AN: The characters and Grey's Anatomy do not belong to me.
WARNING: This fiction contains an explicit/MA level sex scene. Please do not read if you are not of age or offended by consensual sex.
Summary: Set late season 7/early season 8. Arizona is particularly effected by a paediatric death.
Arizona walked slowly out of the operating room, focussing on drawing in long, even breaths. She discarded her scrub cap to the floor; she was done with the butterflies.
They'll put pictures of butterflies and fairies on her coffin - her tiny white coffin.
Maybe she was done with this job, this place. She had fantasies of picking grapes in France, making champagne for a living and spending lazy mornings drinking coffee and eating pastries. She wanted a job where she wasn't the angel of death, where she didn't have to absorb the indescribable grief of bereaved parents. And at that moment, walking towards the next set of parents to be left childless, she hated everything about being a paediatric surgeon. Everything.
They stood as she approached and she nodded before indicating for them to sit back in their chairs. Not that she thought it mattered; chair or no chair, their daughter was dead. How insignificant to wish them physical comfort when she was about to single handily destroy them. "I'm Arizona Robbins," she began slowly, forcing her tone to remain even and her articulation clear. They nodded at her, patiently absorbing her pleasantries, though their interest was not in her name or position. "And you are?" she enquired gently to the two women, hands clasped, sitting trembling in front of her.
They stumbled over their words, eyes filled with tears. "We're ah, her ummm, parents," one of the women explained hesitantly.
"Five years of IVF," the other added, "but she was worth every minute." They pressed their foreheads together and shook in unison. "She's gone, isn't she?"
It's the caterpillars that are really beautiful. Butterflies are just the beginning of the end. Why aren't there more caterpillars on caskets? Tiny, white coffins holding tiny, little girls.
Arizona nodded slowly and their guttural cries pierced at her eardrums and made tears prick at the corner of her eyes. "I'm sorry," she offered, "there was too much bleeding. We just couldn't keep her heart going." She wanted to explain, to justify the inadequacy she was feeling – the car was going to fast, her internal injuries too severe. She was one of the best surgeons and she couldn't save her, no one could have.
"We want to see her…" The words were gasped out and a hand had found its way to grip at her scrubs sleeve.
"Of course," Arizona responded, slowly standing. "I'll take you through and you can spend some time. Any questions, please, just ask."
She led them slowly towards a recovery room, where theatre staff would have transferred the patient. It was a quiet place for family to say their goodbyes, to hold the hands of their children for the very last time. It had a curtain for privacy, because when your five-year-old daughter dies, a blue hospital curtain makes all the difference.
Just like her words, nothing else matters when the death arrives. Their attempts are simply superficial, all their processes and procedures, they make the staff feel better. Comforted. God, she hated everything about this day.
"She didn't want to go to school today, she wanted to stay home with us. We had a day off." The words sounded tortured, each syllable grated through a contracted throat.
Arizona nodded, glancing behind her and meeting their eyes. She had to wipe away a tear instantaneously; she needed a break. She needed to hide in a bathroom cubicle for a few minutes and discard the emotion that was blanketing down on her. "Children are like that," she offered weakly.
"We should have let her stay at home, why didn't we? If we had, she would be okay. We would be making pancakes or cupcakes."
"You send your daughter to school, like always, you don't expect it will end this way."
You send a child to school, to dance practice, to daycare. You don't expect them to come back in a tiny coffin.
The hand still gripped her scrubs, a bundle of blue material held in a shaking hand. Arizona stopped at the curtain and reached to slip her hand in their place. She offered a few brief pieces of information, how their little girl would look, as if the preparation would make a difference. She opened the door and led them in.
They dissolved, folding their bodies in half until their faces pressed into their own thighs. Crying. Sobbing. Muttering words and sentences that didn't make sense. Minutes passed and Arizona stood quietly, a silent witness to unspeakable anguish. Each time she tried to take herself elsewhere, to dissociate in a sense, she would be drawn back. Focussing on the wall clock, watching and counting the second hand, but it couldn't drown out the sound of air being gasped. She thought about the dinner that Calliope would be preparing her in a few hours, but the grip on her hand, the crushing of her knuckles, brought her back to the death in the bed and the grief by the door.
They started asking her suddenly, repeating over and over that they wanted to hold their child. Arizona's pulse raced, her heart pounded in her chest; why did she possibly insist on being the one that supported bereaved parents. She thought it was important that she was human and accessible. She didn't want to be one of those surgeons that came in and out and never knew the name of the child they saved or didn't save. She wanted to know the child that she sent to the morgue and the families that would bury them. Not that Arizona would admit it, but it made her the best. It was the difference that made her the very best.
Other surgeons didn't dream of tiny coffins.
She led the women to two vinyl chairs sitting against the wall and nodded to them. She closed her eyes and walked to the bed, grating her hip on the metal corner before forcing her eyelids open. She stared for the first time, at the small girl in the bed. She was so pale; almost the colour of the harsh white sheets and Arizona didn't want to touch her. She didn't want to hold death in her arms; it was bad enough that her hands, just an hour ago, had been inside of her. Holding her organs, fighting through the blood to clamp anything and everything that was perforated. Trying desperately to keep her alive long enough to start fixing what was so terribly broken. Now, she was slipping her hands under the child and wrapping the sheet around her exposed skin. She carefully cradled her in her arms, resting her heavy head against her chest. She swallowed the glue in her throat, she wouldn't cry.
She laid the girl in her mothers' arms and stepped back, they enveloped their child. Protectively cradling her between them as they made their sorrowful declarations of guilt and love. They asked for forgiveness. They asked their dead child to excuse their normality, for not foreseeing the impossible.
For Arizona, the scene was overwhelming. It was suddenly Sophia, in just a few short years, her limp body held shamefully between her and Callie. Their failure, her failure, lay stationary across their laps. She teetered on the edge of control and she needed out – out of this room and this hospital.
Sophia's tiny, white, butterfly covered coffin wouldn't follow her outside.
She whispered a few words, explaining that she would give them time and space. To see the staff outside if they needed anything, anything at all.
Then she left. Walking at first and gradually getting quicker; and when the lifts halted her progress, she jogged down the stairs. She heard her name called a few times as she rushed past friends and colleagues, but she waved them away. Dismissed them. She knew what they would do; they would page Callie, pull her out of whatever orthopaedic crisis was holding her attention. Explain that they had seen Arizona, running out of the hospital in a flood of tears. Interns would be speculating, laughing at the Attending who had lost her objectivity. The Residents would be talking in hushed whispers, paging friends in theatre and Paediatrics to find out the gossip. Some would empathise with her; some would criticise her inability to mend the injury; others would seek her out later, offer to meet her for a drink or just stand next to her and nod their understanding. The Attendings, they would let her go – most of them had been there.
Callie would come and awkwardly try to support her but the truth was, she struggled to conceptualise. She saw amputated limbs and deformed bones, but she didn't see coffins. Her patients didn't leave the hospital in body bags, those thick black bags that came in boxes of fifty. As an Intern, she was fascinated to learn that deceased patients were wheeled on their beds to the morgue with an oxygen mask on. They didn't want other patients to know that someone had died.
"Arizona," Callie muttered her name in a rush of exhaled air. "I am so sorry."
Arizona just shook her head, staring out towards the foliage from their favourite bench towards the outskirts of the hospital grounds. "You didn't need to come," she responded.
"Lexie paged me, it just sounds awful. What happened to that little girl, it's awful."
Arizona nodded. "Yeah."
"What do you need?" Callie asked softly, running her hand down Arizona's forearm and slipping her hand into hers and squeezing it tightly. Arizona squeezed her eyes shut at the sensation, the same hand the heartbroken mother had gripped so desperately.
"I'm okay," Arizona responded quietly, drawing her hand away and resting it, palm down on Callie's thigh. "I just needed a few minutes."
Reaching beside her, Callie rested her arm on the back of the chair and gently toyed with Arizona's hair, rhythmically running her fingers through her ponytail. Arizona breathed slowly, eyes closed, her hand at times clutching at Callie's thigh before releasing without explanation. Fighting the thoughts racing around in her mind. "I have to go back," Arizona muttered eventually.
"Are you almost finished? I want to take you home, put Sophia to bed and then give you the best cuddles you've ever had," Callie stated with a grin, pressing a kiss to Arizona's temple.
Sophia's tiny, white coffin; caterpillars become butterflies.
Arizona physically shook away the images and said softly, "Yeah. Just have to do the death cert."
Callie was taken aback by the tortured look on Arizona's face; she was being so guarded. "Do you need to see the family again?" Arizona simply shrugged, her expression frozen in a mix of fear and desperation. "It's just, I'm free so I can go with you, if you want someone there. A bit random, I know, but hey, there has to be some perks to having your wife work in the same hospital."
"I'm okay, thanks. The nurses can direct the parents out when they're done. Can you wait for me though? I just want to finish and go home."
Callie nodded, dipping her head again to press a kiss to Arizona's cheek. "You sure you're okay?" she asked gently, tugging playfully on Arizona's hair. "I know these cases can be hard on you, so it's alright if you're not."
Arizona shrugged; it was scary sometimes, to think how well Calliope knew her, even the things she never talked about, Callie seemed to know. The shrug was enough of an answer and Callie nodded, smiled and stood, reaching out her hands to pull Arizona to her feet. She found her hand and slowly walked them back towards the hospital.
There are no butterflies on body bags.
"Not hungry or did I accidently add sugar instead of salt?" Callie asked softly, smiling across the table.
Arizona offered a sad smile back to her and replied, "No, sorry. It's fine. I'm just not very hungry. Sorry."
Rolling her eyes, Callie stood and took both of their plates to the kitchen, tossing them into the sink. "The dishes can wait until tomorrow," she said over her shoulder. "Anything else you feel like? There's chocolate and another bottle of wine in the fridge."
"No, I'm good, thanks."
"Alright then, well, since Sophia is asleep and hasn't woken up through the night in weeks, I'm voting for a relaxing bath and then an early night. What do you think?"
"Go for it, I'll have a shower after you're done."
Callie laughed lightly. "You may have missed the message that you were included as part of that plan."
Arizona smiled weakly again. "Vanilla bath salts?"
"Only because I love you," Callie answered with a nod and for the second time that day, took Arizona's hand, leading her this time to the bathroom.
Declarations of love to the death in the tiny coffin.
Adjusting the faucets, Callie lowered herself into the bath, leaving the water to fill a little higher as Arizona slowly undressed in front of her. She stared in admiration, the smooth skin being progressively exposed; toned muscles and full breasts. The only thing missing was Arizona's usual smile and laugh lines, the light dialogue that was constantly exchanged between the two; the easy banter that characterised their comfortable relationship. "Come on," Callie instructed, "it's warm and very 'vanillary' from in here."
"I'm not sure 'vanillary' is a word, Calliope," Arizona said, trying to engage in some light conversation. She knew she had withdrawn that evening, lost in her own thoughts and Callie was being so patient and gentle with her. She stepped slowly into the water, the temperature just as she liked it. Callie reached up and placed her hands on Arizona's hips, guiding her to sit between her legs and tugging at her shoulders until she relaxed back into her. "Now this is a nice," she whispered.
"Mmmm," Callie muttered with a nod, kissing the back of Arizona's head and kneading her thumbs into her neck. "You're all tight and knotted."
"Nothing a massage won't fix."
Callie continued to work her fingers into Arizona's muscles, slowly loosening them. Arizona sat motionless, hands unmoving on Callie's knees that shadowed her thighs. "You're so sad today, Arizona," she eventually whispered through the mass of blond hair.
Arizona nodded, feeling the familiar swell of emotion from the afternoon tightening her chest and throat. "Some cases are harder than others, yeah?"
"Oh yeah, definitely."
"I'm so grateful to have you."
Callie smiled. "Always," she said softly, "You, me and Sophia – always."
Always is forever, and forever ends in coffins. Butterflies are the beginning of the end."
Tears trickled silently down her cheeks, unnoticed by Callie, softly trailing the pads of her fingers up and down Arizona's arms. "You want to tell me what made this one harder?" Callie asked quietly.
Arizona shuddered slightly and Callie tipped her head forward and took in the tearful image, eyes closed and cheeks wet. She ran her palms down Arizona's arms again, reaching to connect their hands and hugging them to Arizona's chest, holding her tightly. "She was just a little girl."
Callie nodded, her thumb stroking the soft skin of Arizona's abdomen. "How old was she?"
"Five."
"And she was hit by a car?"
Arizona nodded. "Outside of the school, she was in first grade."
"That's terrible, you know. You pack your kid up to go to school and they don't come home. Such a normal day that ends just…I don't know what I would do."
"A coffin," Arizona whispered, not really intending her thought to be audible.
"What?" Callie questioned, having heard the word but wanting Arizona to talk. She had heard the muttered words during her nightmares, coffins and butterflies, but she was never willing to talk about it when she woke. She always said it was just part of the job, a crappy consequence of a wonderful job.
"It ends with a coffin," Arizona explained, her voice strained and head pushing back into Callie's collarbone. "How do you send your kid to school and then have it end with a body bag and a coffin? I took away their little girl and put her in a body bag."
Callie tightened her grip, biceps tensing as she held on as if trying to contain the horror and emotion that Arizona was emitting. "You didn't do anything, Arizona. You tried to save her."
"But I didn't. And I don't know if I can do it anymore." She was shaking slightly, and turning her head to the side she pushed her cheek into the nape of Callie's neck. "It's too hard."
"You are so good at what you do, so good. And I get that it's hard, I don't know if I could do it."
"I had to lift her Calliope. I had to lift her dead body and place her in her mothers' arms. They did five years of IVF and it ended with them holding their dead little girl."
"Oh God," Callie said with a gasp. "You shouldn't have had to do that alone."
"But that's my job, that's who I choose to be as a surgeon. But it's too hard. I just can't put a tiny, beautiful little girl in the arms of this lovely couple, these two women that could be us. I can't do it anymore, not now."
Callie let silence drift over them for a few minutes, tightly holding Arizona as she softly cried into her chest. "Odds are, that won't be us," she eventually said softly. "What we see, is worst case scenario. This whole world happens out there, that we don't see. Children climb trees and fall out, then they laugh. They run across the street to get their ball and then throw it back with a high pitched squeal. We see a warped world Arizona, and it sucks. It really does, but it's warped."
They go to school and then leave in a tiny, white coffin.
"Don't be mad," Arizona whispered, squeezing Callie's hands.
Callie shook her head in confusion. "Why would I possibly be mad?"
Arizona sighed heavily, closing her eyes and murmuring, "I see Sophia in a tiny tiny, white coffin. I keep seeing her."
Tears welled in Callie's eyes and she shifted slightly to press her lips to Arizona's forehead. "Sweetie…" she trailed off, lost for words. How do you respond?
"I'm sorry," Arizona offered.
"Don't. Don't you dare. I love you, I love you so much and I know that you're scared. I know that your job makes it worse. But Arizona, I see them too. For different reasons, I'm so scared we'll lose her and that's normal. That's being a mother."
"You see them too?"
"Maybe not like you, but in my own way. I call next of kin, and I imagine getting that phone call. I hold Sophia in my arms and I think that if I hold her forever than she'll be safe. And I know that's okay, that's normal. We're good parents because we want to make sure nothing happens to her."
"Sometimes, things happen that we can't control. We can't protect her."
"Exactly," Callie said softly, "We can't control so much."
Arizona smiled slightly, "I'm not good at not being in control."
"No, no you're not," Callie agreed, releasing Arizona's hands to run over her hair and shoulders. "But I do love you – the you that's in control and the you that isn't."
"Can I ask you something?"
"No," Callie responded light-heartedly, laughing. "Of course, you don't have to ask."
Arizona drew in a deep, even breath; her cheeks stained with tears and her eyes glassy but dry. "Would you maybe come see someone with me? Like a therapist."
Callie nodded immediately. "Absolutely – we could go to my old therapist, she's awesome."
Arizona lifted her body slightly, turning her head. "You had counselling?" Callie nodded, smiling. "You surprise me so much sometimes."
"How do you think I became such a well adjusted and competent adult?"
Arizona smiled, "I love you," she said, shaking her head in admiration. "You're so much more mature than I am."
"Yes. I definitely am," Callie joked, tilting her head to meet Arizona's lips in a tender kiss. "And you're, you're so beautiful. Even when you've been crying, you're still just stunning."
Arizona responded by rolling her eyes and seeking her mouth again, using her tongue to explore the inside of Callie's lower lip. They continued to kiss, slowly increasing the intensity, tongues darting in and out and lips being softly sucked on. They broke apart breathlessly, Arizona relaxing back and resting her cheek against Callie's shoulder. She slowly moved her hand through the water, trailing up Callie's abdomen until her fingers softly touched the underside of her breast. She intently ran her finger tips in large circles at first, working her way around Callie's breast, slowly working her way towards her nipple. She eventually brushed her fingers lightly over the already erect centre, eliciting a low moan from Callie. "Mmmm, you like that Calliope?"
Callie smiled, her own hands running up and down Arizona's side, from her hip to the sensitive area under her arm. "I like it a lot," Callie responded, "I hope you're not thinking of stopping."
"Not in my plan," Arizona said huskily, her eyes losing some of the cloudy emotion, pupils dilating with arousal in replacement. She continued to work her fingers over Callie's breast, using her forefinger and thumb to pinch at her nipple and flick back and forth. She manoeuvred to press her open mouth to her other breast, using her tongue to run tight circles over her areola.
"So good," Callie gasped, slipping her hand under Arizona's arm to seek out her chest. She found the desired destination, roughly squeezing, frustrated by the awkward positioning. "Maybe we should move to the bedroom."
Arizona shook her head quickly. "I like it here. I like you, covered in soapy water. You're hot."
"So are you, and you're making me very…well, hot."
"Good," Arizona responded, moving to sit up slightly giving Callie a moment to eagerly run her hands all over her back. She slipped both hands under Arizona's arms, running her palms over each of her nipples. "Ohh," Arizona gasped in surprise, reaching towards the bottle of bath oil and filling her hand. She crouched slightly, spinning her body to sit facing Callie, legs draped over hers. Callie moved forward and Arizona hooked her feet tightly around her hips. "Now that's better," she stated, her voice deep. Rubbing her hands together she reached again to focus on Callie's breasts, her hands sliding warmly over them.
Callie moaned again, her mouth slightly open as she took some quick breaths. "You need to give me some of that."
"Mmm, only if you intend on using it on me," Arizona muttered, oozing arousal as she brought the bottle to fill Callie's hand.
Callie mimicked Arizona's actions, as they both kneaded each other's breasts. "God, that is good," Arizona gasped.
"What do you like best?" Callie asked slowly, eyes fixated on the tight nipples that she fondled eagerly. "My fingers?" she asked, flicking each nipple with her fingertips. "My thumb?" she added, running circles with the pad of her thumbs. "Or my palm?" she murmured, licking her lips as she flattened her hand and massaged the entire breast.
Arizona moaned, "It's all good," she answered but Callie narrowed her eyes at her. "If I had to choose, your fingers, flicking back and forth. Fast." Callie immediately responded, hastily working at Arizona's request. "How about you?" Arizona questioned breathlessly.
"I like it all. As long as you hands are near me, I'm turned on."
"You sure? You don't like my mouth on you more?" Arizona questioned, leaning forward and hungrily using the warm water to lap at Callie's round full breasts.
"Yes," Callie gasped. "That is amazing." She bucked suddenly in the water, surprised as Arizona placed her thumbs on either side of her labia. "Arizona."
"Mmmm?" Arizona questioned, not moving her mouth but working two fingers to slide into Callie. Releasing her mouth momentarily, Arizona breathed hot air against her skin. "You're so wet."
"You make me like that."
"I'm glad," Arizona smiled, slipping her fingers out and adding a third finger before pushing them in and out rhythmically. "Tell me how it feels? Tell me what you like…"
"Talk like that and I'm not going to last," Callie said, grinning, eyes darting and hands running quickly up and down the inside of Arizona's thighs.
"I like to hear you. It's so arousing, hearing you like what I do to you."
"Oh I do, your fingers inside of me. I can feel them moving and I like it when you start slowly and then get quicker. I like feeling your breath catch when I tighten around your fingers." Arizona responded, slowing her fingers before gradually increasing her speed, slightly bending the end of her fingers to tug at the thick walls inside of her. "And I like it when you thumb, softly touches my clit."
Arizona tilted her head back and groaned, her thumb slowly sliding up until it was able to gently tap at her clitoris. "I need you inside of me too," Arizona requested, breathing heavily. "When you talk like that…" she trailed off, moving closer to Callie as she reached between them. "Do the same, I want you to do the same."
Callie extended her neck, fingers easily sliding through Arizona's entrance and copying the pace she had set. She sought out Arizona's lips, tongues pushing heavily against each other, moaning loudly into their mouths. "I want to cum with you, Arizona. I want to feel you explode around my fingers, my hand. You're so good, so hot. I want to cum at the same time."
Arizona groaned, her hips involuntarily moving with Callie's hand. "Keep going, don't stop," she requested. They knew each other so well, knew the subtle signs that meant they were close. Arizona could tell that Callie was teetering on the edge, so she slowed her fingers, sliding in and out and pushing her thumb up in the air.
Callie worked at her, using her other hand to return attention to her nipple, squeezing roughly, desperate for Arizona to close the gap. "I'm so close Arizona," she said, face tilted to the ceiling, eyes closed.
"I know," Arizona replied, "I'm going to cum so hard for you. "
"Jesus, that's not helping," Callie gasped, suddenly releasing her fingers from Arizona and moving up to her knees, water spilling over the side of the bathtub.
"What happened to 'don't stop'?" Arizona questioned breathlessly.
Callie gave her a short wink and crouched up on her knees, returning her hand to Arizona's vagina. She used one hand to gently spread the lips and her other to return focus to Arizona's clitoris. "You're going to get so close," Callie started, her words released slowly and deliberately. "Then, I'm going to get on top of you and we're going to cum so hard."
Arizona released an immediate groan, leaning back and letting Callie bring her dangerously close. She reached her hands up and started playing with her own nipples, running her hands over her breasts, fingers squeezing the sensitive centre. She continued to moan, louder and more urgent every few seconds. "Calliope," she gasped, eyes closing in a prolonged blink.
"You getting closer baby?" Callie asked.
"Yes, very. Yes."
"Mmmm, good," she said in response, watched Arizona's expression intently. "Not yet," she instructed.
"Callie…" Arizona stated urgently, eyes flashing open.
Callie slowed slightly, releasing one hand to reach between her own legs. Arizona stared intently, mouth wide, swallowing heavily. "One…" Callie counted, slowly stroking her finger over her own clit in synchronicity with what she was doing to Arizona. "I'll only take a few flicks," she explained, her face starting to contort as she fought to keep control. "Two."
"You need to stop," Arizona gasped, grabbing suddenly at her hand, gripping it tightly.
"Three," Callie added, "And…yes, four."
"Now Calliope, I need you on top of me now. I…" she trailed off, arching her back and moving against the water.
Callie grinned, moving to place her legs either side of Arizona and coming to rest on her hips. Arizona bucked quickly at her, reaching to grip her hips tightly in her hands. "You want me to rub against you Arizona?" Callie teased.
"Yes," Arizona responded earnestly. "I want you to move you hips and grind into me. Because I'm going to cum so hard and so quickly."
"Mmmm," Callie groaned, lowering her upper body and holding her open mouth to the corner of Arizona's. She moved ever so slightly, and they moaned in unison.
"Yes," Arizona muttered, enough to urge Callie to continue with her slight movements. It was enough to send them teetering, mouths open and breathing hot air against each other's faces. "Yes," Arizona repeated, "yes."
With a loud groan, Callie muttered a high-pitched agreement, "Yes." It sent them over the edge, their climax coming simultaneously as promised and with cries that echoed against the bathroom walls. They clutched at each other's skin, Arizona's fingernails digging slightly into Callie's neck as she desperately pulled her against her as Callie's thighs squeezed around her hips.
Slowly, their movement slowed, though their breathing remained short and heavy. Arizona pulled Callie to collapse against her, dipping her face into her hair and holding on to her tightly. "Stay," Arizona whispered as Callie tensed her muscles and started to lift her body off her. "Please."
She relaxed back, slipping slightly to the side of Arizona, half of her body spread across her chest, one arm and leg draped over her hips and chest. Arizona kept her face hidden, her breathing slowly returning to a more level pace. "Arizona?" Callie asked eventually, "You okay?" She felt a nod against her skin, but not verbal response. Panicking slightly, Callie lifted her head and drew herself away from Arizona, taking in her tearful expression.
"I'm sorry," she offered feebly, a wet piece of blond hair falling across her face.
Callie shook her head and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. "You're going to be alright," she insisted. "Because I'm right here." Arizona nodded in agreement, offering a small, half smile.
Sometimes the tiny, white coffins with butterflies are forgotten. Maybe one day, they won't come back so often.
Fin.
All feedback welcomed and enjoyed.
Cheers, Author's Tune