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: Shout out to shipsinthenight11 over on tumblr. She put together a post of actors to be cast as characters if this fic were a movie and… she nailed it! Do you want to put a face to a name? Go to shipsinthenight11 dot tumblr (.com)/post/41524884265/ (remove parentheses) and see these characters come to life.

AN2: Also, I realize that this story is different from many of the others posted on this site. The situations are difficult and our girls aren't together. That's what this story is about. It's about two people fighting what life has given them to try and end up together. These characters I am writing have flaws, and insecurities, and doubts. Callie has, up til now, been a woman married to a very straight lined and hard nosed man. She has kids. And now, after an upwards of 35 years, she finds herself attracted to a woman. So yes, she will be scared and timid and confused. I'm trying to write a very real account of how someone would react to these types of situations. Sometimes it's not always logical and rational, but neither are human beings. So, again, I understand if this story isn't everyone's cup of tea. And if you're not enjoying it, stop reading. But try to take a step back and see the bigger picture before unleashing your harsh, and anonymous, reviews. Thanks. Now… Enjoy!

Chapter 12

One last cloud of smoke disappears into Arizona's body before fingers flick the half smoked cigarette off the side of her porch. Sunday used to be a day of family and friends, of celebrating the life she has and to let go of a long week. But now it's become a day she'd rather just skip over. It'd save her the pain and the hurt of having to relive all the bad memories that have seemed to compile over the last five years.

Her thumb hovers over the call button, delaying the inevitable for just a few more seconds, but then she presses the send button and holds her cell up to her ear.

The line rings a few times and then it connects. "Serenity Sunrise Assisted Living, this is Patricia. How many I help you?"

"Hey, Patty, it's Arizona." The blonde sighs.

"How are ya, honey?" The older woman asks. Her slight southern draw reminds Arizona of her mother's voice, back when it was warm and full of life, and it makes her smile.

"Been better." Arizona replies, and then takes a deep breath. "How is she? Is she still not eating?"

"We got her to eat a couple days ago. Your Momma sure does love her some banana pudding." Patricia laughs, trying to keep the conversation light. "And the doctor saw her yesterday for her monthly check up."

"And?"

"And she's doing just fine."

"…For a woman whose mind is slowly rotting away." Arizona adds, and Patricia doesn't comment. "Thank you, Patty. Could you connect me to her room?" The nurse gives her another supportive goodbye and then connects Arizona's call to her mother's room.

Barbara's condition varies day by day. There have been times Arizona has called and Barbara knows exactly who she is, and knows her daughter's favorite ice cream flavor, remembers the gift she got on mother's day ten years ago, and just how much her daughter is hurting because of everything. But then there are days where she doesn't even recognize Arizona's voice. Or know who the man is in the picture hung up on her wall despite the fact she was married to him for over 35 years. Those are the days where Arizona has to bite her lip to keep from crying, because the strongest and kindest woman Arizona has ever known has been lost.

And when she hears her mother answer with a "Hello?", she knows it's not one of her mother's good days.

"Hi, is this Barbara?" Arizona asks.

"Yes. Who is this?" Her mother replies, even though Arizona's name appears on the caller ID.

"It's Arizona. …How are you?" She spends the next twenty minutes conversing with her mother like two strangers who are killing time while waiting in line. They talk about the weather, and how the stylist cut Barbara's hair too short. They talk about the latest article in a magazine Arizona isn't even sure that her mother actually read. And Arizona listens while her mother, the mother that held her daughter close and told her things would be alright when Arizona was battling with coming to terms with her sexuality, promises that she will meet a wonderful man some day. That Arizona and her future husband will fall in love, get married, and have beautiful children together. And all the while, tears of sadness and heart break streak from blue eyes.

She wants to tell her mother about the woman she's met, and ask for guidance. Her mother would know what to do, Arizona's mom would have known the right thing to say to her daughter to help her through. …But not this woman. Not this shell that looks like Barbara Robbins. And that's exactly what Arizona is talking to, a shell. A recording. Because that's all she gets. The same thing week and after week. The reason why Tim doesn't bother calling, the reason why Arizona has wanted to punch her fist through more than one wall or window. But here she is, talking to the ghost that used to bring sunshine and light into her life. Because that's all that's left of her mother.

And when her mother hangs up its short and curse. No 'I love you, hon', no 'call me when you can'. She doesn't ask about Tim, or if he's alright. All Arizona gets is a cold 'good bye' and a click, leaving her once again to come to terms that despite the fact that Barbara is alive, her mother isn't.

Another Monday means another week back at the hospital. Weekends never seem to last long enough for Callie Torres, but this past weekend seemed to last too long. After Max's blow up, he was insistent that he be home. All weekend. And that constant hovering and prodding was nearly enough to make Callie go crazy. She has her own way of doing things, of getting the kids up and fed. But with Max, there's always a better way, which inevitably leads to two cranky children with screwed up schedules.

Now she's back to the relatively regularity of work, which means cutting patients open, playing with hearts, and, more importantly, paperwork. Paperwork she pretends to be doing as she keeps a watch on the door hiding the on-going board meeting. During one of their 'talks' this past weekend, Max had said that they were coming to a decision on the Robbins' case today, and Callie wants to know the outcome as soon as possible.

And it seems she underestimated the boards need to drone on and on because she ends up standing there for twenty minutes, but then finally the door opens and Max is the first one to step out.

"So?" She asks, not wasting a second before launching into her interrogation. "What'd you decide?"

The groomed man tugs slightly on his tie and replies, "They passed."

"What?" His wife gasps.

"The board rejected the Robbins' case." Max answers firmly.

And he is met with the full force of a Torres glare, something very rarely directed towards the man. "You mean you rejected the case." Max tries to usher his wife out of the hallway and away from those watching on, but Callie pulls out of his grip and asks, "Why? What was the reason?"

"Funding!" Max snaps, drawing the attention of a few nurses and doctors around. He just smiles politely at them and then guides Callie into the first vacant room he can find. "I don't think you understand that this is a business, Calliope, and that there isn't an unlimited supply of funding pouring in from-"

"Oh, I know this is a business." Callie interrupts. "I know because my department has been cut, repeatedly, by your board because of that very same reason. My nursing staff, my fellowships, my research. It's all be cut down to nothing and I'm making due. So please, tell me where the hell all my money is going if it isn't going to help the patients. The patients who actually need some assistance, and not to the neuro department for yet another play toy."

"You know it's a lot more difficult and involved than that." Max rebuts, his face reddening as it always does when his wife dares to argue with him. "This hospital is a business, a failing one at that, and it can't afford-"

"Save it, Max." The Cardio surgeon cuts in. "Look, here's the deal. You get the board to cover Tim Robbins' hospital bill, or I will." That seems to trip the man up, and Callie smirks. "You wanted a way to make everything alright between us. Here's your chance. Show me that you truly care for me and support me by going back to your little board of directors and telling them that this case will get approved."

Dark eyes meet dark eyes while Max studies his wife. There is something there, lurking behind her usual professional façade. A fire, a cause. Something he's never seen before, at least, not in a long time.

"What is it about this case?" He asks in a low voice and it jars the mask on the surgeon's face. "You've never petitioned so strongly for a patient before. What's different about this one? This… Timothy Robbins." His name drips from Max's tongue like venom. First it was his umbrella in the man's possession, and now his wife is all but giving him an ultimatum concerning this same patient, and a thought is starting to piece together for Max.

A flash of fear streaks through Callie, and she does her best to appear insulted. "What exactly are you implying, Max?"

But he knows better than to come right out and say it, so he forces a smile on his face and replies, "Nothing. It's just… interesting. I've never seen you take such a personal interest in one of your patients like this. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you had feelings for this man."

She stares right up into her husband's eyes, his thick aftershave rolling off him in waves and his hair shiny from the product he uses, and Callie says, "Guess it's a good thing you know better, then." The surgeon side steps around him and reaches for the door.

"I'll see you tonight?" He asks, back to the door and his wife.

And Callie hesitates, the coolness of the door handle in the palm of her hand. "Of course." And then she's gone.

Boots scuff and shuffle along the shiny linoleum hospital floors, and the smell of antiseptic is heavy in the air. No matter how many times Arizona comes into a hospital, she just can't shake the unease and tension that settles into her bones. How does someone actually work in places like this? Why would anyone want to? When you could be outside, in the fresh air. Not breathing recirculated air that the sick and dying are breathing, with walls and hallways so bland that one looks just like all the rest.

But here she is, again, walking the hallways of a place she has no other reason to be if it wasn't for the treasure at the end of the trail. A trail the ends at the door with a placard reading 'Dr. Calliope Torres, M.D., F.A.C.S., Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery'.

A soft knock on her open door draws Callie's eyes up from her desk, and the smile that appears on her face nearly knocks Arizona off her feet. That is, before Callie remembers just where, exactly, they are, and she tamps it down to merely a smirk.

"Hey." Arizona opens, taking a step into the surgeon's office. Her eyes land on the bouquet of expertly cut and arranged red and white roses taking most of Callie's coffee table, and she holds up the single, slightly wilted red rose she bought from down stairs. "Guess someone beat me to it, huh?" She doesn't even need to read the card to know just who sent it to the surgeon, nor how much it undoubtedly cost. All in hopes of buying back the woman's forgiveness.

But Callie takes the flower and brings it to her nose, inhaling deeply. "It's beautiful, thank you." Instead of placing it in with the others, the ones sent from her husband and delivered by some nameless, faceless delivery boy, she unscrews the water bottle on her desk and places the flower in it.

"I have about twenty minutes until my next patient. You want to get some coffee?" She asks, turning back to find the blonde five feet closer to her than she was just a few seconds ago.

"Why?" Arizona whispers, a finger running down to length of Callie's exposed forearm. "Are you afraid to be alone with me, Dr. Torres?" And she doesn't miss how the doctors swallows, but lets her off with a chuckle. "Coffee sounds great."

They walk side by side down to the floor below, Arizona's hands shoved in her pockets so she won't be tempted to reach over and touch the surgeon, who happens to be looking very striking in her navy scrubs and scrub cap. It's been nearly a week since Callie showed up on Arizona's porch, and things getting a little heated in Joe's office, but since then it's been quiet. And Arizona doesn't know if it's because of Max Callie has been distant, or because Callie herself has decided to wise up, to forget about the broke blonde country nobody and return to her life of culture and prosperity.

With their coffees, and Arizona finally learning how the doctor takes hers, a sugar and two creams, Callie gestures them to one of the tables littered around the open area. "Ahhh, I know this move." Arizona signs, tentatively leaning against the bar high table. "Take them somewhere private to break the news, that way they don't make a scene."

Eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What? I- No, Arizona. That's not-"

"No, I get it, Calliope. I do. Even I was wondering what we were-"

"Arizona." A warm hand on the blonde's arm stops the woman in her tracks, and draws blue eyes to deep, soulful brown. "I just wanted to see you. That's all. …I've missed talking to you. And… other things." They share a smile and Callie's hand moves down to take Arizona's, an act that wouldn't raise any eyebrows if seen from a stranger's perspective. Two women, smiling and talking, sharing a moment of comfort.

But then a very distinctive voice pulls Arizona's attention away from the surgeon and her gaze quickly finds the source of her distraction. Across the atrium comes walking a pair of blonde haired and blue eyed women, one in a lab coat and one in a cowboy hat. Arizona releases Callie's hand and stands up straighter when she and her ex connect gazes, making all but impossible for them to continue on without interacting.

"Hi…" Is Cody's stellar opening, the first word she's said to Arizona since she found her with another woman between the Aussie's legs. The same woman who shifts a bit uncomfortably next to her new fiancé.

Callie's gaze darts between the three blondes, and if this were a western movie it'd be about that time where the town goes silent, even the dogs, and only a lone tumbleweed blows between to the two feuding outlaws in the middle of main street.

"So… how are you? How's Tim?" Cody asks when the silence gets too intense. "Is he, is his heart ok? His leg, is it-"

"We're fine." Arizona interjects coolly, and only Callie picks up on that word. "And I see that you're engaged to be married." She adds, her gaze dropping to the rock nestled on the Aussie's left hand that's looped through Jillian's arm. "Congrats on that." Her words are forced, just like her smile, and she has to loosen her grip on her cup of coffee before she crushes it to death.

Thankfully Chase's pager goes off, giving the happy couple an out, and Arizona watches as the two retreat deeper into the hospital. She and Callie soon follow after them and return to the surgeon's office, both quiet and now on edge. Arizona doesn't know why seeing Cody upset her so much. She didn't love her, she didn't even care when she walked in and found Chase eating her girlfriend out. But seeing them like that, happy and smiling, hand in hand, a ring on Cody's finger. That has made her upset. …Or is she jealous? Jealous that Cody and Jillian get to be together, whereas Arizona can only pine after the woman she is falling for. A woman who is straight, supposedly, and married, and the mother of two kids. How can Arizona ever be able to walk around with Callie proudly on her arm like the two women they just ran into? And if that can't happen, why is she in this in the first place?

"Hey, you alright?" Callie asks softly when they finally get back to her office, Arizona not even realizing they've made it.

"Uh, yeah, fine." The blonde answers, and the Latina arches an eyebrow.

"That's two 'fine's' in ten minutes, Arizona." She shuts the door to her office to give them some more privacy, and then steps in close to the blonde and plays with the collar of her coat. "You can talk to me, you know. If you wanted."

Two hands softly encircle Callie's wrists, then ghost up the Latina's strong forearms before gripping behind her elbows and pulling her in closer. "I don't want to talk." Arizona whispers. A look of shared grief is had, and then warm, full lips touch the blonde's.

Callie is always surprised at how differently Arizona feels, how differently she tastes and kisses than her husband. The softness of the blonde's lips, tenderness in her hands. The way Arizona's tongue almost massages her bottom lip, requesting the same in return. There's no scratchiness of a five o'clock shadow, or heaviness of Max's aftershave. Whatever type of shampoo Arizona uses is light and natural, and Callie finds herself becoming addicted to it.

But, as it always seems to happen, the piercing of Callie's pager reminds the doctor that there are others beyond the four walls of her office that need her. She tries to pull out of the kiss but Arizona's grip keeps her in place. It surprises her, how strong the smaller, blonde woman is.

"Arizona-" She tries yet again but the hungry blonde isn't listening. All she can hear is the emptiness of her mother's voice echoing in her ear, and the gloating of Jillian and Cody. Everything is wrong, except this. This kiss isn't wrong. It's so right. And she doesn't want it to end.

But another "Arizona-" and their lips part.

"I'm sorry." The blonde says breathlessly. "I… I didn't mean." The last thing she wants Callie to think is that she is anything close to the way the woman's husband is, and now she's afraid that she's scared the doctor. "I'm so sor-"

"It's alright." Callie whispers, reaching out and cupping the Arizona's face. "It's ok. It's just, I have to go. I have a patient who-"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course." Arizona replies. She tries to force the blush of embarrassment down, but it seems to have settled deeply in her cheeks. She reaches for the door and opens it for Callie, but stops the woman before leaving. "That's- that's not me, what I just did. It was just-I don't know, I couldn't-"

Lips press against Arizona's for only a second, stopping the woman's rambling, and wide blue eyes blink before finding brown again, and Callie whispers, "Thank you for the flower."

Another morning's chaos is happening in the Castillo residence, and thankfully Lolita is more than used to dealing with it. Max Jr has somehow lost his toothbrush, his left shoe and his backpack already; while Valentina has suddenly decided she doesn't like yellow foods and now won't eat her captain crunch or eggs, which are usually the two things that she will eat. And it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet. No coffee in the world is strong enough to clear the headache raging behind tired brown eyes and Callie does her best to keep her patience while her two year old says 'no' time after time after time as she's trying to find something for her girl to eat.

"Mija, you have to eat something." The tired mother sighs.

"Hotdogs." Valentina replies enthusiastically.

"No, honey, you can't have hotdogs for breakfast." Callie says, "How about a nice bowl of oatmeal?" The sight of her husband coming down the stairs, phone at his ear and a suitcase in his other hand, draws the surgeon's attention. "Lolita, make her some oatmeal, please." She says offhandedly then follows after her husband.

"-no, that won't work. Uh, push my one o'clock to Friday, and what do I have at two? …Why do I even have that meeting? No, get rid of it." The man barks to, who Callie can only assume, is his secretary at his office. "And I'm expecting a call from- Yes, and tell him I read over it and will read over it again as soon as he pulls his head out of whatever hole it's been shoved in. …Right. …No, I don't know when but just take care of it for me."

When he hangs up, his wife asks, "Are you going somewhere?"

"Your father has called me to Miami." Max replies curtly, shrugging on his suit jacket and grabbing a few files around his home office.

Her brows knit together in confusion. "When?"

"Just this morning." Her husband flips through file after file, shoving each one he finds relevant into his briefcase.

"But, how long will you-"

"Christ, I don't know." Max spits. "He's your father, not mine. He tells me to come, I come." At his bookshelf, he slides away a fake set of law books to reveal a hidden safe. Callie's never been privy to the code, nor does Max intend on giving it to her anytime soon because the files he takes from inside are for his eyes only.

"And honestly it couldn't come at a worse time." He sneers, packing up the last few of his things and returning to the kitchen. "I was this close to making headway with the client and now I'm pushing back meetings I've been working to get for weeks. Fucking ridiculous."

"Oh, Papi say bad word." Valentina mumbles around her mouthful of oatmeal.

"Just eat, baby." Callie coos, then turns back to her husband. "So-"

"I have to go, I'll be lucky if I make my flight as it is." He grabs his coat and scarf, then gives his daughter a quick kiss on the cheek before doing the same with his wife. "I'll call you when I know something." And he's gone the next moment. But with a scheduled surgery slowly approaching, Callie doesn't have much time to grumble about it, and quickly returns to mother mode, all the while a plan starts to form in her mind.

And it's after noon before she gets to breathe, after two back to back surgeries, and then a 911 brought in that she couldn't save, and Callie decides to dash across the street. All morning she's been toying with her idea, weighing the pros and cons, but when else will her husband be out of town, gone over night. When else would she be able to be away without arousing suspicion, especially now the Max has become even more watchful and prodding after that night where he lost control.

The bar is all stocked and ready to go, and all that is left for Arizona to do is to wait for opening time. Sleep still clouds her eyes and the strong coffee Joe makes doesn't seem to cut it anymore, but her fingers are lazily strumming the strings to her guitar. The soft melody flows easily, without thought as though they were musical daydreams. She doesn't even move when she hears the back door open, knowing its Joe coming and going as he often does.

But she doesn't know that it wasn't Joe, it was another visitor, whose deep brown eyes watch in awe as the blonde sleepily hums along to the tune her fingers are producing. The soft glow of the bar makes golden hair shine, and the worn jean and boots give the woman a natural look. Like Callie is watching Arizona in her truest form yet, completely comfortable and at ease.

Then a floorboard creaks and blue eyes focus again, darting to the archway between the bar and the back. "Callie?" Her fingers falter and her back straightens. "How long have you been there?"

"Just a few minutes." Callie replies softly. "I forgot you played. I've never actually heard you before." She shuffles towards the woman, her hands buried into the pockets of her coat, which is covering her still scrub clad body.

"Gives my hands something to do, I guess." The blonde sighs. "So… what brings you-"

"Go out with me." Callie interjects. A beat passes, blue eyes studying the face just in front of her, and she adds, "Tonight. Go out with me tonight. Let me take you out to dinner; spend time with you outside the hospital or this bar. Please. …Please."

"I-I have work, Callie." Arizona replies.

A pout forms on full lips but then turn up into a smile and the Latina shuffles forward so she's standing right in front of the woman. "Then it's a good thing you have a doctor's note." She leans in and, ever so seductively, touches her lips against Arizona's. It's not so much a kiss, as it is a caress, drawing the blonde forward, making her work for it.

Pink lips buzz at the feel of Callie pressed against her. Her warmth and softness rolls off the surgeon's body and Arizona finds herself drawn into her, sinking deeper and deeper into their kiss. Strong, talented hands find the back of her neck and pull Arizona down, and when a tongue teases the other, Callie whimpers into their embrace.

When they part, forehead against forehead, Arizona licks at her lips and whispers, "I'll be there, just tell me when and where."

The cold night bites at Arizona's face and her fingers itch for a cigarette. That's what she would normally do when her nerves start to get the better of her. A good smoke would ease her stress, give her hands something to do besides twist and ball in her coat pockets. But Callie doesn't like it when she smokes, and frankly Arizona isn't fond of smoking herself. So she's trying to quit, and trying even harder to tell herself it's because she needs to, and not because she wants to do it for a woman whom has taken over every spare thought in her mind.

Then a shiny black sedan pulls up out front of the restaurant and a gorgeous woman steps out the car, and Arizona's world stops. It's the robe scene all over again, but instead of that pink, silky robe, Callie's body is wrapped beautifully in a dress worth more than Arizona's favorite horse. And instead of her hair being pulled up in a messy ponytail, it flows freely in the light winter breeze, tickling around her neck and cascading over her perfectly tanned shoulders.

She passes her keys off to the valet and then scans the front of the restaurant, immediately locking eyes with her date. The smile that appears quickly after is so brilliant that it makes the star pale in comparison. Arizona is sure that her mind has melted, because her tongue or her legs aren't working. No words are forming. And all she can do is watch as the beautiful doctor walks towards her.

"Hey." Callie greets, struck breathless by a fierce, freezing gust of wind. "Why aren't you waiting inside?"

"I…" Her tongue seems to be too big for her mouth because Arizona can't form the words she wants to say, or maybe it's because there are no words that she could say that would tell her date how wonderful she looks, so instead she replies. "I needed some air."

Once seated, Callie's dress finally on display now that her coat is gone, blue eyes scan the restaurant with unease. She's not used to having more silverware than a fork, knife and spoon. Nor three different kinds of glasses on the table. The cotton napkin draped over the waiters' arms seems pretentious, and the wine list longer than her arm only reinforces that. And once again she's reminded how very different their lives are.

"I uhh, I didn't have anything else to wear." The blonde mutters, her cheeks becoming very red. She's been living out of a suitcase for months because of the traveling with the tour, and that rarely calls for date clothes. She had to settle on her nicest pair of slack, scuffed black heels, and her cleanest dress shirt. And even then she feels like she just rolled out of bed compared to how Callie is dressed, compared to how everyone else is dressed.

"You look great, Arizona." Callie replies. "Really." The waiter comes up and asks if they'd like something to drink, and as Arizona peruses the list, her date orders a bottle of wine that costs more than she makes in two days work.

The doctor can tell that Arizona is a little bit on edge, and tries to ease her a bit. "You know, I've never been here before. It is a little snooty, isn't it?"

"It's not Momma's kitchen, that's for sure." Arizona replies, trying to force a smile on her face. "If you've never been here before then why did you-" But she doesn't need to finish the question. Despite her modest upbringing, Arizona has never been a dull woman, and she quickly reads the look on her date's face. "Ah. Right. …Because no one knows you here. Which means no one knows who you're mar-"

"Please." Callie pleads softly. "Can't we just enjoy dinner together?"

The blonde takes a large swallow of her wine, then a deep breath. She knows she should be happy to be out with Callie, and she's determined to enjoy the evening. "Of course, you're right." But then the menus arrive and blue eyes go wide at the prices, yet again.

Their waiter goes over every dish in detail, and it all sounds delicious. Callie has always been interested in cooking and the like, but being a mother of two, wife, surgeon and head of her own department means she rarely gets to use the big and shiny kitchen in her home. But then she glances across the table and sees a lower lip pinched between perfectly white teeth. Arizona is chewing on something, and it's not just her lip. The prices, she's never eaten at a place where it costs fifty dollars for a single meal and her checkbook is already cringing. So when they give their orders, Callie orders the special while her date orders the salad.

Silence falls between them when the waiter leaves, and Arizona takes a long pull at her wine. She's out of her element. She doesn't do high class restaurants and fancy silverware. She does backyard barbeques and wet knaps. Her dish comes and she can almost see those around her laughing at her because she inveritably used the wrong fork.

Conversation is strained, the subjects being those you discuss while waiting in lines. The weather. The snow. Wondering when it's going to warm up. Gas prices. Never before has Callie discussed gas prices with a date but Arizona seems so… distant. She doesn't dare broach the subject of the case, only because she has no good news to give yet, nor does Callie ask about Arizona's mom. Her financial situation isn't really date talk, nor is Callie's marriage. So that leaves the two with very little to actually talk about. So… they talk about gas prices.

The check comes and Arizona holds her breath as she reaches for it. She was taught to pay for the first date, it's the polite thing to do. And right now she's wondering if her father ever bought her mother a three hundred dollar dinner before. But then Callie merely hands the waiter a credit card like it's nothing, not even glancing at the check before doing so. And it may just be a needle prick, but it goes straight to Arizona's heart.

"So, that was fun." Callie muses as they wait just inside the door for the valet to get her car.

"Yeah." Arizona replies weakly. "Thank you, by the way."

"My pleasure." She smiles at the blonde, and reaches out to tuck a stand of hair behind her ear but doesn't respond as she usually does. Arizona doesn't nuzzle into her hand or gently cup her wrist. She just stands there.

Changing tacts, the surgeon takes a small step forward, into Arizona's space, and plays with the front of the woman's jacket. "I was wondering if… you wanted to come back to my place tonight. The kids are asleep and once the nanny goes home, we'll have the place all to ourselves." Her finger trails down the V of Arizona's jacket, just brushing the swell of her breast. "We can pop open a bottle of wine, light a fire. …Pick up where we left off this afternoon." Her lips brush against the blondes and Arizona's eyes flutter close at the contact. "What do you say?"

She turns away from the Latina's kiss, and whispers, "Calliope…" Callie pulls away, suddenly on guard, and looks right at the blonde. "I… Tonight was great. The food was- You look fantastic. So beautiful, as always, but… I'm exhausted. I've done six nights in a row. And if I don't come home then Tim will suspect something." The coat wrapped around Callie gets pulled tighter as the woman tries to push away Arizona's refusal, trying not to take it personally. Trying not to think about it as a brush off. "And your kids- I don't think that it'd be right to-"

"No, I get it." Callie interjects, stopping the onslaught before it turns into an all out emotional blood bath. Forcing a smile on her face, she says, "It's fine, really. It's fine."

That word knocks Arizona right in the chest, or it would if she had anything left to give. So she merely nods and says, "I should be going. Thank you, again, for dinner. I'll… see you soon, ok?" Lips touch for the briefest of seconds, and the last thing Callie sees of her date is a puff of smoke from a long wanted, and much needed, cigarette.