Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…
AN: Hey all! What's that? Two chapters in one day, you ask? No, you're not hallucinating! Haha. I decided to make up for the long wait (and lame-ish content the last chapter had) by posting another one for yall tonight. Enjoy!
Chapter 8
Arizona's POV:
Brown eyes stare across at me in wonder.
"Are you even breathing?" she asks.
I finally look up from my plate, and swallow the bite of biscuits and gravy I'm chewing on. "I'm sorry?"
"I'm just… I want to make sure you're not going to pass out here at my breakfast table."
"Be nice, Amy," Katie growls, playfully shoving her girlfriend while Katie continues to refill the three coffee mugs that are set out on the table. "Arizona always did have a thing for my biscuits and gravy." And I take the hint and slow down, forcing myself not to shovel in the whole biscuit in a single bite.
Three weeks. That's how long I've been stuck here in Sparks. Though 'stuck' isn't the right word. I've chosen to stay this long, because I was needed. But now I'm more than ready to go home.
"You want some more, Z?" Katie asks. "I made plenty."
"Oh, no, thank you. I think a dozen biscuits is quite enough," I reply with a smile. And as I take a sip of my piping hot coffee, I peek over the brim of the mug to see Katie and Amy share a quick peck. I haven't known Amy for long, but I approve. She's calmed Katie, somehow. Something the woman greatly needed.
"You really have to go?" Amy asks after a minute. "I heard a couple of the guys went hunting yesterday and bagged two good sized razorbacks. Betty's getting her smoker going and the lot of us are getting together."
"I know, I know. I'd like to stay but… I miss my girls."
"At least stay until lunch," Katie tries.
"I can't," I sigh. "The drive home is some 21 hours already. Plus I'm going to drop by T, check in and say good bye to him and his family. And that's two hours in the opposite direction, so four more hours. Add in pit stops and construction and… sleep? I'm looking at hitting Seattle tomorrow night, if I'm lucky."
It looks like Amy is winding up to rebuttal, but Katie puts a hand on her girlfriend's arm. "No use arguing, babe. She's as stubborn as a bull."
We spend another twenty minutes in polite conversation, and I thank them many more times over for allowing me to crash on their couch for the few nights that I did. I've been trying not to inconvenience anyone too long with my homelessness, and Katie and Amy's quaint in-town apartment was the last stop.
But then the time comes and I pack the last few things I have into the small duffel I've scavenged, and give the two women a hug. I thank Katie for everything. Since the storm she has really stepped up. It's almost as if the woman I knew all those years ago is no longer living within Katie's skin. It's someone brand new, more grounded, and less chaotic. This Katie I would welcome within my company in a heartbeat.
And, as it always is in small towns, there's no such thing as a quiet exit. As soon as I point the nose of my truck eastward out of town the people start to flag me down. I'm pulled from my truck numerous times, everyone wanting a hug and a special good-bye. They thank me for my help, and my kindness. For being the kind of light they needed during the darkest of Sparks days. But what touches me most are the ones who say, 'you done your folks proud, Z'. And if there's even a chance that that's true, that I've made my father proud, wherever he may be, then I'd do everything twice over again.
The two hours to Travis's mother's home passes quickly, and before noon I'm knocking on the front door. I'm greeted by Mrs. Wait, a woman I haven't seen in probably 15 years. But somehow she looks the exact same as she did the last time I saw her.
She herds me into her cluttered home and leads me to the living room, where I find my oldest and dearest friend kicking back in his late father's Lazy Boy.
"Looking good there, T," I play, making him look up and smile. "All you're missing is the beer gut and Cheetos dust in that bero pad of a beard you got growing."
Tim's been out of the hospital for little over a week, and he's doing well. His doctors were stunned that he had lasted as long as he did after the storm, but he did. Thanks to my wife, my best friend has the rest of his life back.
"Hey, don't you know it's rude to make fun of the crippled?" He jokes.
"Please… You really want to compare scars, big boy?" I reach down and grab my left pant leg and pull it up enough to expose the long surgical scar that runs nearly the length of my left calf, plus some incisions around both ankle and knee. "Because I'll kick your ass," I add with a cocky smirk that makes Tim chuckle.
"Oh! Oh, no. No laughing." He clutches his left side, where a very large and very pointy iron stake used to shish kabob him. "It hurts."
"Wuss," I say loud enough for only him to hear.
Hours pass in a flash amidst the atmosphere of family and friendship. And all too soon I have to say goodbye. I make Travis promise not to push himself, because he has his family who needs him. And I need him too. So he promises- not without some grumbling- and says that his butt will remain glued to that Lazy Boy until the doctor's say otherwise. And, just as if Travis were visiting my mother's house, Mrs. Wait insists that I not leave her home without something to eat. Even after I tell her I had enough breakfast for six people, she still won't take no for an answer. So by the time I'm back out in the truck I have a paper bag filled with four turkey, cheese, mayo, and mustard sandwiches, along with a bag of Cheetos just from Travis.
And so my long journey back home begins. Twenty three hours of just me, the radio, and the open road. It would have been so much faster flying but with the storm my driver's license disappeared; my only photo ID. And since I'm not back in Seattle to go get a new one in person I've got no way of acquiring one. So… I'm stuck driving. But it doesn't really bother me. I used to drive for days on end while on tour, and even before that. I can't count the number of hours I spent in the back of my parent's Jeep while they herded Tim and me around the state and around the region for tournaments. But even back then I was always heading away from home. I was running away from home, and I couldn't be happier about it. And now? Now home is the only place I want to be. It's funny how something as small as a family- a beautiful, loving wife and a beautiful, amazing daughter- can change my entire outlook on life.
I make pretty good time the first ten hours, only stopping once half way for gas and to stretch my legs, but just as I thought construction slows me down. I drive on into the night and let my mind wander with the passing landscape. The radio keeps me company and the cool air whipping in through the open window keeps me alert. With each mile that passes under my tires is another mile closer I am to Callie and Ali. I miss them so much it hurts, and I just want to get home.
At four in the morning I end up pulling over at a rest stop and grabbing a couple hours of sleep. My blinks were beginning to last a little bit longer than I was comfortable with, and I chose not to play with fire. I'd rather add a couple hours onto the drive than end up in a ditch somewhere. That'd be no good at all.
Blinding sunlight forces my eyes open yet again at just after 8 am, and by 8:15 I'm back on the road. I've passed through Wyoming, and Utah, and Idaho. Next comes Oregon. Then finally, at just after 1 in the afternoon, I hit the Washington boarder. My body tingles with excitement, and I find myself wondering just what kind of trouble my daughter has gotten into today. Or if she still hates tomatoes but loves ketchup. Maybe her favorite Disney movie isn't The Jungle Book anymore. Maybe it's Hercules, or Beauty and the Beast, or Toy Story. Maybe there's a whole new soundtrack that I now have to memorize so that Ali and I can sing together at bath times like we always do. With four year olds, you never know…
The last five hours drag on for what seems like another full 24 hours, but I make it. When I steer the truck off of blacktop and onto the long gravel drive of our home, it's like my whole body starts to buzz with excitement.
I half expect to be greeted out front, or even at the door. But as I turn my key in the front door and push into the warm of my home, I'm bombarded with some kind of song turned up loud. Really loud.
"Hello?" I call, but my voice is washed over with Gloria Estafan's Conga.
I trek deeper into the house, past the living room, and find the source of the music from the kitchen. There, next to the blaring radio, is Callie, apron tied about her body, and our little girl, sockless and dancing.
"Yeah, mija! Shake that butt of yours!" Callie yells over the music, adding her own special kind of salsa moves while she mans her station in front of the stove. And the sight of Ali doing her thing, shaking every little thing her Mommy gave her, is too precious.
Finally the little Salsa Queen turns around and finds me standing there, and she lets out the highest squeal I think I've ever heard. She takes off like a bolt and is pulled up into my arms the next second.
"This is some welcome home party," I play after Callie turns down the music. "Too bad I wasn't invited."
"What are you talking about? Why do you think we're dancing?" Callie purrs. Her hand cups my cheek and she pulls me in for a soft, sweet kiss. "Welcome home, cowgirl."
Ten seconds of kissing is enough mushy stuff for Ali, and she quickly redirects my attention from my wife to her. The four year old immediately launches in a detail account of her past three weeks. Even during dinner, which included several of my favorite dishes, Ali's mouth never turns off.
"Then Madison took my cookie and wouldn't give it back but then I told Ms. Jennifer and then I got it back. Madison was mad at me and it made me mad. She wouldn't play barbies with me."
I don't even get "Oh," in before her train of thought veers sharply to the left and she's telling me about a funny shaped rock she saw at the park one day.
Even once dinner is over and the three of us are in the living room, Ali just keeps talking, talking, and talking. And all I do is listen, and run my fingers through her hair. From the other end of the couch I catch Callie watching me more than once. She doesn't even try to hide it.
"Wanna play hide and seek, Momma?" Ali asks when it seems she's exhausted herself of topics to talk about.
"Momma's tire, baby," Callie tells her. "She was driving all yesterday and today just to be here to have dinner with us."
Her little ears perk up and she turns her big, brown eyes to me. "You not leaving again, are you?"
"No, Squirt. I'm not going anywhere. But how about we play hide and seek tomorrow, huh? That way I'll have all night to think about where I'm going to hide. And it's going to be somewhere so good that you won't be able to find me and then I'll be the Queen of hide and seek!" My fingers find Ali's ticklish underarms and I attack, sending squeals and laughter bouncing off every surface in the house.
Bedtime comes not long afterwards, which means another battle of getting an energetic and wound up girl to relax. But finally she does and, after many many kisses for both Ali and Geoffrey, I slip out of her darkened room and close the door to a crack.
"Thank you Lord…" I groan, shuffling into the ensuite master bathroom where Callie is busy washing her face. I flip on the water of my own sink and squeeze some toothpaste onto my brush. "My god, that girl can talk. I was about ready to give her some cookies just so she'd stop talking for a few minutes."
"What did you expect? She missed you." Callie steps up behind me, her hands on my hips and her lips centimeters from the naked flesh of my neck. "We both missed you." A shiver races down my spine at the touch of her lips against me. Brushing my teeth becomes so much more difficult as Callie's hands and lips grow bolder.
I finally just give up after losing count twice, and turn to face Callie so I may kiss her properly.
"Mmm…" my wife hums against me. "Minty." I'm pushed back against the counter, and with a gentle tug I hop up on it. And Callie gladly slips between my legs. Our lips meet again and again, our kiss never moving past teasing and playing, despite my wife's assistance in removing my shirt.
After a minute, Callie pulls away and looks down to where her hands are gripping hips and running the length of my sides.
"Have you've lost weight," she says with a concerned tone.
"Yeah…" I sigh, making brown eyes turn up to meet mine again.
"Why didn't you tell me you were going hungry down there? If I had known it was that bad you're damn sure I wouldn't have let you-"
"Calliope," I say softly, stopping a rant before it really picks up. "There was plenty of food. I ate when I could, honest. I just worked my ass off. …Literally."
"Then I'll just have to fatten you back up, cowgirl. Because I love that ass." A smile turns up those full, naked, warm lips and I'm drawn to them. Their touch, their taste, their feeling… It all just seems to make everything better.
But before things can heat up too much there comes a "Momma?" from down the hall. Seconds later, after no response, Ali yells again. "Momma?! Momma!"
"I got her, cowgirl," Callie says with a quick kiss.
By the time Callie returns I've already curled myself up in bed (and loving it). "What was it?"
"Scary looking shadow." Callie readily joins me in bed even though it is still hours from the time she'd normally go to sleep. "I told her you were too tired to be Superhero tonight, and that you had let me borrow your powers so that I could keep us all safe until you got better again."
"My hero…" A deep groan rattles up from my chest as I stretch wide, letting my body take in the pure heavenliness of being back in my own bed. "God, it feels good to be home. But you know what feels better?"
"What?" Callie asks in a whisper.
My lips find hers again, and during our kiss I move to where I'm on top of her. We've both shed our day clothes and are now in mere tank tops, the stomach of mine riding up against her own. "This. …How I've missed this. You. I love you."
"I love you," my wife says back to me. She guides my head back down and rests it against her chest, holding me and protecting me while we just lie there in each other's arms.
Minutes pass and the only sound that is heard is the soft tickling of a beginning rainstorm against the wall-sized windows that look out across Seattle. The city is glowing off in the distance, coming alive when Mother Nature is going to bed.
I can't hold my tongue anymore, so I break the quiet and say, "So we're really not going to talk about the baby thing?" It's been on my mind since that night of the storm, the night Callie and I decided to talk about having another baby… or have a baby, I don't really remember. But it was baby talk, and since when did Callie let go of baby talk?
My chin rests at that dip between her two breasts, and our eyes meet.
"I didn't want to rush you," Callie replies, her hands running through my and making me even more sleepy. "You have enough going on, cowgirl. I knew you'd bring it up again when you were ready. …Are you ready?"
"More than ready. …I want us to have another baby, Calliope." A smile creeps across my wife's face and I know I mirror it just as wide. "I'm kind of surprised you haven't already started up with the hormones again and printed out a list of donors. Hell… five years ago you would have already had a bun in the oven by now."
She slaps me playfully. "I wasn't that bad."
"Your baby fever was that bad. We would just be walking past a stroller and I swear your uterus would start to glow."
"Shut up," my wife growls, her lip poking out from me making fun of her. "Besides, I didn't know how you wanted to do it this time."
A beat passes, and then I say, "I'm pretty sure there's only one way to make a baby. Unless you've had some major medical breakthroughs since I've been gone that I don't know about, we need an egg and… stuff."
"Ha ha ha. You're so funny- What I mean is, I didn't know if… maybe… you wanted to… carry it this time."
Suddenly I'm not in a joking mood anymore. "Oh. I hadn't… I hadn't even thought of that. I just figured…" Brown eyes stare intently at me, and all I can think about is that stupid bucket list of hers. The one that lists jumping out of perfectly good airplanes, and jumping off perfectly good bridges. The one that includes having a threesome right along with finding the perfect lipstick. And amongst all those is 'see Arizona pregnant'. Only… I can't see that.
"You don't have to, Arizona. I was just… you know…"
"I love babies, Callie. You know that. I love babies. I love our babies. I just don't know if I'd love… housing our baby." Thankfully a smirk breaks the blank expression that was taking up residence on Callie's face. "Besides…" I purr, pushing up the bottom of her tank top and kissing her bare stomach. "You look so damn beautiful pregnant… I couldn't miss seeing that again."
I nip and tease at her delicious skin, my tongue swirling about her belly button, making Callie chuckle and squirm. "Ok!" she cries, pulling me back up towards her. "…ok." And with that the decision of whom will be carrying our baby rests.
"But… what if…" Perfect teeth chew at her lower lip in contemplation.
"What if…"
"What if I carried your baby?"
Her question lingers for a moment, and I get lost. "What do you mean, 'my baby'? It's… It'd be my baby. It's our baby isn't-"
"No, I mean," Callie cuts in. "I mean… what if we used your eggs?" All I can do is stare at her, so she continues. "You want me to carry, and I've always dreamed of having a mini-Arizona running around the house right after Ali. The two of them tracking in mud on their boots. Looking all adorable in their little cowboy hats. …What do you think?"
"I think…" I have to swallow to push down that lump in my throat that has suddenly appeared. "I think that sounds perfect." Our decision is sealed with a kiss. And celebrated with another. And we can't just stop at two, because it's been three weeks since I've been with my wife, and I have a lot of time to make up for.
AN2: Yay babies! Let me know if you're all as stoked with this plan as I am. I know so many of you asked that I make Arizona pregnant this time, but that just doesn't fit our Cowgirl. It's not who she is. But… maybe we'll still get a baby blonde in the happy family yet. You'll just have to wait and see how it all unfolds!
