Title: Pride

Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: PG-13 for a couple bad words, but nothing crazy
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Shondaland. I'm just playing!
Summary: Post-9x06 ficlet.

Pride

Callie's hand twisting the knob of the door to her apartment is surprisingly steady. She mentally lauds herself for her poise and confidence. And juggling skills. Turning so that she is opening the door with her back, she pulls Sofia's stroller through the door, her purse and a bag of Chinese take-out slung over the forearm of her other arm.

"We're home!" Callie calls through the apartment. She is unsurprised to find Arizona sitting in the living room, staring absentmindedly at the TV in front of her, her prosthesis leaning up against the side of the couch. Arizona looks up slowly as if turning her head just a few degrees is the hardest thing she's ever done. "I brought Chinese. I got chicken lo mein for you, and yes, I asked for it without MSG," Callie continues, not allowing Arizona to interrupt.

Truly, she could not care less how Arizona treats her tonight; she's too damn thrilled that Arizona was even at the hospital to care. She waited. For nearly an hour and a half, she waited for Arizona to finish excitedly telling Bailey all of her theories on the case. Callie had wanted nothing more than to pick up Sofia from day care, go home, cook for her two girls, and snuggle on the couch afterwards with her incredibly brave wife. But instead she waited, wanting to give Arizona time and wanting her to arrive home first, in case she wanted to pretend that she had been in the apartment all day.

"Oh, great," Arizona says as pleasantly as she can. She kneads at her left leg and grimaces when she realizes she may have overdone it today. "I could go for some lo mein."

Callie beams. This is easily one of the most pleasant conversations (if one can even call it that) they've had since the amputation. "How was your day?" Callie dares.

Arizona laughs a sardonic little chortle and sends Callie a pointed stare.

"What's so funny?" Callie tries to maintain her innocence.

"Callie," Arizona chastises lightly, "we work at Seattle Grace Mercy West Gossip Center. I know you know I was there."

Callie just sort of stares at her and is eminently grateful when Sofia decides she is hungry and needs to announce it to her mommies. After unbuckling Sofia's straps, Callie picks her daughter up out of her stroller and bounces her on her hip while she puts a bottle of milk in the microwave.

"It's okay, Callie," Arizona says, ending Callie's internal torture. "Thank you for not making a big deal out of it."

"I just…I want you to know that it wasn't my idea. Not that I didn't love that you came in…but I just…it wasn't me." Callie is both apologetic and defensive, an odd combination, but one that comes with walking on eggshells.

"I broke a vase today, that red one you like," Arizona says as Callie puts Sofia down in her play pen. She doesn't apologize, because she doesn't feel like she should. This happened to her, so by her logic, the universe had it coming for that vase and it really had nothing to do with her.

"Just a vase," Callie shrugs. "We were going to need to move it soon, anyway, since this little monkey is quite the climber!" Callie finishes, reaching down in the playpen to tickle Sofia's belly, making the toddler giggle in delight.

"Well I guess it means we're even then."

"Even?" Callie asks, only partly wanting to know what she's done wrong this time.

"Yeah, I won't apologize for breaking the vase if you don't apologize for spying on me today."

Callie tentatively walks towards the couch, two containers of Chinese food and two chopstick sets in her hands. She puts the containers on the folding dinner tables in the living room and awkwardly sits on the other side of the couch from Arizona.

"I wasn't…I didn't…it's just that I was there when you happened to come in. And Bailey thought…"

"I just said no apologizing, Callie," Arizona says softly, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards into an almost imperceptible smile. "I would have done the same."

Arizona picks up her lo mein and shovels a hefty bite into her mouth with the chopsticks, signifying that the conversation is over for now. "American Bake-Off?" Arizona asks around her mouthful.

Callie groans. "Again? Is this show on every day of the week?"

"Nope, DVR'ed it," Arizona replied with an impish smile. "And you better believe that when I can stand still on this leg for more than half an hour at a time, I will be trying every recipe."

"I'm going to be 300 pounds by the end of the year," Callie laments teasingly. There are tears in her eyes and she wants to say that she doesn't care if their apartment turns into a bakery, but she knows the banter is safer, and her proud and dignified wife does not need her sentimentality right now.

"Who said you get to eat it?"

"I have a right to my wife's baked goods."

Arizona laughs genuinely at her dorky wife. "We'll see about that."

They both know that they need to talk. There are serious things that need to be discussed, apologies that need to be made, decisions to be made about weeks, months, years from now. But for now, they are content to banter over their TV dinner, Callie not saying how proud she is of Arizona for what she did today, and Arizona not saying how appreciative she is that Callie still cared enough for her to watch from outside the room.