stage."
"Can't, Momma," Sofia began to whine. She covered her hair with both hands, shrugging away from Arizona's grip. The hair thing, it was common battle in the Robbins-Torres household. Arizona fought it on a regular basis. But one glance at the smug smile on Michelle's face across the room, and Arizona felt her patience slipping away. Grasping at rational-mother straws, Arizona pointed out, "Your hair's gotta be in a bun for your princess crown to fit, Sofia. Look at Kenzie's pretty crown."
Sofia glanced at her friend but continued to lean way from Arizona's ministrations. "Aiden's hair," she grumbled, frowning at the boy whose hair remained gloriously untouched.
"Yeah, well, boys have it easy," Arizona mumbled. She began to pull the brush carefully through Sofia's dark curls, initially ignoring Sofia's desperate attempts to bend and twist her head away from her Momma's hand. But when Sofia whined, "I want Mami" at the exact same time Michelle laughed (at what, Arizona didn't know) from across the room, Arizona was done with dance recitals.
"No, Momma," Sofia pleaded. "Por favor. "
Determined to appear a calm, in control mother with a naturally well-behaved daughter, especially in the face of Michelle's baffling but blatant hostility, Arizona pulled out a trick from the Moms 101 Handbook. A trick she had professed to despise and had once sworn never to use on her own child. Bribery.
Leaning close to Sofia's ear and whispering quickly, Arizona bargained, "If your hair is in a bun, with a crown, before Madeline finishes her grape juice, you'll get ice cream after the recital."
Sofia nibbled her bottom lip as she considered her Momma's offer carefully. "Strawberry?" She sniffled.
Now she wants to bargain with me. Please, let there be strawberry.
"Yes, Sofia, strawberry," Arizona promised.
Sofia's eyes brightened and she leaned her head back fully, dipping into Arizona's hands and smiling, practically upside down, while she exclaimed, "Ok! Bun, please, Momma."
"Yes, ma'am," Arizona responded, tugging her girl's ponytail lightly. Recital nightmares aside, her kid is cute. And just like that, the crisis was averted. Never mind that there was cake and ice cream already set up at Mark's apartment. Sofia's hair was in a bun and mother and daughter still loved each other. Michelle could suck it.
"Ok, girls, are you ready to dance? Are you ready to shake your booties on stage?"
Thirteen three year olds all giggled at the same time to their ballet instructor's singsong question. Arizona only moaned.
A quick glance at her watch told her that she had only been inside the room for 45 minutes. Clearly, however, her watch was broken because it felt like 45 hours since she had seen daylight. Surely it took longer than 45 minutes for Sofia to tear a run in her industrial-strength tights, Aiden to spill juice (apple, thankfully) down his pants and two unidentified girls to sign three-quarters of their names in crayon on the dressing room wall (which, by the way, occurred at Michelle's table. Not Arizona's.) Surely.
Either way, it was finally time to line up for their big debut. Sofia's half of the class would follow Mrs. Macey and enter stage left. The other half would follow Mrs. Gina, a student-assistant from the advanced classes, and enter stage right. Arizona and her fellow room moms had approximately seven minutes to sneak out the back door and find their families in the audience before the dance. Easy. Isn't that what Mrs. Macey called it?
Easy would mean Sofia and her classmates were already neatly assembled in two single file lines but, it turns out, lining up three year olds is not easy. As soon as Arizona was able to convince Madeline, of the adorable pigtails and grape juice boxes, that being first in line was really, super special and not scary at all, she turned around to discover her own daughter had snuck to the back of the line and was currently side-by-side with Aiden, holding hands.
Choosing to ignore the hand holding, even if it was crazy adorable, Arizona ordered, "Sofia Torres, get back here." Not quite the full name but still, not kidding around. Sofia obeyed her Momma immediately but she didn't even pretend to hurry her way back so she was only half way up the line when Mrs. Macey asked, "Everyone ready?"
"Not everyone Mrs. Macey," came Michelle's voice from the back. "We've got a few girls who haven't quite settled in line yet."
Grasping Sofia's arm and pulling the girl (gently) the rest of the way into her spot, and flicking a quick glare in Michelle's direction, Arizona muttered, "Everyone's in line, Mrs. Macey. Ready to go." Bending down next to Sofia and tipping the girl's face up with a fingertip under her chin, Arizona smiled. "You are a beautiful ballerina princess, baby girl. Mami and Daddy and Momma can't wait to see you dance so pretty on the stage."
"By Aiden?' She asked hopefully, clearly caught in a small case of her Mami's stage fright. "And Kenzie?"
"Aiden and McKenzie'll be right behind you, Sof. I already told Mami and Daddy that you were dancing next to Madeline. How will they find you if you move?"
Sofia lifted her shoulders and giggled through her shrug. Arizona bent to press quick kisses against the girl's scrunched neck, intensifying the giggles and dissipating the majority of the nerves. She was pulling back when she heard Michelle announce, "We don't want to be late, Moms."
Grr.
"Ok." Arizona dropped one more kiss against Sofia's lips and said, "Love you, baby girl." Addressing all the kids, she waved as they walked past. "Have fun, ballerinas." Leaning over, she whispered to Claire when she stepped beside Arizona, "That woman hates me."
Arizona expected confusion or, at least, denial. What she got instead was a whispered casual reply, "Oh, yeah."
Whipping her head around, Arizona gaped at the smiling woman. "What? Why?"
Surprised, and a tad embarrassed by her automatic agreement, Claire sputtered, "Oh. No. She doesn't hate you. Just, ah—well, because of the position thing."
Arizona, baffled, squinted at Claire and repeated, "The position thing?"
"Yeah. You know, Sofia has to call out the positions to the girls at the end of the routine? Like a little mini-teacher. Mitch says it's adorable, actually."
Ok, Arizona thought, I know about this. Sofia was mildly excited about her minor, very minor, speaking role. A cute bit added to the end of the girls' performance where Sofia calls out the five ballet positions and the dancers follow suit. But that still didn't explain Michelle's hostility. "I still don't understand." An appalling thought struck Arizona. "Has Sofia been, ah, bragging or something?" Please don't let me have a secretly bitchy child. Please. "You know, driving everyone crazy?"
"What? Oh, no. No," Claire assured Arizona, patting the blonde's arm softly. "Trust me, Mitch has excellent kid-bitch radar. I would have heard."
"Oh, good," Arizona sighed, smiling gratefully. "Kid-bitch," she laughed, "that's exactly what I was afraid of."
"I bet," Claire nodded. "No one wants to find out they are raising one of those. But no, not Sofia. Sofia's sweet; Aiden adores her."
"I'm pretty sure that feeling is mutual," Arizona confided. "They were holding hands in line a minute ago."
Claire smiled ruefully. "Yep, saw that. Baby romance?"
"Maybe," Arizona grinned at the thought, desperate to tell Callie about it. "She's got good taste."
"Ha. Thanks. And back at you."
Holding the back door open for Claire, Arizona realized they had wandered off topic and she still wanted to figure out Michelle's issue before she and Claire reached their respective seats. "So, anyway, Michelle?"
"Oh, right! Yeah, well, she wanted Katie to get the part, of course. Sofia got it. In scary stage mom world, that translates into hating you."
Arizona stopped mid-stride and whipped out a hand to pull Claire to a similar pause. "Wait. You are kidding me, right?"
Claire shook her head, laughing lightly at Arizona's obvious shock.
"That's…That's…That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"Welcome to dance recitals," Claire murmured, smirking.
"God. I am researching the soccer schedule tonight, I promise you. "
"Oh, you poor rookie," Claire giggled. "Soccer moms are no better than stage moms. Just…noisier. And sweaty."
Laughing at her new friend and resuming their walk, Arizona shook her head. "Parenting is full of unexpected surprises. Is it wrong that I am now seriously hoping Sofia kicks ass at her little speaking role?"
"Nope," Claire bubbled. "I'm hoping for a little ass kicking myself."
"Good. Thanks. You're so calm; so used to this. Want to be my new best friend?"
Claire laughed out loud, enjoying Arizona's plea.
"Don't laugh, I'm serious. My current best friend, she's…useless. Completely. She's a cardiologist with man problems. Absolutely no help when it comes to dance recitals and baby jealousy. I'm a pediatrician for God's sake but I am completely out of my league with non-terrified parental units. They're…vicious. And now! Calliope's going to have our second and I haven't figured out how to handle one! I need a wingman. I'll ditch Teddy if you'll agree to be my new best friend."
Laughing again, and a bit overwhelmed by Arizona's rapid-fire speech, Claire shrugged. "Let's not ditch the cardiologist yet. She may need help with all those man problems. But, sure, I'll be your best mom-friend. Absolutely. Kid-free drinks after work next week?"
"Done," Arizona agreed readily. "Thanks. Oh, I think I see Callie and Sofia's dad." Glancing at the stage, Arizona's saw a swarm of mini bumblebees. "Are we after the bees?"
"No," Claire shook her head. "There are pre-teen vamps next. My Alyssa's one of them. Then we're up."
"Oh. See, I need you already," Arizona beamed. "Ok, I'm going to grab my seat, let you get to yours so you can watch your daughter." When Claire turned to head down a different aisle, Arizona whispered through the dark theatre, "Claire? Thanks for keeping me sane."
"Hey, baby," Callie beamed, whisper-shouting over the dramatic Twilight theme song blaring through the theatres speakers. "How'd it go?"
"Soccer," Arizona answered, ducking over to press a quick kiss to Callie's lips pursed lips. "Please," she begged.
"That bad?" Callie asked, trying her best to hold back the laugh bubbling in her throat.
Arizona only stared sideways at her obviously-entertained wife. Leaning forward she murmured, "Hey Mark."
"Blondie," Mark nodded. "Sofie-girl nervous?"
"A little," Arizona admitted, linking her hand with Callie's over Cal's extended belly. "She wanted to stand by her friends but I think she'll be fine." Gushing despite herself, Arizona smiled at her wife and said, "She's so cute, Cal, our ballerina princess. We used the pink lip-gloss you sent. She loved it."
"Yeah?" Callie smiled, excited to see her daughter on stage.
"Definitely. Oh, and Mark?"
"Yep?"
"She told me how you came to daycare at lunchtime. Practiced some moves with her in an on-call room."
"Wait?" Callie's head swiveled from the stage to gape at Mark. "Seriously?"
Mark stubbornly stared forward, unblinking.
"Yes," Arizona nodded at her wife, automatically chasing the baby kicks she felt beating under their joined hands. Leaning closer to Mark she added, "We're going to demand an encore after the show. I, for one, cannot wait to see you in fourth position."
She was saved from whatever smart-ass reply Mark had planned when a huffing, sighing Cristina Yang flopped in the empty chair beside her.
"Yang?" Arizona asked, her eyes bulging. She had hoped Teddy would make the show; even guessed Bailey might sneak in. But Cristina Yang?
Ignoring Arizona entirely, Cristina leaned over the blonde's lap and pinched Callie.
"Ouch! Cristina—"
"Did you know there's no booze in this place, Torres? Fifteen minutes in a concession line and the pimply punk behind the counter tells me 'Sodas only, ma'am.' Dance recitals suck."
"You tried to order liquor?" Callie asked incredulously. "It's a show for children, Cristina."
"All the more reason to sell booze."
"Cristina?" Arizona asked again, still not over the resident's presence, much less her attempts to buy alcohol.
"Roller girl?" Cristina intoned back.
"You're…at a dance recital."
Cristina rolled her eyes but she nodded in perfect accord with Arizona's disbelief. "Owen says godmothers come to crap like this." Tapping her chest she continued, "Godmother. Here. Whatever."
Arizona was prepared to respond but Callie interrupted her. "Shhhh," the brunette hissed. "They're about to start."
Squeezing Callie's hand with more force, and more nerves, than she was prepared for, Arizona watched the class prance, and occasionally skip, onto the stage. She breathed a quiet, "Oh," when Sofia bounced into view. "Do you think she can see us?" Arizona asked, giggling when she heard Mark's loud whistle. "I don't think she can see us."
"No," Mark answered, leaning towards Arizona and sharing a proud grin, "but she sees someone. Look at her waving up there."
Sure enough, Sofia was waving at someone, eventually blowing the mystery audience an outlandish kiss.
Look at our baby girl!" Callie squealed. She squeezed Arizona's hand right back and smacked Mark on the arm. "Look at her!"
"That kid is freaking cute," Cristina agreed. Realizing what she said, she glanced sideways at Arizona and added, "Repeat that and I'll tell Torres about the Peds nurse with the crush."
Arizona blinked once before nodding and focusing on her daughter. "She's good," Arizona announced, watching as their little girl dutifully worked through her number's steps. "She's a ballerina," Arizona swooned.
Callie leaned into her wife, snuggling in against her arm so they could swoon about their daughter together. "Who wants soccer now?" She whispered proudly.
"Mmm. Shush," Arizona responded but she squeezed their joined hands together again, still resting on Callie's baby…well, mountain.
For the next minute and thirty seconds, no one spoke a word. They merely sat and watched, like proud parents. Hell, like a proud family, all four of them. When it came time for Sofia's big speaking part, the part that struck envy in the hearts of stage moms everywhere, Arizona's nails dug into Callie's palm.
"Come on, baby girl," Arizona murmured under her breath. "You got this."
Loud and clear, Sofia's voice rang out. "First position." There was only a minimum of giggles as her classmates followed her instruction.
"Second position." More giggles, but mainly because pigtailed Madeline took a small stumble shifting her feet into position.
"Third position," Sofia announced and Arizona's grip on Callie's hand relaxed. Baby girl was rocking that stage.
Until, of course, the entire crowd heard her stomp her feet and exclaim, "Kenzie, third position!" It seemed McKenzie had decided waving to her Mommy was more fun than taking orders from her best friend. And Sofia, of course, was having none of that.
Listening to the entire crowd, including her indulgent wife, laugh at (or was it with?) her daughter, Arizona couldn't help but smile. Michelle may think she won this round, but Cristina was right. That kid is freakin' cute.
Arizona lifted Callie's hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "She's got too much of her Mami," Arizona smiled. "Look at all that fire and foot stomping."
"Me?" Callie retorted. "She's admonishing someone for breaking the rules. That's all you, Ms. Manners. Besides, she's on a stage! I wouldn't be able to talk right now."
Arizona laughed, kissing the back of Callie's hand again. "True, true."
They all laughed again when Sofia finally glanced heavenward, shook her head once, firmly, and announced loudly, if resignedly, "Fourth position!"
"See," Callie whispered against her wife's ears. "She's you."
The number was over and Arizona was still basking in her daughter's adorableness when Callie nudged her in the side with an elbow. "Uh, babe, don't you have to go?"
"Go?" Arizona asked, turning towards her wife. "Go where?"
"Back to the dressing room. You know, room mom detail?"
"Oh no. Uh uh," Arizona shook her head. "No way. You're going."
"Arizona—"
"Do not 'Arizona' me," Arizona interrupted, ignoring Mark's snicker. "It's your turn."
"Ari—Honey," Callie amended, "the kids know you. They are expecting you. They are going to be wound up back there. They need some…normalcy," Callie reasoned.
"Oh, God. You said 'wound up.' Was this afternoon supposed to be not wound up?"
"Arizona."
"Uggh," Arizona moaned, lightly smacking her wife's leg. "Do I hafta?"
"You know you do, babe."
"But Calliope, that woman hates me."
"Who—Oh," Callie nodded. "Michelle, Mrs. My Kid's the Best Dancer in the Class?"
"Yes!" Arizona exclaimed, smacking the leg again. "She's mean!"
"Mean," Cristina laughed and snickered, "Peds."
"Seriously, Yang, this woman is jealous because Sofia got a special part tonight and her daughter didn't."
"Wait. The lady's talking crap about Sof? Who is she? Point her out."
When Mark joined Cristina searching the crowd for the woman who dared to look cross-eyed at their favorite girl, Callie sighed. "Calm down, all of you. The woman's a bitch, but there's one in every crowd. Sofia'll be a better kid for learning to spot a woman like that early on. And you," she continued, kissing Arizona's neck, "will be a better mom for dealing with it." Lowering her voice she added, "But if the bitch is mean to either of my girls, you have my permission to go all Marine-style playground on her ass."
That earned Callie a quick grin. "Thanks," Arizona replied, smacking both hands against her own legs once before forcing herself to her feet. "Ok. I'm going back there. But you owe me for this, big time," Arizona added, pointing at her wife.
"Uh," Callie rubbed two hands over her extended stomach and said, "97 pounds of Robbins baby right here. Why don't we consider ourselves even?"
"Deal," Arizona smiled, "but you can't use the pregnancy card ever again, got it?"
"Yeah, because 3 hours as a dance review room mom is equal to nine months of bloated ankles."
"Totally is," Arizona agreed blithely. Leaning over she pressed a quick kiss to Callie's stomach, giggling when the baby reacted to the pressure by kicking her lips. "This one is playing soccer," Arizona announced definitively. "End of discussion."
"Hey!" Callie disagreed. "If our son wants to dance, he'll dance, damnit."
Our son. Two words and all the dread in Arizona's body was drowned out by joy. They were having a boy; Sofia would get the brother she requested. Room mom duty was worth this single moment alone.
Glancing around when the lights dimmed for the next performance, Arizona kissed Callie's stomach one last time and waved to her friends, hurrying back to Room B.
She opened the door to bedlam again but this time it was a different sort. Moms, dads and the occasional grandma, too desperate to wait, crowded the room and showered their child in breathless adoration. Though it was technically against the rules to invade the dressing rooms in the middle of the show like this, Arizona could tell from Claire's fond expression that such an occurrence was normal.
Seeking out her daughter, Arizona spotted Sofia with McKenzie (rule breaking apparently forgotten) and Aiden in a corner by the radio. All three were dancing it out to Adele's Rolling in the Deep, their tiny bottoms rocking in relative time with the beat and their heads shaking with such force that neither girl's bun survived the mayhem.
Arizona was striding towards her daughter, fully prepared to jump right in, when Michelle stepped in front of her path.
"That was a precious moment Sofia had on stage," Michelle purred, her voice indicating she saw nothing precious about Sofia's small break in protocol. "Every year there's one child who just…steals the show," she smiled oh-so-politely.
Aiming for the high road, Arizona decided to take Michelle's words at face value so she simply nodded and smiled. "Yep," she replied. "Thank you."
Blinking at Arizona's gratitude, uncertain how sincere the blonde was, Michelle nodded slowly. "Of course, I wonder what McKenzie's parents thought about it."
Oh, you bitch. Assuming her most blinding smile, Arizona responded, "I'll have to ask Annabeth, McKenzie's mom. We work together, you see. Both busy doctors, of course, but I'm sure we can find time to chat about our girls. After all, Annabeth and Kenzie will both be at Sofia's father's home tonight for cake and ice cream. It turns out, even doctors can make time to celebrate when their daughter is the star of a show," Arizona explained, emphasizing the word star obviously and, yes, a tad bitchily.
Understanding Arizona's message, loud and clear, Michelle's breath hitched as she prepared to respond but Arizona simply smiled at the woman and, without another word, walked away. She was two steps away from sweeping her mini-star up in a twirling, spinning hug, when Claire saddled next to her and linked their arms together.
"You're wrong," Claire announced.
Lifting both brows at her new friend, Arizona waited for the mom to explain.
"You don't need a wing man. And you definitely don't need to worry about handling baby number two. You just graduated to professional mom status."
