"We… shouldn't," she says hastily. But it's forgotten just the same as she's thrown down forcefully onto the bed beneath her. The mattress creaks as she crawls on top of her and continues to kiss her, bruising and biting her lips again and again. She vaguely recalls the unnerving memories that on-call rooms give her, but things are moving too quickly for her to really process or think about it. It's all happening too suddenly. Impulsively.
But as impulsively as it starts, as quickly as she melts into her touch, so does her thinking begin. Her mind starts to race and she has to pull away from the searing kiss.
Her breath falters when she meets alluring eyes. "We shouldn't," she insists again, her tone failing her.
Arizona frowns and it's slight and pouty, and then she asks, "Why not?" and Callie can hear the surprise leaking through her seductive tone. Her blonde hair sticks to her forehead, and Callie can see the shimmer of sweat on it. It's familiar - the sweat and the damp hair and the seductive eyes, and she wants to brush it away - not just the hair, but all of it. She's hovering over her, though, so she can't. Instead, blue eyes peer into her own in want of an answer.
Callie scoffs, "You're really asking me that?"
"I've learned not to ask, just do."
"That's become your philosophy, huh?"
Arizona looks wounded by the inquiry. "If we talk, it's going to…" she starts, but trails off, as if already wary of the loaded question.
Callie answers without really answering, "I know that."
"So keep quiet," Arizona maintains, "and let me fuck you."
Callie says nothing, she just lets her, and before she realizes it, before she has time to, Arizona's sweaty forehead is against her own. Wet blonde hair dampens her own, and Arizona's lips and breathing and panting are on and in her ear. She's everywhere again, and it's hard to take in all at once. But Arizona keeps tugging at her lips, she keeps searching for more, and her fingers thrust deeper into her and Callie's heart keeps beating faster and faster until she loses her breath, until she loses herself.
She comes very hard and it's hot and sweaty and good, but far too familiar.
They don't talk about it.
Derek dies and everything changes, but nothing about them really changes.
They still don't talk about it.
They just continue, mostly in silence, mostly in impulsivity.
It happens again on the day of the funeral, though it shouldn't, though it shouldn't have ever happened, and Arizona knows it's fucked up, but she wants it anyway. It's she who searches for Callie this time, it's Arizona who finds her at the bench they used to eat lunch at so many years ago. Callie is draped in elegant black, looking as glorious as the woman she always was.
But she is surprisingly stoic and unflinching, and she glances over at Arizona when she notices her presence. Her eyeliner is bold and matches the darkness in her eyes. She turns her gaze away and looks at the setting sun instead, though she shifts to allow room for Arizona to sit.
But she doesn't sit. She walks to her, and stands next to her and watches the sunset with an unflinching Callie and a weakening resolve.
She feels the pangs again and the perpetual ache, and turns to leave, but Callie's hand pulls her back, and she is drawn to her and placed carefully on her lap. Callie looks up at her. She meets her eyes, but Arizona finds herself staring into an abyss.
She watches her for a moment. "Your hair is glowing," Callie tells her. Probably with the setting sun, she realizes.
Callie looks darker with Arizona's shadow cast over her, and the blonde smiles and puts her hands on her shoulders. "You look dark."
"I'm wearing black."
"So am I."
"Kiss me," Callie demands softly, and Arizona wants to ask why, but doesn't bother as she's drawn to her lips again.
The kiss is soft and sweet and unwarranted given their position, given the realities of today and yesterday, and Arizona remembers this and tries to break away from it, but Callie pulls her back in with her hands on her cheeks, kissing her roughly this time and diminishing any softness that may linger.
Her tongue slips into her mouth and Arizona is squirming on her lap, so she reaches her arms around Callie's neck to steady herself. She is not surprised when Callie's hands move to her ass, squeezing briefly before pulling up her dress. She moans in her mouth before Callie breaks away to breathe.
"Pull your straps down," Callie says.
She pulls the shoulder straps of her dress down her arms and Callie pushes her face into her chest. Arizona wants to make a snarky comment about how eager the brunette is, but nothing comes.
"Should I off take my-" Arizona starts to ask, but Callie answers for her, ripping her stockings in search of her heat.
"Are you wet," Callie inquires, though she doesn't really ask it like a question - she hasn't really been asking questions, she doesn't really do it at all, Arizona realizes. She doesn't let Arizona answer, and the blonde figures she doesn't expect one, since Callie's hand slips into her panties to discover the answer herself. "You are," she smiles.
She plunges inside of her before Arizona has a chance to breathe, and her moan comes out as a choked exhale as she presses her forehead against Callie's.
"Too fast," she breathes out.
"I haven't started moving yet."
"You can move," Arizona allows.
"No," Callie says. "I want you to do it."
Arizona steadies herself on Callie's lap again, and grips her shoulders carefully. She watches Callie's bold, resolute eyes as she begins to move against her hand.
"You feel hot," Callie says in a sober tone. Her eyes begin to soften, though they remain dark, but her voice is the same.
Arizona thrusts herself against her, bouncing on her lap, losing her breath and gasping out as Callie's other hand moves toward her breasts. She can feel Callie deep inside of her, but she can't do much to accelerate the feeling. Most of it is telling her to stop, but she doesn't.
Something makes her want to eventually, though, and as she begins to pull away, Callie pulls her back, bringing her thigh closer around her legs. Almost as if to say Don't go, she starts to thrust her fingers inside of Arizona, and it's hard and deep and it draws Arizona back into her, back into her arms, back against her forehead.
"You feel," she rasps out, "good."
"So do you," Callie whispers against her lips, and now her voice is soft and sad, but mostly reassuring. Arizona knows this voice the best.
She comes against Callie, she feels herself tighten around her fingers, and she wants to do more, she wants to say more, but the feeling is too good and steals her voice. Instead, she rests her head against hers, and closes her eyes, waiting for the wanting feeling to dissipate.
Callie's fingers remain inside her for a moment, but then they slip out, and Arizona feels Callie's hands on her again, fixing her clothes to their proper position. Arizona slides off of her lap and onto the bench, leaning back and breathing heavily.
Callie stands up and fixes her own ruffled clothing. Arizona feels her look over.
"You okay."
"Yeah," she pants as Callie moves away, "I'm just gonna… breathe."
"Okay."
And when she opens her eyes, she realizes that Callie has left and the sun has set.
It's only Easter when she sees Dan again, and she always seems to forget who he is, but now he's become a definite presence in her life. She finds him boring, but now he's kind of funny. He's different now, she thinks. Smiling and grinning despite his awful situation.
He claims that she'll fall in love with him. And all she can do is scoff.
Love is too hard right now. It's not on her mind. She doesn't want it to be.
And if it comes down to it, Callie doesn't mind quick fucking. Sure, things have changed for her. She was committed for the past several years, so things have definitely changed. But she still doesn't mind it.
She doesn't mind quick fucking, she thinks, watching Arizona shuffle into the storage closet.
When she follows in behind her, Arizona is in the midst of searching for something. She stares at her back, and she's almost tempted to mention Dan, mention his situation, just for the sake of talking about the day, about something.
Something to shake the gloom and emptiness of the hospital.
She is tempted to wrap her arms around her, to surprise her in some way, and then kiss her neck to calm her down. But she doesn't.
Instead, she shuts the door so it slams slightly, and Arizona jumps from the sound and turns to look at her.
"Callie?"
"Do you have time?"
"I do."
She has sex with Arizona standing against the door, and it's really nothing new, but the blonde looks eager and into it and it makes her heart tremble a little too hard.
Love? She doesn't want to think about love. Not now.
But she still invites Arizona over for, what she calls, a family dinner.
It doesn't take long for it to become habit, and on July 4th, she almost calls the sex "fireworks," or something similarly worthy of such description, but it's mostly nostalgia that makes her think so. It's also stupid and cheesy and a little bit too passionate, so she holds her breath and sips on wine instead.
But she blurts it out two glasses later, and Callie watches her for a moment before laughing a little too hard, and she feels reluctant and embarrassed to have said it in the first place.
Callie watches her and grins before standing to search for more wine, and the heart flutters come again, and then she realizes that she isn't supposed to be here drinking Callie's wine and sitting on Callie's couch in Callie's house. Sofia's asleep and they're not fucking, so she sees no reason to be there. Decidedly, she places her empty glass on the coffee table and gets up to leave.
Callie comes out of the kitchen before she can successfully get her shoes on, though, and she curses herself for not getting up sooner.
"Where are you going?" Callie asks. She sounds offended.
"Home," she tells her.
"This is your home, you know."
The words shake her, suddenly, and she wants to cry.
"I shouldn't stay."
"This is your house."
"Callie-"
"Stay," she tells her, and she feels Callie wrap her arms around her, pulling her back. Always pulling her back. "Stay."
It was gradual, but she stayed one night and not another and they stopped having sex, as if some consumable silence took hold of them. She fell asleep in her arms and disappeared in the morning. It suddenly became silent.
Boundaries, Callie forgets.
On Halloween, Callie takes Sofia out trick-or-treating and she mostly feels sad and empty at Sofia's inquiries.
It takes a little too long, and she's upset and wants to break things.
Callie's father comes to town for Thanksgiving, so Arizona decides to stay at Alex's.
She is tempted to go home too, but she keeps forgetting what the word means. She wants to know what it means.
She pokes at the burger in front of her, disappointed and unnerved.
"If you're not gonna eat it, I'll take it," Alex tells her, grabbing at it before she can respond.
"Yeah," she says.
They have a fight, or are having a fight, but it's not a fight, and they spend their holidays separated like a proper divorced couple.
When Arizona comes to pick Sofia up on Christmas day, the brunette attempts to retain her stoicism.
"I still have your stocking," Callie tells her. "Do you want it back?"
"What?" Arizona asks. She looks over at the fireplace and frowns.
"I'm surprised you didn't throw it away."
"Why would I throw it away?"
"You threw our marriage away," she tells her, and Callie feels the blood boil in her veins, as Sofia scampers down the stairs. Arizona slips beside her and meets her daughter at the staircase, her voice flowery and excited again.
Callie says goodbye to Sofia, but it feels tense and artificial and she lets out a sigh of relief when Arizona leaves.
"I didn't throw our marriage away," she tells Arizona as she enters the room.
Arizona looks up from her journal, surprised by Callie's sudden presence. Her mascara is ruined, as if she'd just been crying.
Arizona smiles and looks back down at the journal. "I know you didn't," Arizona says, "we both did."
"We did," Callie agrees. "The bionic leg works."
"Really?" Arizona looks up.
"Completely."
Arizona smiles and shuts the journal and looks at Callie from the door. Her eyes move to the door, and taking the signal, Callie shuts it.
"Can I…" Callie starts, "kiss you again?" Before Arizona can answer, before she can give the apology she's been waiting to deliver, Callie adds, "I won't tell you to stay this time."
"Okay," Arizona says. "But what if I want to stay?"
"Then," Callie says, drawing closer to her before settling gently on her lap, "you can."
On Valentine's day, she asks Arizona if she remembers their first Valentine's day.
"Do you still have the necklace?" she asks.
"Of course I have the necklace," Arizona tells her.
They are in Arizona's bed in Alex's house, staring at the ceiling and lost in thought.
"Alex found Meredith," Callie informs her.
"I heard."
"She had another baby. She was pregnant."
"Yeah."
"Would you have left if I died?" Callie asks.
She feels Arizona take her hand in her own, gripping it tightly. Fiercely.
"Never," she says, "never."
She wonders if she understands what she means.
They continue like newfound lovers, bracing in the excitement of sex and thrills.
It's some kind of thing. Not marriage, not dating.
Maybe love. Always love, Arizona thinks.
Amelia's rant about love makes her think deeper, makes her regret even telling Callie to go for that pretty new intern. Callie doesn't address it, and they don't see each other until after Webber's wedding.
But she does finally see her, when Callie barges into the bathroom as she goes in.
"I need to pee. Can't you wait?" she asks.
Callie frowns and leans against the door as Arizona slips off her panties.
"Well, definitely not a turn on."
"What?" Arizona asks.
"I thought we could fuck in here."
"And I thought that I could pee without you watching me."
"I've done it before."
"That's when we were married."
There is silence as Callie only continues to frown at her, and Arizona frowns back and pulls her underwear back on, her urge to pee suddenly gone. She reaches for the doorknob, but Callie is still in her way, so she looks up at her and into her eyes.
"What?"
"You really want me to get in that?"
"What?"
"I'll do it, if you want me to. If you don't care. What's the point of this?"
"That's not what I-"
"Will you tell me?" Callie asks, clutching at her shoulders. Her eyes are wide and worried and vulnerable. "Will you tell me what the point of this is?"
"Callie-"
"You have to tell me," she says, her voice tense and shaky, "because I don't know how to stop loving you."
Arizona feels a lump in her throat, and though her heart is throbbing incessantly, it feels heavy. "I don't know either," she tells her, her voice just as soft, "I never stopped."
"I love you, Arizona."
Arizona reaches out and grabs her neck and kisses her hard. Callie slips her tongue into her mouth and pushes her back against the door. They kiss and kiss and lose their breath, and Callie pulls up Arizona's dress.
"I love you too, Callie."
They part ways after their encounter in the bathroom, and Arizona spends the rest of the night comforting April.
I know, I know. I do.
She does know. She knows how it feels to have loved and lost.
So does Callie, she thinks, watching her now as she slips on her heels.
"My feet are blistered," she tells Arizona.
"Can I come with you?"
"Hmm?"
"To the house, I mean."
Callie smiles. "Our house?"
"Our house."
And she is relieved when she parks her car in the driveway and finds Callie standing at the door, waiting for her barefooted and in pajamas. Callie kisses her in greeting, and takes her hand, leading her inside.
"Callie," she calls out, her hand tightening around hers, "Callie."
"Yeah?"
"You're my home."