A/N: I've been awful and haven't updated anything. I have been writing, though and just haven't felt ready to post anything. Here's something I thought up when I was listening to "Lost Dog" by Sarah Jarosz. Seriously, give it a listen and you'll hear what inspired this piece. I hope you like it.

I don't own The Fosters.

Stef's Denali was the only car on the road as she drove slowly, only a few feet of visibility, thanks to her brights. Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked across the dark, Arizona night sky. It was pouring rain.

'I'll stop at the next motel,' thought Stef. 'No one should be driving in this.'

About fifteen minutes later, she could make out a glowing yellow sign and a building. She turned on to the gravel and saw that she had stopped at George's Kitchen, a diner. It was empty, save for an employee or two. She'd left in a rush and was suddenly hungry. Deciding it was better than sitting in her car, she got out and dashed to the door.

"Callie J! We've got a customer!"

Callie looked up from counting the cash register drawer to see a woman rushing inside. "I've got it, Ellen!"

The bell rung as the blonde wiped her feet on the mat.

"Sit anywhere you like. I'll be with you in a moment," Callie told her politely as she put the money away.

"Thanks, no rush."

Callie went to wash her hands and bring her customer some silverware and a menu. She had chosen a booth toward the back, glancing out at the storm.

"Hi. Welcome to George's Kitchen. I'm Callie and I'll be taking care of you," the young woman introduced herself, setting the items in her hands down.

Stef smiled. "Hi, Callie. That's a pretty name."

"Oh, thanks. I like it well enough. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Coke products?"

"How 'bout a Coke?"

"Sure. Be right back."

Callie went to the kitchen and filled a glass with Coke and ice, bringing it back to her.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. I'll give you a few minutes to look over the menu."

"Is this place known for anything? What's your favorite thing on here?"

"Well, Ellen's biscuits and gravy are great and Ed makes the best pancakes I've ever had, but I'm partial to the turkey club sandwich, myself."

Stef mulled that over for a second. "That sounds good. I'll have that," she decided, handing back her menu.

"Do you want chips or fries with it?"

"Fries."

"Alright, Ma'am. I'll go put in your order and it should be out shortly."

"Great."

Callie went to the back and wrote out the order, pinning the slip near the door where the tickets were kept. "Ed, one TC with fries, please."

"You hungry again, Cal?"

Callie laughed. "It's not for me."

"Sure, sure," he winked. "One TC with fries," Ed repeated and got to work.

With that taken care of, Callie went back out to the dining floor and walked up to the blonde. She looked like she could use some company.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

Callie wanted to walk away, but something inside told her to try to make conversation. "So, I've never seen you here before. I never forget a face."

"Oh. Yeah, I'm just passing through. It's storming badly and I wanted to pull over, wait it out."

"Smart. Home, business, or family?"

"It's kind of a combination of the three, I think."

"Sounds complicated."

"Story of my life. Go ahead, have a seat, take a load off."

Callie smiled and slid in the other side across from the blonde.

"I'm Stef, by the way."

"It's nice to put a name to the face."

"Except I am Stefanie to my mother and my wife when she's mad at me."

Callie chuckled. "Understandable. So, where are you from?"

"I live in San Diego."

"California?"

"Yep."

"Got any kids?"

"Yes, five."

"Five. Wow."

Stef's smile was warm and genuine. "It's crazy, but we wouldn't have it any other way."

"I do wish I'd had siblings," Callie remarked. "It was lonely being an only child."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe it was for the best. Oh, I should refill your glass. One second."

Callie brought Stef some more Coke and sat back down. "What are your kids like? How old are they?"

Stef's face lit up again at the mention of her children. "Well, Brandon is our oldest. He's almost eighteen, a senior in high school. He's plays classical piano and he is amazing. He's my son from my previous marriage to his father. I met my wife when he was five and divorced Mike, my ex. I've been with Lena ever since."

"That's great."

"A couple years later, we took in Hispanic twins, Jesus and Mariana. They're sixteen. Jesus is a total jock, athletic. He wrestles at school and hangs at the beach with his friends. Mariana's my princess; a total girly-girl, but so smart, maybe too smart. She knows how to get what she wants. Next came our son, Jude, when he was nine. He's thirteen, almost fourteen now. He's sweet and kind. He loves to help Lena in the kitchen."

"That's a lot of teenagers in one house."

Stef laughed. "It is."

"That's only four kids. You said you have five."

"Our foster son, AJ, is a year younger than Brandon. He's the reason I'm out here."

"So, you and your wife are still foster parents?"

Stef nodded.

"Huh."

"What?" The blonde wondered about Callie's reaction.

"Nothing. I think that's really great. I'll go check on your sandwich; Ed should be done with it soon."

Stef saw that Callie looked flustered as she left for the safety of the kitchen.

Callie was able to compose herself before entering. "Is my order ready yet?"

"In a minute, keep your shirt on."

"If you insist, Ed. Is Ellen in the office?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I was just wondering."

Ed lifted a basket of fries out of the hot oil and put them on Stef's plate, taking it to the window.

"You're really gonna make me walk around to get it?"

"Yep. What do you think we're running, here?"

"Fine," she sighed as she left.

Ed rang the bell. "Order up. Turkey club with fries."

"Thanks."

Callie brought the plate of food to Stef's booth. "Here you are. Enjoy."

"Thanks. It looks good."

"Let me know if you need anything." Callie turned to leave her in peace.

"Wait."

"Think of something, Stef?"

"Stay and talk with me. I'd rather not eat by myself."

"Okay."

"So, what about you?"

Callie shrugged. "What about me?"

"What's your story?" Stef asked as she reached for the ketchup.

"Not much to tell."

"You're gonna have to do better than that. What's a young girl like you doing here? You're what, nineteen, twenty?"

"Eighteen."

"Ah. Not into the whole college thing?"

"It's complicated."

Stef smirked at her response. "I see. Are you from around here?"

"I last lived a couple hours' south."

"Last? Why the big move?"

"Is your foster son in trouble?"

Stef didn't miss Callie's avoidance of her question, but didn't say anything. "Yeah," she sighed. "I'm here to find him and hopefully convince him to come home. He's in Phoenix."

"Oh. You've still got a bit of a drive, then."

Stef had another bite of her sandwich. "This is really good."

"I'm glad you like it. I'll be sure to tell Ed. What's one more pump of air for his big head?"

Stef laughed and Callie joined in.

"So, who came looking for you?" Stef asked, turning the conversation serious again.

"What are you talking about?" Callie looked down.

"I can put two and two together. A cop learns to read between the lines. You were a foster kid, right?"

Callie nodded slightly. "Yeah," she answered quietly.

"For how long?"

"I was seven."

Stef indicated she was listening as she ate.

"My parents were killed by a drunk driver. There one day, gone the next. He only got six months in jail."

"I'm sorry."

Callie appreciated the empathy. "Thanks."

"What happened after that?"

"My grandma on my mom's side couldn't take me in, so, I was put in the system. Eight homes in nine years."

Stef paused at that. Something wasn't adding up. "Nine years?"

"I was sixteen when I ran away from my last home."

Callie couldn't believe she just admitted that to a stranger, to a cop. She found Stef so easy to talk to.

"Why?" Stef asked, even though she could probably guess the answer.

"A person can only take being smacked around for so long." Callie wore a tight smile and looked away. "I was tired of being treated like a monthly check."

"I can assure you, my wife and I aren't like that."

"No," the brunette agreed, "you're not. I can tell. You're one of the good ones."

Stef smiled a little at that.

"There's not many foster parents that would drive across state lines to find their kid."

"That's true. I didn't exactly leave Lena on the best terms, though." Her eyes filled with regret as she looked out at the rain.

"How come?"

"I had cancer and...I had to have both of my breasts removed."

"Oh, gosh. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It was caught early."

"That's good."

"My wife and I didn't agree on me leaving, but I did it anyway. The surgery really screwed with my head. I've been so angry. Angry that I got sick and had to lose a part of me. Angry that my wife didn't understand what I was going through. Feeling helpless after coming home from the hospital; my mom stayed to help me and the kids."

"At least you have family to be there when you need them."

"I don't want my wife to touch me. I feel ugly."

"For what it's worth, I don't think breasts make you a woman. It's all about how you feel. Your wife loves you no matter what. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health."

"I wish it were that simple," Stef sighed.

"Why isn't it? You love each other."

"We've gone through some hard times lately. She kissed another woman."

"Does she want to be with her instead?"

"She says she doesn't."

"Take her at her word. If she wanted to follow through on it, she would have."

"It's not that easy, kid."

The two of them were silent for a moment.

"I sort of felt like that after my adoption fell through. Ugly. Unwanted."

"What happened?"

"Don't know. Robert and Jill wanted to adopt me, and then, one day, my social worker pulled me out of school and put me in an emergency group home. That was it. No goodbye, no explanation. I was eleven."

"That's terrible." Stef's heart went out to this girl; she'd been dealt a rough hand.

"They were good people. It was the nicest placement."

Callie had never told that to anyone, not even George and Ellen, who she'd known the longest here.

"How'd you end up here?"

"I saved up what I could from my job at Burger King. Most of it went to my foster parents. When I had enough, I left in the middle of the night and rode busses until I got off at the station a few miles down the road. Ellen knew I was a minor, but she gave me a job anyway. Washing, bussing, waitressing. I lived with her and George, her late husband, for awhile until I saved up to get my own place."

"Where's that?"

"The motel next to the gas station. Like, ten minutes from here."

Stef nodded.

"It's not much, but it's a bed and a shower, which is all I really need."

"Have you thought about school?"

"Ellen made me study and get my GED as soon as I could. I had to wait until my last birthday."

"She's a smart woman."

Callie grinned. "Ellen's great. George was, too. I owe them a lot. They've been really good to me."

"You deserve it."

Callie was unsure how to respond to that. She cleared her throat. "Well, you look like you're finished. Can I interest you in some dessert?" she wondered, once again in full waitress mode, standing and taking the empty plate.

"Since your entrée recommendation was so good, sure, why the heck not?"

"Ellen's peanut butter cream pie is the best. There should be some left. How 'bout it?"

"That sounds great."

"Okay."

Callie went to the case of pies near the door and set the generous slice in front of Stef. "Here you are."

Stef picked up a fork and took a bite. "Oh, wow. That is really good. Mm. My son Jude would love this. Is there any chance I could get a glass of milk?"

Callie chuckled. "Coming right up."

"Thanks." She took a drink to wash down the pie. "Peanut butter and milk, they just go together, you know?"

"Of course they do." She looked outside. "The storm's letting up."

"Ah, so it is."

Soon enough, Stef finished the pie and Callie cleared her table. "I hope everything was to your satisfaction."

"Oh, it was."

"Good. We aim to please around here. I can cash you out when you're ready."

Stef followed Callie to the cash register where she paid for her food.

"The pie's on me."

"That's not necessary."

"I insist. Thanks for the listening ear."

"Thanks for the company, really."

"Please, come back. We'd love to have you." Callie gave Stef her change, and then paused. "I hope you find your son."

"Don't give up on your future, Callie. You're young. You're smart. You can have whatever life you want."

"Talk to your wife."

Stef nodded. "Take care of yourself."

"You, too."

The blonde smiled and turned to leave.

Callie made a quick break for the restroom, clicking the lock, breathing heavily. She felt like crying. Why? Stef was a stranger to her an hour ago. No one. Just a paying customer. She did her job, Stef left happy, the end.

She hadn't cried in a long time. No one had ever really listened to her like that before. Admittedly, she'd never really given anyone a chance to. Maybe it was time to start.

Stef went to the window that peeked into the kitchen. "Excuse me."

"Ma'am, you can't be back there," Ed answered.

"You're Ed, right?"

He nodded.

Stef pulled a fifty-dollar bill from her wallet. "Can you make sure Callie gets this?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I will." He took it from her and put it in his apron pocket. "You have a good night, now."

"Same to you."

Stef left the diner and walked to her car, stopping to look back through the window. Callie was busy bussing her table.

"Good luck, Callie," Stef said to the wind.

"Hey, Callie J."

"Yeah?"

Ed held out some money for her.

"What, do you owe me or something?"

"The blonde wanted you to have that."

Callie took it. Fifty dollars. It was the biggest tip she'd ever received.

She turned around to see Stef's SUV pulling out on to the road.

She smiled.

A/N: So, what did you guys think? Let me know. I'm tossing around the idea of a sequel-ish thing to this or making it a full story. Holler if you're interested.