AN: I think this makes it official... I am returning to fanfiction. A dear, amazing, wonderful friend finally convinced me that I had to catch up on Grey's Anatomy after two and a half seasons away from it and, well, she was (as always) correct. I've recovered (only slightly) from my devastation over certain things and instead have fallen head first into writing again, as well as going back through all my favourite authors and reading all of their fics.
I started thinking about this fic tonight in my fandom-fuddled daze and decided to dig around to see if I could find it. Turns out, I'm not entirely sure I ever shared it with anyone (besides the phenomenal TheQueenMermaid). But I wrote this piece in September of 2013 and I decided tonight to share it. (There is a 90% guarantee that I will be back in the next few days with a part two.) I hope you enjoy it... and seriously, listen to the song because what you remember from your childhood of the Spice Girls is vastly different from what you'll hear as an adult. So. Hot.
HOLLER by J.M. Flowers (September, 2013)
She enters with her usual vigor, door slamming shut of its own accord, keys dropping noisily onto the counter followed by the audible thump of a purse hitting the hardwood floor. "Arizona," she calls, kicking off her shoes behind the couch.
Splashing water guides her into Sofia's bathroom, where the toddler is playing happily in a few inches of bubbles. Arizona sits on the lid of the toilet, head leaned back and resting on the wall. Her eyes have fluttered shut with the weight of a twenty hour day and the smell of lavender bubble bath sitting heavily in the air.
Callie greets their daughter first, dropping a kiss onto soapy dark locks; Sofia pays her no mind, groggily entranced by a new rubber duck that squeaks when she tilts it. A hum pressed gently against her wife's pink lips pulls sleepy blue eyes up to her smiling face.
"Hi," Arizona sighs, hands finding purchase on a pair of denim clad hips. "I missed you." (And, truly, she had, never ending 9-1-1 pages stealing them from plans to meet for lunch and coffee and, later, an early dinner. They'd just had glimpses of each other across the emergency room - at most - all day.)
Callie murmurs her agreement, leaning forward for another kiss before slipping her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. "I brought you a gift," she smiles, popping the device into the iPod dock that resides on the counter for bath-time sing-alongs.
"What is it?" Arizona whispers, sliding her hands down Callie's strong thighs. She resists the urge to pull her onto her lap.
"A song," Callie buzzes, peeking over her shoulder at a still-occupied Sofia. She drops her voice slightly when she turns back, leaning closer. "It made me think about you; what I want to do with you."
Arizona's breath hitches, eyeing the gentle roll of hips telling her exactly what her wife means. "What you want to do tonight?" she asks.
Callie nods, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. "I'm gonna get Sof into bed - you just sit here and listen, okay?" She turns around, feeling eyes follow her as she bends down to lift their daughter out of the bath and wrap her in a towel. She grins when she sees Arizona out of the corner of her eye, swallowing roughly, and presses play without comment before carrying their toddler out to her own bedroom.
Arizona chuckles lightly, surprised by the selection. She'd expected something grungy - dirty sexy, like Callie tends to be between the sheets. Instead, she's having flashbacks of her years in college: dancing in her bedroom to the radio. This song hadn't seemed quite so raunchy back then, but of course it hadn't included the implications set by a certain Calliope Torres.
She brightens the screen, giggling again because her big, bad, rock star wife really has chosen a song by... The Spice Girls. The chorus picks up, dragging her focus back to the task at hand.
I wanna make you holler, and hear you scream my name. Instinctively, the heat at her center rises, images of Callie grinding against her jumping to the forefront of her mind. Imagine us together, me driving you insane. You will give in to me.
Arizona groans, tipping her head back as another wave of desire burns a path through her stomach. She stands quickly, stopping to lean in the doorway and watch as a nightgown is pulled over Sofia's head.
Callie looks up, smirking. "Okay, Sof," she whispers against sleepy-warm baby skin, "Mama is really tired so you have to snuggle down like a big girl and go to sleep, so I can go tuck Mama into bed, too."
Sofia eyes them both carefully, eyelids already drooping as she's lifted into the crib that will soon be replaced by a day bed. "Mami," she mumbles, "Mama, love you."
"Love you, too, big girl," Arizona swears, rushing forward to place a kiss on one cheek while Callie claims the other. With a brief interlude to drain the bathtub and grab the phone from the dock, they flick off the lights throughout their apartment and retreat to their own room.
The door clicks shut, Arizona's back hitting it soon after. "Spice Girls, Calliope?" she teases, head tilting as her wife latches her lips onto her neck, humming in response. "I thought you were dirtier than that."
Callie grunts, disconnecting her mouth to speak but letting her hands continue to wander. "Please, have you heard '2 Become 1?' Girl power was always synonymous with sex."
"Making love," Arizona corrects, pushing her hips forward.
"Whatever," Callie mutters, tugging at the bottom of Arizona's shirt.
Arizona shakes her head, removing Callie's hands from her waist and lifting them towards her face. "Aren't you forgetting something?" she purrs, nudging her center against Callie's hips again and earning herself a pleasingly disgruntled moan.
"What?" Callie whimpers, trying to regain control of her limbs.
Arizona smirks, releasing her grip on tanned skin to retrieve the phone from where it was unceremoniously tossed on the floor. She hooks it into the other iPod dock on their dresser, pressing play before pulling off her shirt to reveal a pink satin bra. She mouths the words as they escape from the speakers.
I wanna make you holler.
Imagine us together.
Don't be afraid to play my game.
Callie closes the distance between them in half a beat, tossing her own shirt behind herself and pressing their skin together. She bites at Arizona's lips, stopping the lip synched serenade so she can taste the curls of her tongue.
Arizona buries her hands in dark brown hair, letting strands slide between her fingers and gently cool her heated skin, combing her way through so the curls wrap around pale skin and tickle her palms. Fingers wander lower, massaging into Callie's neck before tracing a path to the hooks of her bra. Arizona slips them out of the eyes one by one, feeling breasts loosen from their constraints and settle heavily against her own. She steps out of the kiss, allowing space between them so she can ogle as Callie finishes the job, tossing her bra behind herself. It hits the door before dropping to the floor.
Arizona's thumbs stroke at dark, erect nipples, tingling as they swipe across the bumps of her areolas. "You know," she offers, "Ginger was always my favourite Spice Girl."
"Yeah?" Callie whispers, rubbing her fingertips along the vertebrae of her wife's bare spine.
"Yeah," Arizona continues, "The boobs were a big deal."
"Scary had boobs, too."
"Scary didn't wear spandex mini dresses," she admits, smirking at the validity of her confession. "Besides, Ginger's original name was Sexy Spice - they only changed it when they got all those little ears listening."
Callie chuckles, getting a cheeky grin flashed in her direction. "I was always more partial to Baby. The blue eyes, blonde hair; sweet and innocent. Beautiful."
Arizona blushes, ducking her head. "Thank you."
"Oh, you thought I was talking about you?" Callie teases, giggling when a hand smacks playfully at her arm. She quickly undoes her wife's bra in one fell swoop, throwing it over her shoulder so she can examine porcelain breasts. "Hmmm," she mumbles beneath a sighing breath. "Definitely better than Baby Spice."
A laugh fills the room, Arizona tumbling backwards onto the bed. Start from the bottom and work your way up slowly. Callie smiles, urging Arizona to lift her hips so she can slip her pajama pants down her legs. "I'm going to do just as Baby Spice says," she husks, lips brushing against the soft skin of pale cheek.
"Calliope?" Arizona interrupts, eyes closed as she chews on her bottom lip.
"Mhm?"
"Don't mention the Spice Girls anymore."
There's an almost imperceptible nod before she trails her fingers along the edge of bright pink panties, stimulating the sensitive skin. The underwear disappear over the edge of the bed in one quick action, leaving Callie gazing thoughtfully at already swelling labia. She settles herself over her wife, her jeans adding an extra element of friction between them as she grinds slowly into naked skin.
It earns her a completion of step one. "Calliope," Arizona hisses, clamping her jaw shut to lessen the noise.
"I wanna make you holler," Callie sings softly before capturing Arizona's mouth with her own. Her tongue dances across her bottom lip, curling gently to flick at the back of incisors. Her right hand dips lower, burning a path down Arizona's torso. She rips the button of her jeans open, slipping her hand beneath her underwear into the warmth of her own arousal.
Blue eyes open, feeling the change in pressure and watching as Callie's chest heaves above her with a shuddered breath. "Let me?" she whispers, following her wife's guiding hand to the space between her legs. Once again, her fingers slides through curls (though wonderfully different than before), feeling them rub against her palm as she swipes at Callie's clit. The groan that meets her ears serves to egg her on. "Take off your pants," she pleads.
Together, they tug the tight denim down Callie's legs, kicking the jeans to the growing pile on the floor. Arizona gently nudges a lacy black thong down tan legs, revealing her wife in all her glory. "Latin Spice," she kids, returning her fingers to play with the nub at Callie's center.
Callie's eyebrows furrow, her eyes clenched tight. "You said -"
"Shhh," Arizona whispers, nipping at the shoulder above, "Don't be afraid to play my game."
"So whatcha gonna do?" Callie adds on, thrusting towards the pulse of nimble fingers at her core. The answer is a plunge into her, fingertip curling along her walls. She manages a tiny moan as oxygen floods from her mouth in a sigh.
"Scream my name," Arizona directs, using her other hand to pull Callie's face closer to her own, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck.
"Arizona," Callie whimpers, still trying to catch her breath as her wife's skilled finger slips in and out of her, the gentle slap of juices just a faint melody while Arizona starts shallow.
A ring finger is added to the mix, curling deeper within warm depths. "Scream my name," Arizona requests again, using a thrust of her hips upward to give Callie an extra bit of pleasure.
Her actions are rewarded with a slightly louder, "Arizona."
One more push - hips included - and Callie lets out a scream.
"Arizona!"
"Mmm, thank you," Arizona whispers, biting gently into her wife's clavicle. She cools the spot with a swish of her tongue, letting it guide her way back up to Callie's ear. She tugs on the lobe with her teeth, burying kisses in the curve of her jaw.
They set a rhythm, grinding against each other, Arizona's hand still working at her wife's center. Each roll of Callie's hips knock Arizona's wrist into her own clit, her stomach clenching with arousal. Callie opens her eyes just in time to see Arizona bite down hard on her bottom lip. Instinctively, she sets her own hand against her wife's other set of lips, parting them to gather juices on her fingers. She slides her fingers into her carefully, trying not to startle her, but Arizona responds by wrapping her legs around her waist, pulling them tighter against each other.
Somewhere in the distance, the song begins a repeat. I wanna make you holler.