Note: This is my first Calzona fan fiction. I went into a frenzy when getting this out and failed to properly edit. I made some updates and I'm thankful for all that have followed, favorited and reviewed. Also, none of these characters are mine. And This is again based off a scene/episode of GIRLS which also doesn't belong to me. I'll be adding my own twists and such along the way and I will try my best to update soon. Thanks again!
The alarm that sat on Arizona's nightstand sent tiny red beams of light through the harsh darkness of her bedroom. Arizona was already awake and staring at it, her blue eyes taking in every inch of the red digital print that seemed to rule her life. She was so used to waking up at this time; her body had triggered an even earlier alarm that had her up and staring at the thing for at least twenty minutes in advance. She rolled over from her side and stared at the ceiling, tucking her arms behind her head. She couldn't remember a time when her life wasn't governed by that clock, she couldn't remember a time when she felt like an active member in her life anyway.
Sometimes she felt like she was watching herself outside her body. She watched herself get forced into a career her father thought was suitable, she watched the first girlfriend walk away and the last three after that. She watched them tell her it wasn't her, it was them. She watched them say that living with her was like settling, like giving up. She felt like a spectator, a bystander and the whole time the only thing present were those thick numbers on the alarm clock, flipping so loudly she could hear them even in her deepest sleep.
Instead of waiting for it to screech and break the golden silence of the morning, she reached over and disabled the alarm. She swung her feet over the edge of her bed, and then stood to stretch before dropping down for a few crunches and pushups. Her father was in the army so this morning ritual was just another thing that entered her life and stuck. She got up from the ground and walked over to her window, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. It was still dark outside but she could spot flecks of gold appearing on the horizon signifying the start of the day.
She walked away from her bedroom window and headed for her toiletry closet. Inside were her towels, folded and arranged by length, pattern and size. She grabbed some fresh linen and headed for her walk in shower and sauna system. She regularly frequented her shower and found it was her favorite place for reflection. So naturally when she had secured a decent amount of income as well as her own practice, she placed a large amount of money into a home and shower system that provided her with these small comforts. The shower had a bench installed with multiple shower heads and a music system. She selected 'sounds from the forest' and began her morning shower.
Showered and relaxed, she headed back into her room wrapped in a large, deep purple towel, her blonde hair wrapped in a matching smaller one. She walked over to her closet and found her outfit for the day, already ironed and matched from head to toe. She wasn't much on fashion, she just knew one color worked for her very well and that was black. So normally it was black slacks, black blouse, black heels: rinse, wash, repeat.
After drying, moisturizing and jumping into her clothes she began to brew her morning espresso. While the coffee brewed Arizona went to her front door and retrieved her newspaper. By then her coffee was finished so she sat at her kitchen table sipping and shaking her head at the absurd headlines she was forced to read nearly daily.
She finished her coffee and then prepared a bowl of Special K with half a sliced banana in it. Arizona checked the time and quickly polished off her breakfast, grabbed her lunch, bottled water and headed for the door. She was nearly in her car when she realized she had forgotten to take the trash out, another thing that had become a part of her daily routine. She went back into her home, still very much mindful of the time and bagged up her trash making sure to pull the drawstring as tight as possible. When she finally locked up and headed for the trashcan, she took a moment to survey her neighborhood.
When she first moved she hated it, and soon realized she may be the oldest person in it. It was one of those areas being invaded by hip, new age folks who ate barbeque tofu and played the body drum. One thing she did appreciate was the cleanliness of the neighborhood however; no abandoned cars on cement blocks or stray animals littered the surrounding streets. It was peaceful enough, and she'd sacrifice a few encounters with people of this particular generation to stay.
Arizona reached her trashcan and popped open the lid and without looking went to stuff her bag inside so she could quickly continue her day. She placed the bag in and went to shut the lid when she heard her garbage bag spill to the floor. Arizona raised an eyebrow then bent to lift the bag again but this time she took a look down inside.
Her jaw tightened as she saw what was obstructing her early morning trash duty. Inside were two garbage bags filled with coffee grounds, paper cups and old pastries. She looked up with one eyebrow raised, wondering who was doing this. This was the fourth day in a row that her trashcan was brimming with someone else's garbage.
She didn't mind if one of her neighbors needed to discard some of their things but, they could have at least asked. This was becoming a complete nuisance. She didn't want her garbage on display for the world and she certainly didn't like the idea of it not being put away properly. Arizona was a stickler for rules. She had been since birth. She had a rule and time frame for each and every day. She placed her own bag to the side of her trashcan and prayed the garbage collector would get to it. Besides, if she stayed a moment later she would be late for her morning appointments.
After driving a good distance, Arizona parked in her office suites garage and road the elevator up to her floor. She thought she had shaken off the initial anger from 'trash-gate' but found it maybe had affected her a bit more than she wished to acknowledge.
Her train of thought however, was broken by the soft bing of the elevator signifying she had reached the correct floor. She stepped off the elevator, located her office suite and walked inside to find Heather, her assistant, sitting behind the desk finishing up a phone call with a possible patient. She walked over and stood beside her desk waiting for her to finish and give her the daily run down.
Heather hung up the phone and stood with a small smile.
"Good morning Doctor Robbins." She paused to pick up her appointment book and began her run down of patients coming in for the day. "You've got an appointment set for 9, I just got a call from a woman who…"
Arizona faded out on the young girl's voice. Her mind had shifted back to the trash debacle this morning. She cleared her throat and tried to focus again but found it had become impossible.
"Do you leave…" She paused briefly. "…your garbage…have you ever put your trash in someone else's trashcan?"
Heather perturbed stopped listing appointments and looked around, shocked that Dr. Robbins had sparked a conversation that didn't involve day to day operations. She realized that she was of course talking to her seeing as she was the only one with her in the office. She cleared her throat and began to speak but found herself incredibly nervous under the steely gaze of the blonde.
"I umm…trash? I mean this one time I ate a piece of birthday cake out of the trashcan. Someone had just tossed the thing in and it had barely touched any of the other garbage so-"
Arizona puzzled decided to bypass discussing her assistants embarrassing and very personal childhood stories.
"Some kid, or person or I don't know…" She shook her head slightly and sighed. "…weirdo with a trash fetish is dumping their garbage in my trashcan. And it doesn't bother me that they are doing it, it's just that a little heads up would be nice so I can make other arrangements." She folded her arms across her chest and sighed. "And I over looked it the past few days trying to be nice but it's really starting to get on my nerves, this morning it was so full I had to lean my trash against the garbage can."
She paused her mini-rant to place on her white coat and pull her hair out and over her shoulders.
Heather saw this as an opening in the conversation for her and Dr. Robbins and tried to interject. Also, she needed to do major damage control since she volunteered the rather embarrassing moment in her life. "That birthday cake thing…I mean I was a kid…I didn't recently eat cake out of a-"
"It's just a huge inconvenience and I don't want to ride up here with a smelly bag of waste in my backseat. It's my trashcan; at least have the decency to leave a small amount of room, right?"
Heather gave up on the story and instead nodded slightly agreeing with her employer. "Right."
"Is this what this world has come to, we have a constant invasion on everything we hold near and dear. We've got loony's filming us just in case they find a good bit to upload on youtube, traffic light cameras and god knows what else recording our every move and now this…the final frontier of the attack on personal space."
Arizona took a break from her rant to harshly readjust her coat. She was about to continue when she realized Heather was staring at her like she had two heads. "I...I uh, you said I had someone to see at 9?"
"Yes, checkup."
Arizona checked the time. It was 8:40; she had about 20 minutes to center in her office before her day began. She turned to enter her office doors but was halted by her assistant voice.
"Dr. Robbins?"
She turned and gave the girl her full attention. Heather squirmed, again hesitant with her current request. She and the doctor spoke but it was always very brief and extremely rare. Deep inside she knew she was wrong but maybe their conversation earlier had finally dropped the barriers between them.
"I have a thing. I mean M-m-monday I have this thing I'd like to attend but…"
"But?" Arizona questioned.
"But I work Mondays and I was wondering..."
"Wondering what?" Arizona baited, gesturing for her to spit it out.
"I was wondering if I could have the day off. There's this little café that me and my friends are meeting up at for class and…"
"I thought you said your school schedule wouldn't be a problem?"
"I've been working here for about five months and I promise this is the first and only time that my schedule will intervene…"
"There are a lot of aspiring people in the medical field Heather, that would kill for a job that pertains to this field that already allows such leniency. You do your homework here, I've been mindful of your schedule so far and yet you need an entire day away from work? Do you think it would be that easy for me to suddenly call in on loyal patients that depend on me medically?"
"I-I, it's no big deal I can…"
"When I was in your position I managed to work, intern and go to school simultaneously never once asking for accommodations Heather. This line of work is about-"
"Little early for tongue lashings don't you think Dr. Robbins?" A stout African-American woman with a short perfectly styled bob stated as she made her way over to the two women speaking. She placed her hands into her coat pockets and rocked forward slightly.
"I was just informing Heather..."
"Look, it's no big deal. I can call a temp who can work Monday for you; I always have her on call just in case something comes up with my assistant. No muss no fuss." She finished her sentence with a smile and Arizona couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"Fine, just make sure she's booked because I can't do it all you know." Arizona said raising her hands into the air briefly before heading towards her office doors.
Heather quickly mouthed a thank you to Bailey who shot her a wink before following hotly on Arizona's heels.
The blonde sank behind her desk into her very comfortable chair while Bailey took the seat in front of her.
"Tell me Bailey, do you get paid to be this chipper in the morning?"
"No I do not, and I'm positive you're not on the payroll for being so grumpy either,"
Arizona sighed. "I didn't mean to be so testy with her…"
"Oh, you mean the assistant you barely speak to; boss around incessantly and for the first month of employment could barely remember the girls' name? Yeah you didn't mean to chastise her for asking for one day off, despite her hard work in this office for you."
Blue eyes rolled in annoyance then fell on deep brown pupils. "I am not chastising her, I'm pushing her. Girls at that age should be just as focused as I was. No one's giving out any hand-outs in life. She'll thank me one day for being her boss instead of her friend Miranda."
Bailey chuckled slightly. "I work in pediatric care; my assistant is my life line to sanity. Yes we go to lunch, yes we laugh and trade stories but what we never do is forget who's who in the whole scheme of things. As long as work is getting done professionally and on time, I don't see harm in befriending those you employ."
Miranda stood and walked behind her seat, leaning over it slightly to continue her conversation. "And I am a firm believer in a happy employee is an efficient employee. Also, would you stop referring to yourself as if you are over the hill and next in line for a social security check? You're 35 Arizona, there's life in you yet."
Miranda sighed and shook her head. "I'm a divorcee with a kid that I have to share with my estranged husband and his plastic wife. Even I go out with friends, dance…I've even taking up a yoga class."
Arizona laughed. "Yoga?"
"Yes yoga." Bailey said matter of factly. "It frees my body and limbers me up just in case I go out one night and get back on the pony if you will…"
Arizona's face pinched. "Gross."
"What?! Somebody's got to clear out the cobwebs…I think I saw a bat fly out of this thing the other day..."
"Oh no." Arizona warned a smirk on her face. "It is way too early for cobwebs and…bat caves."
They both shared a laugh before Bailey made her way over to the door to exit.
"Arizona, you have got to unwind sweetheart. And stop looking for funeral plots. We may be of a certain age, but that doesn't mean our life stops and we have to shake our fists at teenagers and complain about how it was back in our day. Besides, you don't want to become one of those weird cat ladies do you?"
"For your information, I hate cats." Arizona stated flatly.
"Now. The next thing you know you'll be wearing really horrible sweaters, even in the dead of summer, covered in cat hair. Then you'll start carrying pictures of the damn things in your wallet."
"Don't you have patients to attend to?" Arizona questioned practically shooing the woman out of her office.
"Yeah, just wondering if maybe the reason why you're so up-tight is because of the cobwebs…"
"Out." She said playfully as Dr. Bailey took her exit after a small wave.
Arizona didn't have many friends or acquaintances. In fact, it was pretty safe to say she had no friends at all. Miranda was the closest she had which was fine by her. She was funny and occasionally she'd drag her to a Mexican restaurant and they'd trade stories on bottomless margarita night. She also had a very annoying way of spotting one of her 'moods' and drawing her out of it.
Her little speech did have her thinking as well. Was she be becoming…crotchety? Was she becoming one of those loners, those people who lived and died in recluse? She shook off the thought and checked the time. Five minutes to her first appointment and by the hustle outside her doors she knew they had already arrived. She had a job to do, so cobwebs and garbage cans would just have to wait until the end of the day.
x-One Man's trash-x
Callie stirred then snorted lightly as she turned over in her very warm bed. A stream of sunlight seeped into her room perfecting the best balance in the current lighting. Her eyes cracked slightly and fell on the spot of sunlight that fell on her arm. She briefly stretched then turned her head, ready to fall back into sleep. Calliope melted back into her bed perfectly and fell back into a peaceful slumber. Suddenly her eyes went wide and she popped out of bed checking the time on her phone. Slowly it came into focus as she pushed her long, dark black hair behind her ears.
10:30 a.m.
"Fuck." She stated softly to herself before tossing the phone to the bed. She took a few moments to gather herself before she hastily prepared for the day. She headed for her Ipod dock and put on a playlist that largely consisted of 90's rock. The only music she could stand to listen to these days without wanting to cut her own ears off.
She hopped into the shower and sung along with Alanis Morisette through a foamy, toothpaste filled mouth. She sighed when she used the last of her body wash and mentally noted to pick some up on her way back in for the night. If she came back in that is.
She exited her shower and grabbed a towel wrapping herself into it tightly. Steam had caused a fog on the bathroom mirror and as per her morning usual; she drew a smiley face with her index finger. After drying off she began her quest for clothing. She opened up her closet and found it was a complete wreck, one she didn't fill like even remotely dealing with. She instead looked on the floor around her bed and sniffed a pair of jeans before working them up her body. Callie finished off her ensemble with a black tank top and a pair of rundown black and white converse.
She wasn't much for groceries or breakfast so she dug through the refrigerator until she found a pizza box from about two days ago. Calliope grabbed a slice and munched on it, washing it down with a glass of Pepsi. She grabbed her bag and her keys and locked up before bounding down the stairs of her apartment complex. Once downstairs she quickly hopped on her 1929 Cleveland Tornado Four 1000 motorcycle. It was the last thing her father gave her before she told him about Erica. The last time he even considered himself a father to her.
After a quick start she was on her way to the Daily Grind, her place of employment under one Mark Sloan. She parked and made her way to the entrance where she was instantly hit with the aromatics of freshly brewed coffee and horrible hipster music she told him to get rid of ages ago. She hustled behind the counter and placed on her apron jumping in the line beside Mark frantically slinging coffee.
"So nice of you to join me today Callie." He stated as he handed a customer his order and began to work on a new one.
"Sorry, I do have an explanation as to why I'm this late…"
"Excuses are like behinds Callie. Everyone's always giving them to me." He smirked and handed another order to a girl who stood just a bit longer admiring the man behind the beans. Mark was handsome; in fact Calliope was sure he was the most attractive man she had ever met. He had gorgeous piercing eyes and blonde hair with tuffs of grey that he didn't bother to dye out. He said women thought he looked experienced, and he was. He was well educated, well versed in English literature and used it to woo a new woman into his bed every night. He even got her in for a friendly romp once upon a time. Not with the whole literature, super suave crap…mostly with the incredibly hot, incredibly good in bed part.
They managed to beat off the swarm of customers together until the morning rush was over and the customer gush turned into a slow trickle. While she tidied the counter, Mark came and stood beside her sipping from a mug of coffee.
"Just because I made a funny remark about that excuse Torres doesn't mean I don't need one."
She paused for a moment from wiping down the counter then sighed. "Long night…one full of drinks and close encounters with the same sex."
"Ah, a late night excursion. Details, and by details I mean down to the last sweaty sigh."
She laughed. "There was no sweaty sighing; there were drinks and kissing and attempted sex."
Mark laughed in between sips of coffee. "There are attempted murders, attempted manslaughters but never in my life have I ever heard of attempted sex."
"We attempted to become intimate and it ended...badly..."
"Badly as in...?"
"We were getting hot and heavy..." She walked over to the counter across from the bar near the door and began disposing of broken lids and half empty packets of sugar. "…then I might have said someone's else's name and ended up being comforted by what should have been a harmless hook-up."
"Seriously?" He questioned. Mark was baffled by the thought of a hook-up gone awry. It simply never happened to him before. "So let me get this straight, you went to a bar, got sauced up and weeped about your ex with a stranger you intended to have no strings attached relations with."
She nodded solemnly and he placed his mug down on the nearest steady surface to laugh hysterically.
"Asshole." She said laughing slightly because it sounded ridiculous when it came from someone else's mouth.
"Torres, you have got to get over this thing with Erica. It's been nearly a year."
"I am over Erica. So over her. If you looked up a picture of 'over Erica' in the dictionary, you'd see me."
"One problem with that Torres."
She quirked a brow.
"You won't find that in the dictionary. What you will find however, is the newly coined term attempted sex."
"Aren't you supposed to be supportive?" She said swatting him with her rag.
"I would be if it wasn't affecting your work. And it has for a while now. The only reason you're still employed at this point is because you have an amazing ass."
"I should report you."
"I thought that compliment was being supportive." He fired back.
"I didn't say it wasn't." She retorted and shook her hips. "I do have an amazing ass."
Mark walked over to her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "Callie, I love you. You are my best friend and it's my job to tell you this. You're slipping."
She moved away from his hand and her expression saddened. She knew he was only trying to be a good friend but still, reality was a bitch.
"You haven't been the same since that broad walked out on you. And as my only living progeny -"
"Seriously Mark, you've got to stop watching True Blood."
He placed his hand back on her shoulder, a bit more firmly this time. His eyes locked on hers, pooled with sincerity. "Torres, you are gorgeous and funny and some guy or girl is going to worship the ground you walk on someday. But let's look at the facts. Fact number 1, you're 27 and the only stability in your life is this job. You've got to move your focus away from your love life and find your passion. You've got to start working on you and your dream."
"What dream?" She asked softly then laughed shortly after.
"You know you are an amazing cook, and I remember once upon a time when you were an aspiring chef. Before Erica came into your life and sucked away…"
"She was supportive."
"She was only supportive when it was a convenience to her."
"I don't want to do this right now Mark…can I just do my job and we can have this heart to heart when I'm not this sober." She said in a nearly begging tone.
Mark gave her a small half hug. "Running low on creamer over there." He walked away after collecting his coffee. He wouldn't push her, but she needed to get this stuff off her chest. He wasn't the best with emotion, but Callie was his friend, so he would try his best to help her in any way he could. She needed a moment and he understood, sometimes we all needed a moment.
She sighed in relief when she saw he had given up on the talk. She didn't have it in her this morning. The brief message he did manage to get in did however begin to weigh on her mind. She did have a dream. She did have passion. She just wasn't sure if she was ready to pursue it, or if she was even capable. Or if she even cared to.
The day had finally wound down and Mark and Callie gathered there things for closing. She had swept and straightened up while he managed the funds and now the pair was headed out into the night. Outside Mark locked up the shop and placed two trash bags on the ground next to Callie.
"Trash duty Torres."
She smacked her lips loudly and grabbed the two bags. "When did this become one of my job requirements?"
"Let's see, since you've been coming in late and that whole month when you nearly lived here because you didn't want to and I quote 'smell her'."
"Point taken." She readjusted the bags in hand and waited for Mark to take his leave. She bid him farewell with a small wave and then began her search for her dumpster key. She frantically searched but was unable to locate it.
"Damnit!" She said tossing the trash back down to the ground. She had forgotten the dumpster key for the fourth day in a row now. She had made it a point to look for the key but her new tradition of over sleeping her alarm, coupled with copious amounts of booze, had really limited her time for anything in the mornings.
She tied either bag on the handles of her bike and started it before casually navigating into traffic. Calliope drove a small distance and came to a halt outside a home nearby the Daily Grind. She casually lifted the lid and stuffed her two bags on top, forcing the lid closed with a little muscle. Her new dumping ground was extremely convenient. It was nearby and was always placed perfectly out front for easy access. And the home it was in front of, it looked like a dream. One she may have had a long time ago, with a certain blonde.
She dusted off her hands, got back on her bike and decided to skip the bar. Maybe she needed a night to quietly reflect.
x-One Man's trash-x
Arizona was up way to early on a Saturday for most people's standards. After working a full and demanding week she still couldn't unset the morning routine she had developed. She didn't fight it by struggling to force herself to stay in bed she instead used it on her weekends to stay in good health. She pulled on some shorts, a cut-off shirt and tied her hair into a loose ponytail. Once her blonde mane was tamed, she placed on a baseball cap and began to stretch.
She recalled Miranda's yoga theory. She didn't think it was far-fetched that it gave you a chance to relax and be one with yourself and all that jazz. She just found the entire thing ridiculous. Posing and breathing and such. She preferred to jog in brief stints depending on her mood. If she had a bad day, she would run until her lungs burned. But she was in a pleasant enough mood, so she'd take a few laps around the neighborhood, maybe she'd even make a brief detour to the park.
Arizona strapped her iPhone in place in the holster on her arm. With her ear buds in place she walked outside and did another quick round of stretching. She started a slow jog from her door but paused before heading out to the sidewalk. It was then that she spotted her trashcan lid forced shut and bulging with the very same shade of trash bag she had encountered before.
She slowly reached for the handle to pop open the can but before she could even apply enough pressure it sprung open and caused her to jump back, shrieking loudly. A neighbor peeked over to see what the commotion was, but she waved them off with a false smile. Once they were gone her full focus was on the trash and she wasn't shaking it off this time. She was furious.
She untied one of the bags and reached inside. An old cup with the Daily Grind in some ridiculous font. She placed it back in and found a bill with an address sent to someone named Mark Sloan. She withdrew the letter and secured the lid again before thinking of her next move. Should she call the police? No, that'd be a tad dramatic. What about the waste department? She rolled her eyes. That wouldn't do any good, they just dump it they don't manage it. Then it dawned on her. It was her weekend and she had all day to herself. She wasn't going to call some buffer; she was going to go right in there and give this Sloan guy a piece of her mind…or at least come to some sort of amicable agreement.
After googling the address on her iPhone she quickly discovered the place of business was not too far away from her home. Even more evidence to her claim, she had just brought the bill along to further cement the truth if some misunderstanding should occur.
She approached the building and nearly scoffed at the environment she was about to enter. She pushed past the double doors and observed the coffee shop. Hipsters. Hipsters in all shades, shapes and varieties. She never understood this new 'type' of person. Just young people with no imagination who couldn't come up with anything new, so they shamelessly ripped off popular trends at random from the past forty or so years.
Several ironic shirts later she finally found someone who looked like they had taken a bath or at least could communicate without mentioning some band or using some lingo she couldn't understand.
"Excuse me; I'm looking for Mark Sloan."
He pointed in the direction of a tall, striking man leaning against a counter and engaging some beautiful young girl in conversation, without even looking up from his Ipad.
She gave the young man a firm nod and tightened the bill in her hand. Once she was close enough to him she waited for his attention to turn away from the girl he was speaking with.
"Excuse me." She said with a soft smile, trying to remain cool.
The two kept talking until she raised her voice a few octaves to gain the man's attention. "Excuse me."
His eyes snapped over to her and he smiled. "How can I help you?"
"Mark...Sloan right?"
He nodded acknowledging that was indeed his name.
"Can we speak somewhere in private please?"
He turned his attention back to the young blonde he was speaking to and softly caressed her shoulder. "I'll be back in just a few, okay?"
He stood upright and walked behind the counter where Arizona joined him and handed him the bill with his name on it.
"How did you get this?"
"That's what I'd like to know. I think someone from your store has been dumping your garbage near my home."
"Impossible." He stated pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"Excuse me...what?" She asked in disbelief.
He cleared his throat and added cream to his coffee. "Let me explain it in a way you'll understand. There is no way my trash ended up at your home, because I have my own dumpster. Go to the back of the store and take a peek outside. Not only do I have a dumpster, I have two. Two dumpsters secured by lock and key, so you must be mistaken."
"Mistaken? I have a letter with your name and address on it Mr. Sloan. I don't think I'm mistaken, I think maybe you need to check with your employees and get to the bottom of why exactly your waste is ending up at my home."
"Listen lady, I'm not on trial here. I don't have anything to prove. You have the burden of proof and a coffee soaked bill just isn't going to cut it for me. I'm not trying to be rude…"
"But you're accomplishing it. You're not trying to be rude Mr. Sloan but you are being completely impartial to the fact that I have for the past four days had to deal with your things. So I'd appreciate it if it would stop."
Mark placed down his coffee and chuckled. "You can't barge into my shop and tell me what has and what hasn't been going on here. I don't even know you. You sure as hell don't know me and I refuse to sit here and be scolded."
"I am not scolding you. I'm making you aware of things that are happening at your own business. Maybe if you weren't busy flirting with your patrons, you would know what's going on here."
Mark walked away from her but Arizona followed waggling the bill as she spoke. "I should report you to the Better Business Bureau."
Mark instantly turned his smirk replaced with a more serious expression. "And I should report you to the crazy house, because you're not hearing me lady. Dumpsters in the back, I can't be responsible for my customers putting things in your trash."
"And customers can dump your bills? What do you use them as coasters because it's much too conformist to use actual ones?"
Callie finally looked up from finishing up her latest lunch item she was offering on the menu. It was a more adult tomato soup and cheese sandwich. A tomato fennel blend that would be accompanied by a sourdough sandwich pressed with mozzarella, harvarti and basil. She heard raised voices and cracked the kitchen door to see what was going on. A small blonde and mark were standing toe-toe arguing furiously. The blonde poked his chest with a piece of paper in hand letting him have it.
The blonde was scowling, but despite this she was still gorgeous. She had a short blonde ponytail peeking from the back hole of a baseball cap and magnificent blue eyes. She was cute and had the kind of build Callie liked, the type of girl with a little meat on her bones.
She didn't have long to take in the beauty before more shouting was heard from the pair in the middle of the room. She cracked the door and tried her best to focus on the argument between the two. She needed to judge the situation before she walked out there and intervened; she had to defend her friend. Hot or not, she wasn't going to sit back too much longer while he was being berated in his own place of business.
"Are you out of your mind? I'm not the crazy one here. You're crazy and every one in attendance thinks you're crazy." Marks stated firmly.
"Crazy…is not listening to logic. Which you are blatantly ignoring."
"What did you read that in a magazine when you were getting fitted for your Sketchers?"
"Oh, now were moving to personal attacks! How very big of you. But I shouldn't expect more from someone who illegally disposes of their trash on someone else's property.
Callie closed the crack in the door and stepped away now realizing what the argument was over. She shrank a little bit deeper into the kitchen. This is the last thing she needed right now. Mark would surely question her, and she wasn't the best liar. But with her recent behavior she would have to this time. She knew Mark had patience when it came to her, but she wasn't going to allow it to run too thin.
Mark burst into the kitchen and slammed his fist on the counter.
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Callie asked going back to prepping lunch.
"Some maniac flounces into my shop and accuses me of dumping crap on her property and then calls me a liar?"
Callie gasped dramatically. "No."
"Yes. Me. Mark Sloan. The most honest guy you'd ever want to meet."
She cleared her throat as he combed a hand through his hair.
"Okay, maybe not the most honest guy but I do what I can."
"Did you at least you know..." Callie nibbled at her bottom lip. "...hear her out."
"I don't have time for this, she blew everyone's mellow the moment she walked through the door. I mean who causes a stir over an overstuffed waste bin, huh?"
"I mean, it's her bin Mark." Callie quietly remarked.
"Whose side are you on here?!" He exited the kitchen and Callie couldn't help feel guilty. Sure it was no big deal to Mark, but what he didn't know is that someone had indeed done the crime. And he was so loyal and so steadfast in his beliefs he never even questioned her. She didn't want her stupidity to harm Mark in any way so she had to find a way to resolve this before it got to far out of hand.
x-One Man's trash-x
Calliope stood on the strange woman's door her arm poised slightly to knock. Just when she was about to she lowered her arm and walked away mentally cursing herself for getting herself in this situation to begin with. She had helped Mark close up and he was back to his normal, easy going self but still she felt like she needed to tie up any loose ends if anything were to become of it.
Halfway back to her bike she turned back around and headed for the door again.
"You can do this Callie." She stood near the door and raised her arm again but hesitated. "Nope, can't do this." She power walked away from the door before grunting and turning back to it again knocking before she psyched herself out of doing the right thing.
She knocked three times and waited for a reply.
Arizona looked up from her book when she heard the knock at her door. She didn't get many visitors, let alone at this hour. She placed the novel to the side, got up from her couch, then opened the door. She wasn't expecting to be greeted by a fidgety dark haired woman, with an uneasy smile. She was unfathomably beautiful though, with raven hair and dark soulful eyes. Her smile was a little stiff but it was still remarkable and caused Arizona to stare at her with what could have been mistaken as confusion. It wasn't confusion however, it was just plain awe.
"Hello." Callie sing songed but quickly regretted it.
"Hi." Arizona said, still standing in the doorway.
Silence.
Callie only saw a glimpse of the woman from far away; up close she was even more dazzling.
"I-I should let you know something. Something about what happened today."
Arizona folded her arms across her chest and listened attentively.
"I um, I uh…" She gulped. "You should know that…I work at the Daily Grind and..." She trailed off and suddenly her feet seemed more interesting than the topic she had started. She looked up and nervously tucked her hair behind her ears.
Arizona stepped aside and gestured for the woman to come inside. "I'm not sure what exactly is going on here. And it looks like you're having a bit of trouble…I..." She shrugged slightly, still baffled by the encounter.
"If this is about earlier, I'm sorry for the explosion. I had no intention of making a scene, but that guy is a total douche so…he definitely didn't help the situation."
Callie again nervously tucked stray wisps of hair behind her ears and nodded along in agreement. "He's an ass, but he's also a really great guy too. Once you get to know him."
"Getting to know Mr. Sloan is definitely not on my to do list." Arizona said shaking her head to affirm her statement. "That offer to come inside is still on the table."
Callie stepped forward but remembered the woman seemed a little particular about her personal space earlier.
"I don't know. I don't really know you, not sure if you're going to go all Aileen Wuornos on me. The next thing you know I'm on the nightly news and not at all for the reasons I had planned." She snorted. Snorted.
Callie mentally face palmed.
To avoid even more failures in her communication she stepped inside and was bowled over by the eloquence of this woman's home. It looked like she had ripped several pages out of Better Home and Garden and told whomever to make it happen. The lighting was perfect; the furniture was chic but didn't yell pretention. It was the home Callie may have thought her and Erica would have shared. Down to the refrigerator doors that looked like cabinets and the outside patio that was decorated with the most beautiful plants she'd had ever seen.
Once Calliope was a good bit of distance in the woman's home, she made a slow circle and smiled.
"Okay, your house is freakin' unbelievable."
Arizona walked past her and headed for the kitchen.
"Thank you." She replied modestly, as she opened her refrigerator doors and took out a clear pitcher filled with fresh pink lemonade and whole berries. She poured a glass for herself and held the pitcher in the woman's direction. "Lemonade?"
"Mhmm." Callie replied as she walked towards the kitchen and stood in front of the blondes counter. Once she received her lemonade she took a sip. "I didn't even know houses like this were real, let alone this close to the Daily Grind. I mean I know this house existed, which is why I'm here and…" She took another sip of lemonade to stop her rambling. "Okay, this lemonade is...I think it's the best lemonade I've ever tasted."
Arizona took a sip of her own and drew a playful circle of over the rim. "I can see you're very enthusiastic about homes and lemonade." She ended the statement with a slight giggle.
Callie's smile brightened. At least the woman was smiling, maybe it would lighten the news she was about to receive.
"Yes, consider me a connoisseur."
"Okay, connoisseur." She grinned again and for the life of her she didn't understand when she had gotten so…smiley. "What's up?"
"Oh nothing much. Just attempted sex last night, which was a huge fail and then I…" She paused, her eyes shifting slightly. "You mean in regards to the stranger standing in your kitchen…"
"Yeah, I was hoping you could shed a little light on that situation."
Callie sighed and took another drink of lemonade before placing it down on the counter in front of her. "You're not a crazy lady. Clearly you've got a really well-to-do life going on and you're obviously balanced."
Arizona tilted her head slightly in bewilderment.
"Were all a little crazy one way or another, right? Maybe it's a nervous tick or a hatred of something small with no real reason to hate it…but in this specific instance you had every reason to be upset. Because I did it. I've been dumping trash from the Daily Grind…here.." She finished pointing towards the other woman's floor.
Arizona's eyes went a little wide and she leaned forward just a bit. "Whoa wait, you did it?"
Callie nodded her head erratically. "Yeah, yeah it was me. I've been going through a lot with…my life. And this has nothing to with you; you're just an innocent bystander in my serial trash dumping. And Mark's my best friend. I've been coming in like really late, super late. And I keep forgetting my dumpster keys. So I set my mind to look for the keys…" Her eyes fell on the shorter woman's again. "…you are really pretty. Like drop-dead gorgeous..."
Arizona smiled curtly and took another drink of her refreshment.
"So I've been running late and I keep forgetting to look for the damn keys and in my haste, it somehow slips my mind. And Mark's a cool guy but the tardiness and now with the losing of the keys…I just don't want to keep screwing up…so I saw your trashcan and I just started dumping it there. And it looks really great on the outside and I figured it was just a good spot."
"Let me get this straight. You saw my house and immediately thought of a landfill?" Arizona questioned a look of puzzled amusement on her face.
"Sort of...but not in an offensive way…almost like a…you'd give it a good home kind of way." Callie stated, ending the sentence with nervous laughter. She fidgeted with the zipper on her jacket slightly waiting for the other woman to react.
Arizona moved from her side of the counter to the side the dark haired woman was on and tapped the surfaced slightly. "So you were basically doing this to save your own ass."
"Which is extremely selfish and I'm really sorry."
Arizona laughed, maybe a little louder then she originally intended. She just found the entire situation so odd, so it was the best response she could offer. "It's okay."
Callie let out a huge sigh of relief and smiled broadly. "It won't happen again. I promise, you'll see no more trash…or me around." She moved towards the door and the blonde followed. She turned and handed the cup to her. "Here's your glass, for your amazing house and…smile…your smile is just…" She pointed awkwardly towards the door. "I should go..."
Arizona cupped both of the glasses in either hand and watched the girl stand in front of her. Before she knew it the girl had closed the space between them and placed a soft kiss to her lips. Her eyes instinctively closed and she marveled at the pleasant feel of the girls plump, warm lips on her own. It had been awhile since she had felt a kiss like that; it had been awhile since she had kissed at all.
Callie backed up slowly her hands in the air. "I am so sorry, that was completely inappropriate. I don't even know who you are, let alone your sexuality. I mean I've invaded your personal space twice in a matter of hours." She cupped her forehead with her palm. "That was just an incredibly crazy thing to do, and I can understand if you want to call the police or…"
Arizona swiftly placed the glasses on the countertop beside her and moved closer to the woman. She was slightly taller, so she had to boost herself slightly for leverage when she returned the kiss. She angled her head slightly and planted a kiss to the stranger's lips. She had her eyes closed but she could feel the brush of her mystery woman's eyelashes against her face, signifying hers had just followed suit.
She captured her bottom lip, then her top and felt a strange dip in her stomach when the other woman moaned with the contact. She felt her arms wrap around her shoulders and she in turn snaked her arms around the woman's waist. They broke a part for a few seconds, each not sure, but welcoming the uncertainty.
Callie parted her mouth with her tongue slightly and was very surprised that her blonde stranger reciprocated by pressing her tongue into hers. She had of course kissed strangers before, but not under these circumstances and certainly not like this. She removed her arms from around the woman's shoulders and met the ones she had linked around her waist. She applied a bit of pressure and slid the woman's hands down to her ass and cupped them there.
Arizona was taken aback by her forwardness but happily obliged. She backed her up to the counter and with a bit of assistance from her, hoisted the girl up and slid in between her legs.
"I've never done this before...the whole..." She felt the other woman tug forcibly on her bottom lip and moaned. "...stranger thing…"
Callie pulled back just a bit, long enough to get a word in before her lips met the other woman's again. "We don't have to be strangers then." She said as she moaned into another kiss.
Arizona was trying to focus on a line or mode of conversation but honestly her only concern was how fast she could close the distance in between their lips the fastest. "What's your name?"
Callie pulled back far enough from her lips to laugh. "Guess."
"Guess?" Arizona asked with another soft chuckle. "I don't know…Tara?"
"That would be a bad ass name." She stopped the kiss to shoot a smoldering look in the blonde's direction as she unzipped her jacket and exposed sun kissed skin. Arizona helped her pull it the rest of the way down her shoulders. She slid her hand up the woman's thigh and to her breast that she cupped gently while pulling her in for another smooch.
"I am so truly confused." She said against the strangers lips.
"Me too." Callie reciprocated the kiss and tugged at her own shirt leaving her in nothing but her bra. "But we don't have to be confused and strangers." She laughed and pulled back again extending her hand to the woman she was locked in an embrace with.
"Calliope." She never gave her full first name. But then again she didn't make out with random people over trash cans either, so she guessed there was a first time for everything.
"You have a beautiful name. Mine's Arizona." She replied bypassing her hands to properly greet her for the first time with her lips instead.
"Like the state?" She questioned as her lips trailed to the woman's neck.
Arizona groaned under the contact and shimmied further in between the woman's legs. "Mmm, no like the battleship…long story." Arizona took a moment to observe the woman and noticed she looked a bit younger than her. "How old are you?" She prayed for at least 21.
"27, you?"
"35."
"So Arizona named after the battleship…" Calliope said in between another round of kisses. "…what do we do now?"
"Now?" She backed away from the counter and gave the younger woman time to hop down. "I'm not sure… I-I guess…"
"Which way is your bedroom?" Calliope questioned as she unfastened her pants and slid them down her body.
Arizona couldn't help but run her tongue across her lips when she saw the woman's body in full view. She was sex on a stick. "That way." She said sheepishly pointing towards her bedroom.
Calliope began walking, in just her bra and panties, to Arizona's bedroom and opened the double doors. She looked over her shoulder and smiled devilishly before entering. A few seconds later her bra sailed across the room and landed at Arizona's feet.
Arizona looked down at the bra and back up at her bedroom door. Inside was no doubt, a half-naked goddess waiting on her and all she could think about was bolting. Heading for the door and jumping in her car. She moved towards the exit of her home when matching panties connected with her shoulder.
"Cobwebs." She said quoting Bailey from the day before. She charged towards the bedroom and took her dark haired stranger. Over and over again.