Chapter 21
Title: Reese's Peanut Butter Cups
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy and/or any of the characters in it. All rights belong to ABC, the producers of Grey's Anatomy and Shonda Rhimes. I do not own any rights to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
Made for entertainment purposes only.
A/N: Wow! I'm surprised; to say the least, that so many of you have stuck through the long wait. I appreciate it, more that you guys know. Your reviews make me want to write more, thus the fast update this time.
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Callie's POV
The city looks like it's hidden behind marshmallow pudding. Smothered, blanketed, positively swathed in long crystalline strings of spun white sugar. The tall buildings, the short ones, all the streetlights, the stark brick slums and the long frozen lakes are all swaddled in a cottony layer of frozen water. It's the first snow of the week, but it isn't particularly brutal – which is uncharacteristic of the typical Seattle snowfall. But hey, the night is young.
I've been parked outside Arizona's apartment for the last 15 minutes. We have a dinner thing planned. I suggested with step out together but she insisted on going home and "cleaning up" before it. Arizona lives less than a mile and a half from the hospital, so we decided I'd pick her up when I clocked out. Now I'm starving. And she's late.
I watch on as fleecy bits of wheel shaped snowflakes twirl out of the sky and land on my windshield. The wipers make a squeaky screech as they continue their futile battle against the film of ice depositing over the perimeter of the glass; I push a lever to turn off the atrocious sound. Spiky hoarfrost has formed over the long black handles as they come to a halt and rest on the hood of the vehicle.
My second time on this street in a week and not much has changed – except it's a lot less tangled up with Christmas lights, a lot more crowded, and a lot, a lot colder. Now more than ever, I'm grateful for the low hum of the heater. Several figures in big overcoats and boots are walking down the pavement; some with smoky yellow butts in their hands and others with steamy cups. I can't even make out their faces huddled inside furry hoods and wrapped in mufflers. They are like obscure, borderless shadows stuffed into parcels of wool and leather. It looks absolutely frigid out there.
Allegra, in spite of having been raised Dade-County, Florida – home to the Amish Snowbirds during the cold snap – has always talked about how much she wanted to build a snowman and play freeze tag (I don't think she knows that has nothing to do with the cold) and roast chestnuts over an open fire, basically all those things they glorify in Hollywood movies when it comes to winters. Unfortunately, Miami is about as far away from woolen mittens as you can get. So she is the one person absolutely ecstatic about the chill. Poor girl doesn't even mind that Seattle snow is wet sludge most of the time. She and a few school friends have gone sledding with one of the parents in a nearby season-cabin. It's winter break and there is no better time for hot-chocolate slumber parties – that was her selling pitch for the trip. Normally she'd have to work for a weekend in the woods, but she being locked in her bedroom while a string of Family Law attorneys file in and out of her house all day is a scenario I won't allow. We still have to break the news of le divorce to Allegra. It's like a black, heavy iron object looming over my head. How do you do that? Tell a child that Mommy and Daddy won't be living together anymore. That we won't be living together anymore. The thought sickens me. Julian and I are planning to do it next weekend.
The wind makes a shrill whistling sound, cutting through the undulating tension in my abdomen. My eyes go back to Arizona's building. It's like I remember it, lined with twinkly Holiday lights, cozy.
What's taking her so long?
The car radio prints 10:52 P.M. In spite of the informative note, I pull my sleeve up and check my watch nonetheless. It's a minute off.
"Where the hell are you…?" I mutter through my teeth as my fingers drum against the pelt of the steering.
I'm giving her five minutes and then I'm calling her.
Waiting for Arizona. I've done it before but it's different now. After this evening, everything is different. I guess some part of me knew it already, the way she felt. Still, having her say it makes everything a lot more real. It's more frightening, like driving in the dark with no brakes.
T minus 2 and I hear the wail of a wooden door. Across the street from the ornate doorway I've been watching all evening, a wide amorphous silhouette hops over the threshold, swings the grating door shut and flights across the street. My eyes trace her as she makes her way stepping and tripping around the people and the cars and the trash-cans to round my car and bang an open fist on the passenger window.
Letting a panting Arizona Robbins in, I turn up the heat.
She tugs at the Velcro straps of her jacket and shakes tufts of snow off her boots before throwing her bag in and then diving into the warmth of the seat. Scrambling for the buttons of her black mittens, she sheds of them.
"Hey"
Her face is patchy and pink, flushed. I forget how pale she is, having mostly seen her in the florescent of the hospital. Everybody looks the same generic shade in that light.
"Hey yourself" I smile, putting the car into drive, "Kind of you to join us Dr. Robbins"
"Sorry" she's fixated on the curbside mirror, pulling her hood off and combing through tousled wet hair. "This guy downstairs finishes all the hot water! God only knows what he's doing in the fucking shower all day, especially in this goddamn weather –"she grumbles on about the plumbing and her neighbor until she notices me eyeing her.
"What?" she side-glances to me with a hint of awareness.
Mildly embarrassed by the fact that I was caught staring, I school my expression back to normal. Squinting against the high-beams shooting from the cars opposite to me, I turn the corner. I roll by the ever-busy hospital, past the Emergency Bay and around to the front. Arizona waves to a few colleagues exiting the hospital as I speed up the engine.
"Callie?" she probes, pulling out a chapstick from somewhere within the several pockets of her jacket.
"Hm? Nothing"
"Y'Right" she deadpans, hardly looking to me.
Ok. I was wrong. This is awkward.
"Uh –"she lets me drone monosyllabically for a few minutes before turning back out the window, I push forward"- it's just, your potty-mouth. It's – it's surprising. Nice even"
Definitely awkward.
Tightening my hold on the steering wheel, I berate myself for another mile or two for opening my trap. What is going on here? I check on her a few times, but other than swiping her phone, I don't catch her doing much but staring out the window. Her jaw is set, a few clumps of hair fluttering against the radiator. Is she mad at me? Considering the fact that she professed her love to me a couple of hours ago, to which I responded with no more than a few words, I guess that could be a possibility.
She plays with the radio; switching a couple of channels and settling on one of those Call and Play programs, those ones where you call in a request for Joe or Ida or Mindy or Harrison or whomever and ask to play their favorite song because you miss them. Or because you love them. Or because it's their birthday. Kind of reminds me of 'Sleepless in Seattle'. Good movie.
Maybe she's just tired?
God – I bet this is what guys feel like, clueless. I'm practically sweating here.
A few miles in and we've entered the city. Being a Friday and all, it's pretty congested in here. I can already tell parking will be a bitch; that heap of dirty snow gathered along the curb only complicates matters. I almost wish I'd brought the driver.
Arizona suggested Chinese and so that's where we're going. Although, judging by her strange behavior right now I'm beginning to doubt if she'll even get out of the car, let alone eat with me. I didn't know that an hour ago and since I'm still a newbie when it comes to Washington, I had to ask the nurses where I'd find a nice restaurant. My Ortho crew Katherine, Yosh and Ana decided on something called the Golden Lotus a little outside of Woodsborough, on the other side of the Puget Sound. I'm just following Julian's GPS.
When 27 minutes – give or take – of incredibly weird super forced silence have passed, I decide to take the leap of faith.
"So –"my throat makes a sticky gruff noise, "- how was your day?"
I hear her breathe out, but she doesn't respond. I turn to her to find her watching me. She has an expression across her face which I don't understand. Her mouth is parted like she wants to say something; her eyes are wide, brow raised. She looks, nervous?
"Callie…"
"What's wrong?" my reply is instant, it comes out suspicious and robotic but I keep my eyes on the road.
"Stop. Stop for a second"
I may not know what this is about, but there is gravity in the husk of her voice. I don't question it. I pull over.
The unclipping of my seatbelt sounds loud in the night. I turn my body, adjusting it in the small space to face Arizona. She's staring straight ahead, her teeth grinding.
"What is it?" I ask, a little cagey.
I don't see her breathe in but she blows air out of her mouth, restrained and smooth, like getting ready for battle. My guard automatically goes up and I fold my arms across my chest. I have to remind myself that this isn't about me.
Her hands are in her lap, shelled neatly in the furrow of her thighs. I think of reaching out to touch her but quickly withdraw the idea. Something tells me she wouldn't react well to that.
"Arizona?"
She's too still, like a figurine. I watch her like she's a nuclear plant. Uranium – unsettle and radioactive.
Fuck it.
Bending forward, in one swift motion I reach to her, grasping the cortex of her jacket and tugging. She stiffens for a moment, immediately yanking her arm away and brushing me off.
"Stop" she growls like I singed her, "Gimme' a minute"
Ok. Bad idea.
I raise my hands, showing my palms in surrender and backing off. Leaning back against the door, I turn the key switching the car off. It's even quieter now that the purr of the engine has died down.
I don't want to rush her, not in any way. God knows she's been patient with me. My eyes stare blankly at the cup holder, watching the old quarters and pennies piled in them glint as headlights pass by.
Maybe she'll ask me to take her home. Maybe I should suggest it? Maybe I have enough on my plate already with the divorce and I didn't think this through. Explaining to Allegra her parents don't like each other 'that way' anymore is one thing, but telling her Mommy likes another lady 'that way' is a whole different ballgame.
I should have talked to Sasha before taking any rash decisions in the first place. We don't need any more hospital stays, or worse. Yes, I think I should ask to take her home. We should think this through. Clearly, she's having doubts.
My fingers are entangled in thought; dragging my eyes to Arizona, I prepare my declaration. She looks intent in thought, her eyebrows pulled toward each other. The soft outline of her profile cuts through the black of the night.
No, I don't want to think it through. I don't want to take her home. I like her too much.
"I'm proud"
I wonder if I dreamt it, but I'm pretty certain the words came out of her mouth.
"I'm proud" she repeats, her voice stronger, "You have to know that about me"
"I – I know" I reply when she doesn't continue. She adjusts to look at me, her lips pursed in fortitude.
"So then you know I don't want your charity"
The admission hits me like a hard bullet in the chest. Like an insult.
"Of course…" I swallow defensively, "Of course I know that, why would you even –"
"I told you I – I loved you and you asked me out to dinner so don't pretend like I'm crazy to think you were fulfilling some sort of obligation Callie "I realize she's being accusatory. She's accusing me of something.
But things are a lot clearer now. This is her way of saying she's feeling insecure.
Cars zoom behind her, their taillights whizzing past like red glow sticks. Arizona's body is rigid as she stares at me; she's ready to bolt at the smallest hint of a siren.
What I say now is careful and slow. I don't want to mess this up. So I gather my thoughts, pulling them together like the red and yellow wires of a time-bomb.
Bending forward, I look into her eyes. Drowning, inhaling in the turquoise of her irises – I know exactly what I want to say. Word for word.
"Arizona –"the corners of my mouth tug up even saying the name, "- I haven't slept as well as I slept this afternoon in the last four years. At least not without a drink, or, or a pill"
I have to suppress a grimace at the admission, but I continue, "Honestly? That's why I asked you to dinner"
There are lines between her eyes, "Um… ok – I – that wasn't what I –"
I run a hand through my hair, groaning at the nosedive of my speech, "God, I'm not doing this right"
"What I want to say is – I – sleeping next to you? You make me feel safe. Safer than I've felt I think, I think with anybody. Ever" I trail off bashfully.
She chews on the corner of her lip; I can see she's trying not to smile, her eyes sheened with wetness.
My heart beats so hard at the way she's looking at me, it gets difficult to breathe. My breath comes out shaky, but she needs to hear this.
"You are –" I reach forward and touch her hand, pulling it into mine, "- you are t-the most beautiful woman I've ever known. Everything about you is so beautiful it baffles me. And – and you make me feel things I've never felt for any woman before. And that scares me to death"
She's listening with concentration, and she hasn't pushed my hands away yet so I'm going to take that as a good sign.
"That's why you walked out the other night?" she asks, her voice sounds alarmingly uninviting.
Shame hits me like a punching bag and I look down to her lap, legs stacked tidily next to each other. I still the tears forming in my eyes, but the biting in my throat won't stop.
"Callie" I feel her thumb stroke my hand, her voice is gentle but her resolution firm, "You see? I always feel like – like there this puzzle piece missing with you. Like some things just don't add up. And that makes me, uncomfortable…"
And there it is. She can see it. The man who raped me. He is in my eyes, waiting to show himself at the most opportune moments. She may not know it yet but she can see him smiling. Smell him, the raw petrol on his hands and the tobacco in his mouth. Feel the fabric of - -
100, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92…
It's a trick my psychiatrist taught me. Every time I feel my mind head in the wrong direction, counting backward from a hundred cuts into the cycle. Because I'm in control.
I take a deep breath in. The warm air in the car smells like French fries and donuts from when Allegra spilled crumbs of them in here last week. I always tell her not to do that, but Julian must have taken her to ballet, he's a total pushover.
It also smells like Arizona. I always thought that milky sugary vanilla scent was a perfume she wore but now I'm thinking that maybe it's her shampoo, since she just showered. Or her soap.
"… and I need to know that you mean it. When you say you have feelings for me or – or whatever, I need to know it isn't something you're saying because you're in a time of crisis. That's all I need for now"
She squeezes my hand, and I realize she was talking all along. I hear the end of it, looking at her to see if she caught me drifting off. She looks vulnerable and conscious – but not suspicious.
"I mean it" I say, the words grating out of my throat. I quell the guilt niggling at my insides, I don't really know what 'I mean'. But anyways, this is better than having an episode, I want tonight to be about Arizona and not my unfortunate mental instability.
It's a little bit stuffy in here but for the most part, I'm ok. The car needs to keep moving though.
"Not to mention I was kind of the one who fondled you the other night –" I smirk, my hand landing on her knee, "So, sweetie, you can be as proud as you want"
Arizona runs a hand through her hair, not entirely convinced but content for the time being. The most counterattacked of smiles tugs at her mouth and I can't help but chuckle. She may be the cutest thing I've ever seen.
I lean forward, across the handle of her seat until I'm halfway propped in the air. Brushing back her hair, I bend closer, "Can I kiss you now?"
There's a flash of diffidence in her eyes but it passes quickly. Her lips turn up at the corners, reluctant and shy and beautiful as she looks down to her hands.
Sliding my hand up her leg, I rest it on the curve of her waist. I'm surprised with the how nervous I feel.
I press my mouth against hers, it's soft and earnest. Her lips curve into mine, parting slightly. Pulling her into me, I have to remind myself to not throw her over the dashboard and have my way with her. Instead, I settle on feeling of her, her kindness, her warmth, the staccato of her heart against mine. Her hand is wrapped around my neck, holding herself up. We have barriers of water-proof snowgear and thick woolen overcoats, but I still feel her naked skin against mine, her closeness. She tastes sweet, like chocolate candy. As tempting as it is, I pull back, my thumb running over her cheekbones. I can't help but go in for another quick peck.
Kissing Arizona is – like drinking magic.
Running my tongue over my mouth I break the trance, making some safe distance between us before I do something hasty. God knows we've had enough of that.
"That was… nice" she whispers, her eyes twinkling like little blue stars. I'd do anything to see her like this.
Twisting the stiffness in my back, I settle back down on my seat.
"Arizona –"I raise an eyebrow, trying to suppress the idiot smile creeping on my mouth, "- tell me honestly"
"What?" she asks, feigning anticipation.
"Were you late tonight because you were scarfing down a Snickers bar?"
Her mouth drops open, eyes stunned as she pulls her hand from my grip, "No!"
I throw my head back, a laugh rolling out of my chest, "You're a terrible liar!"
"I – a – I am not!" she retorts defensively, trying to talk through my obnoxious holler, "I – I haven't eaten anything since breakfast! I haven't!"
"Oh, the lady doth protest too much –"I shake my head, mocking her with a pitiful smile.
She throws her hands up in resignation, "Ok! Fine! But FYI I was working all day while you were holed up in that bed snoring you little butt off. Plus I was super stressed out– Besides, you, Little Miss Candy Police – are wrong!" she ends her rant with a strapping declaration, folding her arms across her chest.
"Oh yeah? Why's that"
Challenging each other with suppressed laughter, she breaks the stare-off.
"Guess" she hisses, almost daringly. Cheeky Arizona is the sexiest one.
I bite my lip, teeth grazing my mouth before I prepare my answer, "Peanut Butter Cups –"
Just like that, her eyes spark up, face splitting into a dimpled grin; the authenticity of her bliss runs all over her and tickles my toes. The warm, honeyed sensation flows over me, hugging my skin and filling the little metal box until the snow on top of the car sublimes into steam.
I feel good. She feels good.
"Enough gloating" bumping my leg with her foot, she smirks, "Drive Calliope. I'm starving"
We buckle ourselves in. The car hums again, the radio with its holiday tunes. The snowflakes now fall few and far between, but the temperature has dropped a couple degrees. I can't stop smiling, I've quit trying.
There is wholeness inside me. Just pure, untainted, syrupy wholeness. How does she do it? Make me feel like I can be anything I want.
"By the way, I don't snore" I add, my eyes on the road.
"Sure"
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A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that! I actually had a lot of fun writing it. Can't wait for the dinner – lighter times a'comin! Phew! About time.
Hit that Review button and let me know what you all thought. Have a fantabulous day :)
P.S: I hear you guys, I love that Callie is finally starting to tell Arizona about things. A little honesty is refreshing to write.