Hey Batter, Batter, Swing
Summary: Callie and Arizona are watching a softball game, but Arizona doesn't really understand the basics. So, Callie teaches her. But not quite how one would think.
Time Frame: Before 8x07
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: This is just a little something that my friend and I came up with after we bonded over our love for softball. It's nothing special but hopefully a little something that makes your day better!
When it comes to what they watch on television, Arizona Robbins has never really had an issue; mostly because, no matter what Callie wants to see, they always ended up watching what Arizona wanted, and then half way through they either ended up having sex or falling asleep. But tonight, despite her pleading and begging, Arizona did not win the control of the remote, and the Latina sits in front of their high definition television, a bowl of chips and an opened beer in front of her watching softball, like a stereotypical lesbian.
It's not that Arizona does not like softball; it's just that she doesn't understand it. She does not get why women like to bat at balls like some type of barbaric animal and then proceed to run around a geometrical figure while the other girls try to throw a ball to hit them with it. Oh and then there is that whole sliding in the dirt thing. She is sure that sand, or whatever that red stuff is, she grumbles to herself, is a bitch to get out. Oh and then God forbid the pitcher does something illegal, if something is illegal, doesn't that mean she should be arrested? No, she grouses sliding further down in her seat, softball is just not something that excites her; however, apparently, it is something that excites her wife as the Ortho surgeon lets out a yelp when the umpire calls the third strike.
"I don't get it. You like watching softball on television and you never thought you were into women?" Arizona grumbles in a pout, looking over at her wife who, at this very moment, reminds her of a boy the way that she is eating those chips and proceeding to wipe the grease on the legs of her Seattle ball shorts. Wrinkling her brow, Callie looks at Arizona as she pops another chip into her mouth, chewing frustratingly.
"Well, you're a lesbian without half the clichés," Callie counterattacks with an triumphant grin and Arizona huffs in a pout, sliding further down into the seat as she crosses her arms over her chest.
"Ah, see, that's the difference. I am a trendsetter!" Arizona exclaims with a nod of her head. Callie wiggles her eyebrows before she turns her attention back to the television as another batter steps up to the plate, practicing her swinging.
"Yeah, right. Because soon every house in the United States is going to have chicken coops and no babies and people are going to ride into work on their rocket power heelies and kiss random strangers in the bathroom of the local bar sober and the word 'super' is going to become the national catchphrase," Callie chuckles at her own brilliance as she pops another chip into her mouth, chewing, "oh come on, Ump! That was so a strike! Are you blind?" She groans at the umpire's calling and clearly, half the team agrees with Callie's outburst of unhappiness.
"You know he can't hear you, right?" Arizona smirks and if looks could kill, Arizona Robbins would have dropped dead right then and there. Sulking even more, the blonde picks absently at her t-shirt, glancing over at her wife who is suddenly paying her no attention, but instead is fixated at watching the very athletic girls in shorts throwing balls.
"Besides, I think super would be a super awesome catchphrase for the United States," Arizona murmurs, looking down as she bats her eyelashes, trying her hardest to hold her pout in hopes that Callie would get the hint and turn the channel. Chuckling at her wife's antics, Callie reaches over and grabs a pinch full of Arizona's cheek, giving it a hard squeeze.
"You're so cute when you're jealous!" Callie teases in a baby voice and Arizona quickly backs away, swatting at her wife, grumbles falling from her lips that just misses Callie's ears.
"I am not jealous!" Arizona protests, wrinkling her golden brow in annoyance and Callie chuckles, shaking her head before she turns her attention back to the television as the umpire calls the third strike. And the audience, dugout, and Callie all cheer loudly, and rather barbarically if Arizona does say so herself. The Latina reaches forward as she takes a long swig of her beer, noticing her pouting wife out of the corner of her eye looking like she has just had her favorite toy taken away. Chuckling to herself, she leans back in the sofa as the team switches sides from defense to offense and she eyes her brooding wife with a playful smile.
"You know, you could watch this and take notes. You could treat this like research for the upcoming softball games that you signed us up for with Owen," Callie remarks, "which by the way, thanks for asking my opinion on if I wanted to or not. You know, that's the whole part of a marriage, partnership. Not one person making all the decisions. But you're blonde. You're a control freak. Some people like that, I guess." Callie mumbles as she takes a swig of her beer and Arizona rolls her eyes gently.
"Owen was so sad that no one signed up and he was making that face, you know the face when he looks like a sad puppy that had been kicked right after the owner took his food away…"
"Right and you're Arizona freakin' Robbins. You can't let a kicked puppy lie." Callie notes in a monotone voice and Arizona looks at her with a smug grin playing upon her pursed lips.
"Oh, so you would have liked for me to leave you all 'sad puppy, nobody wants me because all the good puppies have been taken from the pet shop and I'm left to wonder the streets alone because nobody loves me and my life sucks' in the bathroom that night?" Arizona retorts and Callie laughs bitterly, taking another long swig of her beer.
"Touché, Arizona. Touché," Callie laughs, lifting her beer for a toast before taking another drink. Arizona smiles victoriously, glancing back at the television as the announcer mentions that now, number nineteen Amanda Chidester is up to bat and Arizona is not one to miss the fact that the girl is blonde when she puts on the helmet.
"Oh, look, Callie. That one is blonde. I mean, she's your type, right? That's why you're watching this. You're totally daydreaming about banging her in the dugout after she is all sweaty and happy and yay and stuff after hitting the ball out over that fence aren't you? You wanna go screw her? Is that why you are watching this?" Arizona grumbles and Callie looks at her with a smirk.
"No."
"Why? Cause you're married?"
"Not quite."
"Cause she's younger than you?"
"Nope," Callie chuckles as she pops a chip in her mouth, chewing before looking over at her with an all knowing smirk, "because it's probably dirty in there. And there's nothing sexy about having sex in the dirt. It just sticks in places that are not very pleasant. Trust me." She winks with a dirty chuckle. Arizona rolls her eyes as she laughs bitterly, sulking further in the sofa.
"Gee, that is something everyone wants to hear their wife say!" Arizona exclaims and Callie laughs, winking at her as she places a chaste kiss on her cheek before turning her eyes back on the television.
"Don't worry babe, I'd totally do you in the dirt," Callie comments between chewing.
"Oh, how chivalrous of you, my dear," Arizona drones with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance and Callie smirks over at her, winking at her wife's adorableness. There is nothing in the world cuter than Arizona Robbins in the world when she is pouting, Callie beams. For the following minutes, neither of the women talk but watch as the batters swing away at the pitches being thrown at them, some successful and some not so successful. Eyeing her raven haired beauty carefully, Arizona smirks with a wrinkle of her nose. If pouting doesn't work, she knows there is a scientifically proven way to get what she wants, a way that the girls on the USA Softball team can't give to Calliope. Or maybe they could, but Arizona bets that it is not even half as good as hers.
"But you know, I get it, being out there in the sun and exercising make endorphins flow and it makes you feel... You know, it's kind of like having an orgasm." Arizona replies with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders and instantly Callie drops the chip at the fire fueling word, looking over at her wife, licking her lips quietly. Arizona smirks at her wife with a confident laugh before turning back to the television, watching as another batter hits a base run.
"You know, that pitcher is amazing. I mean, the speed and accuracy, I'm surprised the batters can even swing, let alone hit things over a fence hundreds of feet away," Arizona states, taking a chip from the bowl and placing it in her mouth, chewing rather reluctantly. Callie doesn't look at her wife; instead, she takes another long swig of her beer, trying desperately to rid the dirty thoughts that are now creating an all too familiar ache between her legs.
"It's all just muscle memory. They train and practice so much that they swing without even thinking," Callie replies casually, as another batter gets a base hit after the ball swerves just right of being foul, not that the opposing team did not argue that it was indeed foul, "I remember it from when I played back in high school. All you did was practice, practice, practice. Sunshine, rain, hurricanes. We practiced through it all." She chuckles at her memory, popping another chip into her mouth and Arizona smirks, her hand sliding onto Calliope's thigh where she squeezes gently.
"Practice, huh? Does that mean we have to practice?" Arizona grins and Callie gulps, swallowing her mouthful of chips hard, choking just slightly. Glancing down at her wife's advancing hand which moves up and down her thigh, Callie can feel her mouth going try as she finds herself staring into those bottled blues.
"Practicing can be fun," Callie grins widely. Sharing a flirting gaze with her wife, Callie smirks widely before she jumps up, much to Arizona's surprise. Quickly, without so much as a struggle, the raven haired woman pushes the coffee table out of the way of self-harm and then turns back to the golden blonde with her palm held out.
"Come on, let me teach you a thing or two about batting," Callie grins and Arizona looks at the outstretched palm in front of her before looking up at those hooded brown eyes with a gentle pout. How had Callie missed all those signs she was throwing her? Is she really that oblivious? She's got softball on the brain, Arizona sighs, glancing at the palm; she cannot compete with that, no matter how great of an orgasm she can give.
"Callie, I didn't really mean 'practicing' practicing, I meant…"
"If we want to be the winners, we have to practice. And practice makes perfect, Robbins. Do you want to be a loser? Huh? Do you want to kick the sad puppy even more? If we lost this game, it would be like you left the sad, starving, abused puppy out in the rain!" Callie exclaims waving her palm closer to Arizona's face and the blonde looks up at her in exasperation.
"I really don't want to…"
"It'll be fun," Callie grins, "I promise." Glancing back at the outstretched palm, Arizona sighs in disappointment before she places her palm within her wife's, instantly their fingers lace in the most perfect squeeze. Callie grins all knowingly as she casually places her muttering wife in front of her, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach in anticipation of what she knows is about to come.
"Okay, first, you need to work on your batter's stance. You need to bend her knees a little," Callie instructs, tapping Arizona in the back of the leg. Reflexively, the blonde's knees buckles as she almost falls to the floor, but Callie's clutch stops her.
"Calliope! I could have fallen and broken something!"
"Yeah, yeah, you're married to an orthopedic surgeon. You're not going to die or anything. Now, square your hips up, you want to be turned just a little so that when the ball comes to you, you can get enough of it to send it past the fence," Callie instructs, her hands sliding down Arizona's body slowly to squeeze her hips roughly, slowly turning her. Arizona muffled moan at her wife's touch is one that does miss Callie's ears as she smirks.
"Good, square your shoulders," Callie exclaims, her lips close enough to Arizona's ear that the blonde can hear the inhale and exhale of oxygen that the raven haired beauty takes. Slowly, Callie's hands slide up Arizona's front before reaching her shoulders, pushing them back just a little.
"Great, now hold your bat," Callie directs and Arizona rolls her eyes as she holds the imaginary bat in her hands. Smiling a little, Arizona wiggles her butt into Callie, moving her hips side to side, trying to do the batter's dance that the USA batter is currently doing on their television.
"I bet I look stupid," Arizona chuckles and Callie groans, her eyes grazing her wife's backside.
"Trust me, you look anything but stupid," Callie replies. She can hear a throaty chuckle rumble in the back of Arizona's throat and it sends a new wave of desire radiating in her core. Gently, her hands slide down Arizona's front, exploring every inch of her skin as her wife sucks in a breath at the touching. Firmly, Callie's hands curve at Arizona's hips as she squeezes them, empowered by the suggestive moan that echoes from her wife. Glancing back at their television, Callie listens to the announcer as he introduces pitcher Jackie Traina behind the mound and instantly she smiles.
"The J-Train! Choo! Choo! We're going to ride her all the way to victory!" Callie exclaims making a train like noise and Arizona wrinkles her brow, glancing over her shoulder at her wife who has somehow managed to turn very much into a dude, an immature dude at that.
"Excuse me?" Arizona questions, looking at her wife in confusion and Callie freezes with a dry chuckle, realizing how terribly inappropriate the statement must have sounded. Blushing only slightly, Callie smiles; squeezing her hands at Arizona's curved hips.
"I was just saying that she's the best pitcher in the country. She led Alabama to their very first National Title. There is no way anyone is going to get a hit off her," Callie replies with a gentle smile, innocently pushing her hips against Arizona's and the blonde groans at the contact, "except you." Callie whispers, her lips just inches from Arizona's ear. Grunting inwardly, Arizona leans back into her wife, allowing the taller woman to take control of her body.
"Okay, one of the most important things about softball offense is how you bat and how much swing you put into it. You don't want to pop up or ground out. You see if you pop up without much distance, you are swinging up too much. Pop ups are bad because they give the outfielders enough time to catch the ball and then you're out. Which is bad. Very bad. Which is why we have to work on your swing because if you drop your shoulder, it changes the angle of your bat and you'll often get a pop up, and we don't want that, do we?" Callie instructs and Arizona rolls her eyes, dropping her invisible bat.
"Callie, I'm not playing for the major leagues here. It's just a pickup game. I don't have to be perfect," Arizona grumbles and Callie chuckles, squeezing her hips once more, listening to the internal approval from the petite woman.
"Ah, but you're married to me. And I was MVP at my school. So, you have to be good. You have to be really good. You don't want the sad puppy to be left in the rain, do you?" Callie teases and Arizona mumbles what sounds like 'yeah, yeah' as she shifts her weight anxiously. Laughing softly, Callie rests her chin on Arizona's shoulder once more, holding to her hips as the playful smirk dances across her lips. Looking at the television, Arizona observes as Traina throws a pitch that strikes the batter out without hesitation.
"All I know is if sad puppy wants to find a home, the pitcher in this game better not be as good as J-rod, J-car, J…whatever her name is, the… the girl there with the hair and the face, yeah, they better not be as good as her because it's hard enough to even think about hitting a ball coming at my face. Let alone deal with drop ball, a curve ball, and a crotch pitch!" Arizona whines and Callie laughs warmly.
"It's a crop pitch, babe," Callie corrects laughing and Arizona grumbles.
"Whatever, same difference."
"Actually, not really, you see a crop pitch is…"
"Oh my God, Callie, can we just get the show on the road here? It's not like I am planning on doing this for the rest of my life or taking an exam over it. This is a onetime thing. And a onetime thing only!" Arizona groan and Callie chuckles at her wife's impatience.
"Alright, now pick up your bat again, rookie!" Callie instructs, tapping the crown of Arizona's head and the blonde rolls her eyes as she annoyed, and very tensely, picks up the imaginary bat. "Good job. Now, you want to give a little two eyed look, and hold your bat at…" Callie reaches forward, her fingers sliding up Arizona's arms, lifting them up just slightly, "forty five. Good. Now, you need to get some momentum going in your body. There's lots of ways to do it but the way that I did it was more of an internal weight shift." Callie explains, slowly and seductively sliding her hands down Arizona's front, listening to the blonde whisper a gentle moan as she finds her hips in a firm grip.
"Which is where you shift back a little like this," Callie describes, using her hands to pull Arizona back a little "and then you step forward with your weight." She instructs, pushing Arizona's hips forward as her own hips meet against hers, thrusting against hers just slightly for more movement, "which gives a good stretch, everything is where it should be." The Latina explains, her hips dancing against Arizona's and the blonde swallows hard, her mouth suddenly growing very dry.
"You want to remember that your weight has to start from the back side and smoothly shift to the front during the swing, the smoother the better, that determines how hard the ball is hit," Callie simplifies, running her hand down Arizona's thigh to squeeze her leg, making sure she adjusts herself properly. Arizona closes her eyes, moaning softly at her wife's sensual touch. Smirking against her ear, Callie pushes her hips into her wife's once more, a radiating pain settling in her core at their touch.
"Next is the rotational part of your swing. So, you have to make sure that you keep your head down and your eyes on the ball, don't get psyched out or distracted, not even for a second cause that could cause a strike. You need to make sure that you maintain a good connection and that your elbow is getting inside of your body and it's important that you keep your wrists in a cocked position as your bat is coming through the good part of the hitting zone," The raven haired woman states, slowly running her hands back up Arizona's front, gently taking her arms in her hands, moving them leisurely through the hitting zone.
"Then you release and whip the bat head into the ball," Callie groans into Arizona's ear, pushing her hips into hers from behind once more with greater force as the imaginary bat makes the hypothetical contact with the ball and instantly, Arizona moans, a little less quiet this time, "and make sure you keep your extension and follow through." She instructs, lifting Arizona's arms for the follow through, placing a kiss just in the crook of Arizona's neck. Moaning quietly, Arizona can feel Callie's teeth graze upon her skin and the wetness of her tongue just softly against her flesh and it sends the moisture settling somewhere else in her body besides her mouth. Instinctively, Arizona drops the bat, leaning back into her wife but Callie pulls away gently, resting her nose in the crook of Arizona's neck.
"Oh no, que no haya todavía," (Oh no, you are not done yet) Callie whispers huskily into Arizona's skin and the blonde squirms at the hoarseness of her wife's voice.
"Cal-Callie," Arizona murmurs. Smirking into her flesh, Callie places another kiss upon her skin, her lips lingering just above the pulse point that drives her lover wild. Sensually, her hands slide down the pediatric surgeon's body, tracing just under her breasts before sliding down her stomach and gripping back onto her hips, pulling her back so that their hips make contact and Arizona moans loudly.
"Bunting is also an important part of softball. It's a special type of offense, they are different kids like bunting for a base hit, a swinging bunt, but really, you want to make sure that you know how to sacrifice bunt because chances are, depending on how good your pitcher is, you're going to be in a situation like this where you need to advance your runners," Callie explains, her hands roaming Arizona's hips, sliding to the front where they slip just down her center and onto her thighs, creating a pleasurable gasp from the blonde.
"You want to step up in the box so that when you hit it, it has a greater chance of being fair. And you want to hold the bat horizontal," Callie instructs, running her palms up Arizona's sides, gripping at the fabric of her shirt before she gently takes her arms and shows her how to properly hold the imaginary bat. "Keep it just at the top of the strike zone because if it's higher than you hand you know it's not going to be a strike, and it's key to bunt strikes. Sometimes you can get lucky and get a walk, which is also good because it advances your runners but for the sake of this, we're saying you are not getting a walk." Callie chuckles throatily in Arizona's ear, squeezing her arms as she pushes her hips into her from behind once again.
"Then you just keep one hand down at the knob and then one hand up here, and you keep your fingers tucked in, it'll keep your fingers from getting hit. Cause, trust me, you don't want them to get hit. I need them in tiptop shape for the party when we win," Callie chuckles dirtily, nipping at Arizona's neck, sending another deep moan from her lips.
"Keep your head down and your eyes out to watch the ball. It's easier to keep your eyes as close to the bat as possible cause it gives you a better read on the pitch. Oh and keep the bat horizontal and use your knees to get balls that are lower from the strike zone." She explains, pushing her hips to Arizona's again, more rough and aggressive this time as the imaginary ball, hypothetically makes contact. "A good way to make contact with the ball is pretend you are catching the ball with the bat and with a little bit of give, you can deaden the ball and it can create a great offensive play." Slowly, Arizona lowers her bat as she pushes her hips back into Callie again, the Latina groaning at the contact.
"You advanced your runners, good job, Rookie." Callie whispers, biting her earlobe softly as she pushes her hips into Arizona's forcefully while her hands grip at her side and Arizona whimpers.
"Do… Do I get a re-reward?" Arizona gasps, pushing her hips back into Callie's again, creating a rhythmic force of friction. Callie chuckles seductively, sucking Arizona's earlobe into her mouth, tugging her teeth against it before she releases. Grabbing her lover's sides, she pushes her hips into her harder, an erotic moan rumbling in the back of Arizona's throat as she kisses down her neck slowly.
"Oh, you bet you do," Callie groans into her flesh as she places another kiss there.
Calliope Torres knows one thing for sure- this one is going to be out of the park.
NOTE: If you would like to read the NC-17 version of this fic, then please check out my LJ site. The link has been provided for you on my profile. Thanks in advance!