Dear all: Forgive my delay. On top of this year being a disaster in the US in general, I've also been busy with four jobs, being a full-time student, applying to PhD programs, and falling in love. Oof! Stretched thin, but I'm home for the holidays, so I figured I might as well do a little fiction writing during my time off.

Thanks so much for your patience with me this year. It's 1am and I'm off to bed now, but—rest assured—I'll fix all the typos in the morning.

-DB

"Okay, so catch me up," Callie began, her gaze on the road as she merged onto the freeway.

Arizona raised an eyebrow at her in question.

Callie bit her bottom lip, shyly meeting cerulean eyes. "I want to know everything about you. I mean, everything about who you are now. All the new things."

"Oh," Arizona smiled. "What do you want to know?"

"Hmm..." Callie's eyes narrowed in thought. "What's your favorite thing about yourself?"

"Just one?" Arizona joked.

Callie grinned. "Top three."

Arizona chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought. "I like that I work hard, and that I'm good at what I do. I like that I'm smart."

Callie nodded.

"I like that I'm good," Arizona added. "A good person, I mean. Someone who cares."

Callie offered a soft smile, nothing but love in her expression. "You're so good," she agreed.

"Thanks," Arizona blushed.

"Okay..." Callie paused. "What's something you've enjoyed cooking for dinner lately?"

"Thai red curry."

Callie's expression was mischievous. "Will you make it for me sometime?"

Arizona laughed. "Anytime you want. I'd love to."

Callie dropped her palm to Arizona's knee. "Good."

"Now it's your turn," Arizona decided, her voice suddenly softening with solemnity. "Tell me something I don't know about you."

Callie's eyebrows flew up. "Oof. That's pretty general. Can you be more specific?"

Arizona's lips scrunched up as she considered that. "Maybe...is there something you never shared, back when we were together?"

And, with a recent memory, Callie chuckled to herself.

Arizona turned toward the sound, carefully studying Callie's face. "There is?"

Callie nodded, already looking sheepish. "I was cleaning up my laptop a few weeks ago and found some old texts I exchanged with Addison." She met Arizona's eye, expanding, "We've had some pretty interesting conversations because we're both chronic oversharers."

"Oh, I know," Arizona assured her, affectionately rolling her eyes.

Callie smiled bashfully. "Well, it must have been when you and I first got together because I was still freaked out about it."

"About what? Me?"

"Kind of," Callie admitted. "I was telling her how I saw colors every time I had sex with you."

Arizona shook her head, confused. "Wait, what?"

Callie sighed in preparation, feeling a little shy as she formed the words. "Every time we had sex, I would get these flashes of color: sometimes opalescent, sometimes blue, sometimes yellow..." She paused. "I got so used to it with you that I forgot how unnerving it had been at first."

Arizona's brows were furrowed, and it was clear that she was still processing, trying to make sense of this new information.

Callie shrugged. "It was some sort of orgasmic synesthesia or something, and it made sex with you even more intense than it would've been anyway."

Arizona met her eyes. "That's...Wow. That's pretty wild."

"It was definitely different," Callie agreed.

"But you never felt like you could share this with me when we were married?"

"I didn't know if it was just a gay thing," Callie defended. "I thought maybe it was always a thing, when having sex with women, but it wasn't. It's only ever happened with you."

"Was it just at first?" Arizona asked. "And then stopped after the infatuation-period?"

Callie shook her head. "It kept happening. Every single time."

Arizona settled back into her seat, smiling a little. "I feel bizarrely prideful, knowing all this."

Callie laughed. "As you should."

They kept driving, listening to the sound of rain spattering the windows, the steady rhythm of the windshield wipers.

Arizona broke the silence. "Do you still like to paint your toenails 'Jungle Red'?"

Callie turned to her in surprise. "You remember my favorite shade of polish?"

Arizona shrugged a little. "I remember everything."

Callie's lips expanded into a bright smile. "Me, too."

That afternoon—after almost four hours of driving—Callie and Arizona finally made it to Houston. After dropping off their bags and the car at the hotel, they went out immediately, eager to move their stiff legs.

Together, they walked through the Museum District, admiring the sprawling houses, the weaving ivy, all the bricks and pillars. They then explored the Museum of Fine Arts and caught a late lunch—or maybe early dinner—at the popular Mexican restaurant nearby.

It was only five, though, and still so light out, so Callie asked, "Do you want to shop around for a little while? Check out the stores on this street?"

Arizona nodded instantly. They were in an older neighborhood—it was more grungy than other areas in the city, though it was full of young people and the buildings were painted with murals, adding pops of color to the area.

The smoke shops, vegan restaurants, and rainbow-painted crosswalks reminded Callie of home in Seattle. How strange, she thought, that she still thought of Seattle as "home." She reached for Arizona's hand.

They stopped in front of a Cavender's, whose storefront was full of large cowboy hats and intense-looking leather cowboy boots—the store stuck out like a sore thumb, so different and so much more Texas-y than the other places around it.

Arizona turned to Callie. "I dare you to buy a pair of boots."

Callie laughed. "No way! I would never wear them!"

"You could wear them in South Carolina—my dad would love it."

Callie eyed a pair of black boots on display.

Eager to convince her, Arizona sing-songed, "When in Rome…"

Callie turned back to Arizona, nearly convinced. "Will you buy some, too?"

Arizona nodded. "Of course. We'll both lean into Southern-ness," she laughed.

They ducked inside.

That evening, with their boxes of boots, they finally headed back to the hotel.

Callie collapsed onto one of the beds, leaning back against the pillows and throwing her arms over her face. "My feet are so sore from all that walking."

Smiling, Arizona sad on the side of the bed, her palm resting on Callie's warm abdomen. "I only have one sore foot. Jealous?" she joked.

Callie moved her arms, peeking up at Arizona. Catching sight of her playful expression, Callie smiled back. "It's hardly fair. You have it so easy."

Arizona leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Callie's lips. "I have an idea about something to do tonight, if you can summon a little more energy."

Callie immediately felt the sensation of butterflies in her abdomen. She raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

Arizona laughed. "There's this bar you might like."

"Yeah?

"Well, it's mostly gay men in their britches, but it's fun."

"How do you even know about this place?" Callie asked.

Arizona shrugged. "I was always intrigued by it as a teen. My dad was stationed at Fort Worth for a few years and we used to come down here for actual culture."

Callie nodded.

"And," Arizona added, "we had a conference here, remember? Houston's like the medical capital of the US."

"But as I recall," Callie reminded her, sitting up so that they were at eye-level, "we spent all our spare time in our hotel room. We didn't do much exploring."

"Our makeshift babymoon," Arizona laughed, remembering.

"But I definitely can rally for a night on the town with you," Callie decided, standing up and walking toward her suitcase to find a blouse to change into.

Arizona stood up. "Good dancing, too."

Callie turned to her in surprise. "You dance again?" She thought back to the years after the crash—how Arizona refused to dance, to even try, knowing it wouldn't be the same as it had been before.

Arizona nodded, slightly shrugging off the awe in Callie's voice. "I can't move the way I once did, but it's still fun."

Callie bit back her wanton smirk. "I'm sure you still move just fine."

"Well," Arizona's cheeks flushed with pleasure, "we'll see."

As they parked by the famous gay country bar, Callie couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it. Rainbow cowboy hat decals adorned the windows. "This is the most Texan thing I've ever seen."

Arizona grinned. "Hey, we could have stopped in a super rural area. There are plenty of Texan things there, but they're more quintessentially terrifying."

Callie got out of the car, shutting the door behind her. "I'm picturing Texas Chainsaw Massacre."

Arizona nodded. "That's about right."

Callie opened the bar's front door, her hand on the small of Arizona's back as she followed her inside.

Inside, they were met with friendly smiles from young and old folks alike. Mostly men—some wearing cowboy boots, some wearing chaps—some wearing leather harnesses—as well as two other women, both with short-cropped hair, wide hips, and weather-worn skin.

Feeling uncharacteristically nervous, Callie offered an unsure smile in their direction.

Arizona laughed at her expression and began leading the two of them toward the bar. "Let's get you a drink."

Sitting side-by-side at the bar a few minutes later, cradling their whiskies—when in Rome, right?—Callie winced at the tinny old country music coming through the speakers on all sides of them. "I thought we had a mutual disdain for country music." She narrowed her eyes at Arizona. "Have you secretly been a country girl all this time?"

Arizona laughed. "I promise I'm not a closeted country-music-lover. But in a gay country bar? All these people reclaiming a historically sexist and homophobic genre? I can appreciate it here."

Callie easily accepted that reasoning and clinked her glass with Arizona's before lifting it back up to her mouth for another sip. "Cheers."

As the minutes passed, couples and groups of friends slowly began to stand up, walk to the room's center, either swaying from side-to-side or all-out line dancing.

Callie lifted an eyebrow at Arizona. "Are we going to square dance, too?"

Arizona nodded. "As soon as I finish my drink."

Callie looked back out at the dance floor and frowned. "I don't think I know how to square dance."

Arizona chuckled. "They're line dancing. And you're, like, a master salsa dancer. This is nothing in comparison."

Callie smirked, teasing, "Salsa's a little sexier."

Arizona feigned an insulted expression. "You don't think that I can make country dancing sexy?"

Grinning, Callie looked back at Arizona and then instantly hesitated, disarmed by just how beautiful she was. Those pink lips, bright blue eyes, two braids revealed under the cowboy hat she'd bought earlier.

Arizona faked a glare at her, still waiting for a response.

Callie wet her bottom lip with her tongue, buying herself time to reign in her sudden desire. Finally, she forced herself to focus on their conversation: "I think that, if anyone can make line dancing sexy, it's you."

Arizona dimpled, delighted. "That's the answer I was waiting for." She stood up and offered her hand out to Callie. "I'll prove it."

With her stomach fluttering again—as it so often did, in Arizona's presence—Callie accepted the proffered hand and they walked out toward the mess of bodies.

Standing a few feet apart from each other, Arizona easily moved in step with the men around her, showing Callie the pattern. "It's easy," she assured her. "Stepping in a line, really." She reached out for Callie's hands. "Just do what I do."

It didn't take long for Callie to get the hang of it, too, especially with all the encouragement from those around her, smiling encouragingly, one man even exclaiming, "Yaaas, queen, you've got it!"

Callie looked at Arizona with a curious smile, and Arizona shrugged, chuckling, "I guess we've made some new friends."

Eventually, they went back to the bar for a drink—water, this time—sitting and sipping in comfortable silence and contentedly watching the friends and couples still dancing.

A minute later, Arizona's palm dropped to Callie's knee to get her attention.

Callie turned to her, eyebrows slightly furrowed with curiosity.

Arizona offered a small smile, nodding toward her wide-brimmed hat. "You look so cute in that."

"Me?" Callie laughed. "You look like a straight-up southern belle. This is a whole new Arizona for me."

Arizona raised a brow expectantly. "And how do we feel about this whole new me?"

Callie shook her head—partly with wonder, partly with confusion, and maybe even with a little exasperation. "I keep thinking there's no way I could care for you more than I do already. But there's clearly always room for more—because this," her eyes scanned down Arizona's body, teeming with desire, "is maybe the hottest thing I've ever seen."

And—at the sound of Callie's voice, deep and husky with desire, and the obvious lust in her eyes—Arizona felt a thrill run through her. Still, she forced herself to remain cool, smirking, "Just wait until you see my chaps."

Callie's mouth fell open.

Arizona laughed. "I'm just kidding."

Callie took a minute to recover from the mental image. "'Maybe you should get some," she decided, her voice barely audible.

And, for a long moment, they just looked at each other, each woman taking in her favorite view: the other. They were full of love and desire and—when a slow Rascal Flatts song came on a minute later—Arizona bit her lip, palm suddenly inching up toward Callie's thigh.

Callie looked up.

Arizona offered a small smile, her voice soft. "Dance with me?"

Callie nodded softly, heart suddenly hammering in her chest.

And, then, they easily found their way into each other's arms: Callie's hand on Arizona's hip, Arizona's on Callie's shoulder, the space between their bodies shrinking with every sway.

Arizona lifted her face and pressed a kiss to Callie's cheek.

Callie melted at the contact, exhaling a long breath, her eyes falling shut. Instinctively, she pulled Arizona closer, palm finding a soft waist.

Arizona shut her eyes, cheek on Callie's cheek, their bodies melding, close enough that each movement wasn't hers but theirs.

Callie smoothed her hand over the small of Arizona's back. "I've wanted this for so long," she exhaled.

Her breath was warm against Arizona's ear, and Arizona shivered, despite the summer heat. Her palm caressed Callie's upper arm, skin impossibly smooth. She nodded softly. "Me, too." Then, desiring more contact, her other hand found Callie's waist, pulling that perfect body impossibly closer to hers.

And, though they were full-on embracing in the middle of the bar now—potentially with an audience, if the other bar-goers hadn't been consumed by their own romances—Callie didn't care. She pushed back the blonde curls that had gotten matted to Arizona's skin and buried her face in her neck, warm and sweet.

Arizona's breath instantly caught in her throat, her grip tightening onto the fabric of Callie's blouse.

Callie couldn't help but press her lips to the skin beneath her ear, taste the salt of her.

And then, somehow, Arizona's thigh was between each of hers, and her breath shuddered out at the sensation. She felt a new heat spread throughout her body.

"Arizona..."

Arizona pulled back—just enough to meet Callie's black eyes, her dazed expression, and then press her mouth to Callie's, nipping at a plump bottom lip.

Callie exhaled a hard breath through her nose, one hand moving down low enough to cup a round ass, urge Arizona closer, that thigh between hers…

Arizona whimpered at the feeling of Callie's muscular thigh against her, instinctively pressing herself against it, and closer, always closer…

Callie muffled her gasp against Arizona's neck, also falling victim to the feeling.

"Callie," Arizona breathed, her legs holding Callie's thigh against herself with a vice-like grip.

Callie's breath rushed out, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep ahold on her surroundings, to maintain control. She pushed against Arizona's hips—just enough to urge her back an inch, enough to take back her thigh.

They easily resituated—pelvis-to-pelvis, breast-to breast—and Callie's lips found the shell of Arizona's ear. "You were right," she breathed. "You make country dancing very sexy."

Back at the hotel, Callie and Arizona showered—separately, and with cold water—freeing themselves from a day's worth of sweat.

After wringing the final drops of water from her hair, Callie strode back into the bedroom area and was met with a sweet smile from Arizona, her cheeks a little pink.

Callie froze in place, her expression suddenly unsure. "What?"

"Nothing," Arizona shook her head. "I'm just really glad you're here."

And there was that warmth, again: from head to toe, she felt it. "Me, too."

After Callie climbed into bed next to her, Arizona set down her map of the US on the side table, her attention solely on the brunette. "How are your feet? Sore?"

Callie waved off the worry. "In a good way. The gay country bar was worth it."

Arizona grinned. "Definitely worth it. Suddenly, I really regret those years I refused to dance with you. I was missing out."

Gingerly, Callie brushed back a blonde strand of hair, tucking it gently behind Arizona's ear. "I know," she breathed. "But we'll make up for lost time."

"Oh, I intend to," Arizona bantered, her palm running up and down Callie's thigh, as if to illustrate her point.

After they shut off the light and turned off the air conditioner, they settled in for bed, Callie curling herself around Arizona, their bodies close as skin.

"You know," Arizona began, her voice a whisper, "I always sleep best with you. Always have."

"Yeah?" Callie asked, face against smooth blonde hair.

Arizona nodded, the movement made audible by its friction against the pillowcase. "You remember how I was—and am. Always thinking, or worrying, or analyzing every little thing. Remember how I used to get when I was stressed?"

Callie chuckled at the memory, and Arizona felt the vibration against her.

"You would just toss and turn constantly, and get those worry-sweats, and occasionally sneak outside in your PJs for a cigarette."

Arizona winced. "I thought I'd kept that hidden from you."

Callie laughed again, breath rushing out her nose. "Nope."

Arizona sighed, feeling a little sheepish, but mostly just warm. "Well, I'm always an overthinker—and we have stressful jobs—but, with you, I always wanted to be present, so I manage to sleep best when we're together."

Callie pressed a wet kiss to Arizona's bare shoulder. And then another. And another. "I love you, too."

If you want more, tell me: Which part was your favorite?