A reconciliation based on Adele's "Sweetest Devotion."

I wasn't ready then, I'm ready now
I'm heading straight for you
You will only be eternally
The one that I belong to

The sweetest devotion
Hitting me like an explosion
All of my life, I've been frozen
The sweetest devotion I've known

As Arizona scrubbed out of surgery, she felt a sense of giddiness consume her. She had not only kicked ass at her unparalleled surgery, but she had done so with half the hospital staff — including Callie — willfully watching from the gallery upstairs.

She was practically ripping at the seams with excitement. It felt incredible to prove to herself yet again just how good of a doctor she was, and just how good her decision had been to follow in Nicole Herman's footsteps.

Taking the fellowship hadn't been an easy decision, and Arizona hadn't been sure it was the right decision at first, but in retrospect, she was certain that it had been. Because, in that moment, she knew for certain that if she hadn't pursued that second specialty, the woman and fetus she had just saved would have been dead in a few short weeks. And she — her hands — had been what had saved them.

And, as if that wasn't enough on its own, the woman Arizona loved had opted to watch her surgery. Callie had been in the gallery, front and center, watching her every move. Arizona had locked eyes with her, and Callie had smiled her encouragement. And — in that moment — everything had been the way it was meant to be.

The day had filled Arizona with a sense of fearlessness. She felt as if she could do anything. She felt as if she could make all her dreams come true, if she only tried.

So, with that courage in mind, she called a sitter to spend the evening with Sofia and headed towards the Ortho ward.

She'd had a good day, and the only way she really wanted to celebrate was with Callie. So, she planned to ask Callie to join her at Joe's for a few drinks — not as a date, but just to talk.

She supposed she could have asked Callie out on a date, since her ex-wife was no longer dating the so called "perfect, pretty" resident, but Arizona didn't want to do that. She wanted Callie, but she didn't want to start over with her. She already knew Callie, and Callie already knew her, and Arizona only wanted to inform her ex-wife of her desires. She wanted to tell Callie what she wanted.

Which, ultimately, was her.

So, overcome with a surgical high, she practically skipped down the hallway towards the brunette, who was squinting at the overcrowded OR board. "Hi," she chirped.

Callie looked up, a genuine smile forming on her lips. "Hey, you. You were incredible today."

Arizona grinned, her cheeks flushing pink. "Thank you. It surprised me that you were there."

Callie shrugged self-consciously. "I figured I could learn something."

"Did you?"

That time, Callie blushed. "Yeah," she exhaled. "That you're an even better doctor than I thought."

And that was the truth. She had always admired Arizona's obvious skill, care, and precision in surgery, but she had never been as amazed as she was that day. The fact that her ex-wife had operated on and saved the life of a baby that had yet to even be born was something she still couldn't entirely believe. It was beyond skill or talent. It was magic.

Callie had never been so proud to have gotten the chance to love Arizona — and to love Arizona indefinitely — as she was that day. Even though it sometimes still hurt her heart that she and her ex-wife'd had different priorities at the time of their split, she knew that day that Arizona had made the right choice to pursue a second specialty. She knew that day that Arizona was meant to save babies. She was good at it. She was saving lives of beings who weren't even yet born. She was fighting off death. Like God. Or Happy Potter. She was changing the world, and Callie was consumed with love and respect for her.

Arizona's smile grew impossibly wider, her dimples deepening in her cheeks. She all but sang, "Thanks."

Callie chuckled, melting at the feet of the woman standing in front of her. Just like always. "You're going to celebrate tonight, right? Do you want Sofia to stay with me for another night?"

Arizona shook her head. "Actually…" she nervously began. "I was hoping to celebrate with you."

Callie's eyes bulged. That had not been what she'd expected to hear. She and Arizona hadn't spent time together one-on-one…ever. Not as exes, anyway. "Just me?"

Arizona chewed on her bottom lip as she nodded. "Yeah," she affirmed. "We could go to Joe's. Catch up." Even as she worked to keep her voice calm and casual, she felt her heart hammering in her chest. She knew that — even despite the good day — there was a very real chance that Callie would say no to her request. In fact, there was a very real chance that Callie would say Helllll no.

She held her breath, nearly passing out from hypoxia as she waited for Callie's response.

Finally, Callie gave in. How could she not? Even though she and Arizona weren't together — even though they wanted different things and couldn't be together — Callie was eager to spend time with her. To know her still. She'd be crazy not to want that. "Sure," she agreed. "I'm off in half an hour. Meet in the lobby?"

Taken aback by Callie's easy acceptance to her invitation, Arizona's eyebrows shot up. "Oh! Okay. Sounds great."

"Great," Callie smiled, feeling her stomach flutter with anticipation. The thought of actually seeing and talking to Arizona about more than work and Sofia was positively thrilling. It terrified her, sure, but it thrilled her even more. Just thinking about Arizona — the woman she had loved and would always love — made her smile so hard her face hurt. Most of the time, anyway. It made her smile whenever she wasn't hurting over how they had regrettably ended up: apart from one another, growing and finding happiness separately.

Half an hour later, Callie found Arizona in the lobby. She looked…Wow. Good. Better than good. Better than better than good. She was wearing a low-cut red blouse, black dress pants, and boots.

She looked ready for a date. And, as Callie looked down at her own outfit, she realized that so did she. In fact, she had spent more time than she cared to admit applying eyeliner and lipstick. And she knew that she had applied several more-than-generous drops of perfume to her every pulse point.

"Hi," she breathed, approaching the blonde.

Arizona turned towards her voice, and she felt her body grow hot as darkened blue eyes took in every inch of her.

Arizona licked her lips. "Hi," she whispered in return.

"Should we go?" Callie hitched her head towards the door. "I'll buy you as many drinks as you want."

Arizona rolled her eyes, and they began walking towards the exit, side-by-side. "I'm the one who invited you. That means I do the buying."

Callie offered her a tender smile. "Please," she scoffed. "You made medical history today. At least let me wiggle my way into your world a little by providing the white wine."

Arizona offered a poignant little smirk, then shook her head.

It was such a small action that — if Callie hadn't been carefully watching the blonde's face — she would have missed it. "What?"

Arizona shook her head more definitively. "It's nothing." She needed a little liquid courage in her before she could be honest with the woman she loved.

Callie's eyes remained trained on her face, however, and — soon — Arizona felt compelled to admit the truth. At least a little bit of it. She huffed, then admitted, "You could be a lot more than the woman who provides me with a celebratory drink, you know." Callie could provide her with everything, and she could provide Callie with everything. If they would only allow each other.

Brown eyes widened in surprise. What had Arizona meant by that? Callie had intended to ask, but the potential was squandered when they walked into Joe's and were immediately overpowered with the sound of loud, animated chatter. "Where did you want to sit?" she asked instead.

Looking around her, Arizona made a face. It was crowded. She should have expected that — it was a Friday, after all — but still, it was disappointing. There weren't any booths available — there were only a few small tables left and two open stools at the bar. "Over there?" she suggested, nodding towards the bar.

Callie nodded, and the two women made their way towards the area they knew well. They knew the venue well, in general, really. It was where they'd had their first encounter. It was where they'd ended up on countless date nights. It was where they'd always gone to celebrate and to mourn, together and apart.

As they sat down, Callie offered the anonymous bartender a dazzling smile. "A glass of pinot noir, please." She looked towards Arizona, silently asking for permission. "And a glass of…"

Arizona nodded. Callie knew what she liked.

"Sauvignon blanc," Callie finished. "Thank you." Then, she turned back towards Arizona, giving the woman her full attention.

Arizona offered Callie a nervous smile. What now? she thought. She hadn't planned anything after inviting Callie out. Sure, there was something she wanted to say — something she needed to say — but she didn't know how to get there. Her truth was too big to just blurt out.

"So," Callie prompted once two wine glasses were set before them. "Should we toast?" She held up her glass. "To you and your mastery?"

Even despite her anxiety, Arizona couldn't help but throw her head back and laugh. Like, come on. She was a confident woman, sure, but there was no way she was going to toast herself and her "mastery" of fetal surgery. That would cross the line into hubris.

Callie felt a smile grow on her face as she listened to her ex-wife's musical, carefree laughter. "Well?" she prompted.

Forcing herself to sober up, Arizona shook her head. "Nuh-uh," she argued. "We are not toasting to only me."

Callie pouted out her lower lip. "To what, then?"

Arizona shrugged. "To growth. To healing. To us."

Callie's eyes twinkled. Welp. She couldn't argue with a toast as sweet as that. "Cheers," she whispered, pushing her glass towards Arizona's.

"Cheers," Arizona countered, clinking her wine glass against Callie's and feeling the vibration flow through her.

They weren't quite touching, but they were close. Their glasses had touched. And they were touching their glasses that had touched each other. Which was almost touching. They were close. So close.

Close, but not close enough.

Arizona took a long gulp of wine, relishing in the way the cold liquid managed to warm her every limb. She swore she could feel the alcohol pulse through her prosthesis, too. And, even acknowledging that the warm feeling was only psychological, it seemed to give her courage.

She released a long breath in preparation, then prompted, "Callie?"

Callie's eyes shot up to Arizona's, and she gulped hard. The time had come, she knew. Arizona was going to talk about something. To really talk. About something real. About something more than Sofia, or surgery, or hospital gossip.

Callie waited.

"I'm happy to just sit here and just have a drink with you," Arizona assured her. "But, also, if you're willing to hear it, there's something I want to say."

Slowly, Callie nodded. "I figured." She paused, then decided, "I want to hear it."

Arizona anxiously bit her lip. She certainly didn't offer up any information. "I'm not sure you do," she admitted. In fact, what she wanted to say would likely send Callie running for the door.

"Are you leaving?" Callie guessed, her face bleaching white at the thought. It was a plausible possibility. Arizona was good. She was one of the best surgeons Callie had ever met. Hospitals anywhere in the world would love having her. Callie knew that.

"What?" Arizona gawked. "Callie, no! Where would I go?"

"I don't know!" Callie defended. "Boston, Malawi, Spain, Switzer-"

Arizona's eyes bulged. "No!" She had never even considered leaving Grey-Sloan, let alone the country. She couldn't leave Sofia, and even though she could technically leave Callie, she couldn't. She couldn't. She wouldn't survive. She couldn't be so far apart from her. Even given the fact that they seemed far apart, already. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh," Callie sighed, a little sheepishly. "Okay."

"Okay," Arizona exhaled, thankful that Callie seemed to have stopped her skittish rambling. She refocused on her objective. "So, I want to say something. And I want you to listen without saying I'm crazy or walking out."

Callie swallowed. Hard. She'd heard those words before. Almost. They'd made her feel sick to her stomach then, and they had the same effect on her in that moment. "O…kay," she offered unsteadily. She was nervous, but she wasn't going anywhere. She wasn't going to bail. It was far too late for that.

Arizona absentmindedly traced the condensation line on her glass then finally looked up and into curious brown eyes. She asserted: "I want to have a baby."

Her heart pounded. Once, twice, three times.

Pound.

Pound.

Pound.

That was all she could hear. Not the small talk around her. Only her rhythmic heartbeat and Callie's deafening silence.

Bravely, she continued: "With you. I want to have another baby with you."

"You…" Callie paused, unable to make words. "But we…" She shook her head, trying to make sense of Arizona's statement. At last, she surrendered, "I don't get it."

"You wanted a baby," Arizona clarified. "Well, we both did. Before the divorce. But I wanted the fellowship, too. And it just…" She shrugged helplessly. "It wasn't right. And I wasn't ready then. But I'm ready now."

"Ready to…" Callie's eyes shifted. "Have a baby? With me?"

"Yes," Arizona hissed assertively.

Callie was still in shock. What was Arizona saying? That she wanted her back?

"Callie, please," Arizona pleaded, her face falling when Callie still didn't offer a response. "Is it really so crazy? Thinking that we could be together?"

"No," Callie argued, not wanting her ex-wife to think that was what she was thinking. It wasn't crazy at all. She had changed. She had changed, she had grown, she had healed. And so had Arizona.

And, yet, even while all the hurts of their pasts had lessened, their love for one another had only grown stronger.

And their devotion to one another — and to one another's wants and desires — was still there.

Is it really so crazy? No. It wasn't crazy in the slightest.

"It's just…" She paused, then held up her hands, promising, "I'm not walking out. I'm just….processing."

Silently, Arizona nodded. She knew better than anyone that processing time was vital.

"You want to have a baby." Callie repeated a minute later. "With me."

"Yes. If you still do."

Callie expelled a long breath. "I don't…" she paused, attempting to articulate her statement. "I don't even know how much I wanted a baby, before. I just...wanted you to stay. I knew you weren't happy — that we weren't happy — and I, somewhat selfishly, wanted something to draw us closer."

"That makes sense." Callie's response provided Arizona with new, unexpected information, but what she'd said was understandable. Arizona had been equally desperate to keep their marriage intact. So much so that she had been blind to how convoluted it had become, forcing Callie to break the cycle in the end.

"But," Arizona countered. "We're not there anymore. A baby won't make me stay, because I'm not going anywhere, regardless. And a baby won't cause one of us to bend or break. Not anymore. I'd love to have a baby with you, Calliope, but if that's not something you want…" She shrugged. "I'll still want you. All of you. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you. Whether that means growing our family or not."

Callie's breath hitched. She felt her heart take off in her chest. She felt her stomach begin to bubble. "You do?"

Arizona nodded emphatically, ensuring that Callie would hear her. Loud and clear. "As it turns out, I can live without ten kids. I can even live without you — we can both live with without each other. But I don't want to, anymore. I've had to for long enough. And I'm tired, Callie."

Callie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Tired? "Tired of what?"

"Of not being to love you the way I could be," Arizona responded simply. "Of not being able to kiss you, or come home to you, or remind you of how miraculous you are."

"You are," Callie breathed. "Miraculous," she finished reverently. "And I'm tired, too. I'm tired of living without you."

Arizona exhaled a shuddering breath, relieved to hear the words she'd ached for. Relieved to hear that she wasn't alone - that it wasn't just her - that Callie still loved her, too.

"And I don't want to do it, anymore," Callie continued. "I want you, and I want to have a baby with you — planned, this time — but I want you regardless. I want you now. I want us to make each other happy, the way we should have before. The way we're meant to."

She was devoted to creating a whole, beautiful, real, flawed, and perfect life with Arizona. She was devoted to creating the life she had always been certain they would share.

And Arizona was devoted to the very same thing.

"Okay," Arizona decided, after a silent, comfortable moment passed between. "So...we're together."

Callie offered a small shrug and a sly smile. "I guess so. Because I love you, and you love me, and we want the same thing."

"Each other," Arizona breathed. Their priorities were in line. To love each other. Immeasurably and indefinitely.

Callie's smile expanded, and she leaned forward — consuming Arizona's senses. As if in slow motion, she leaned towards a milk face and pink lips, prepared to initiate the first kiss of many.

Before Arizona could feel those gorgeous, full lips on her own, Callie pulled back, unknowingly leaving her tortured and waiting. She smirked. "Isn't it kind of ironic? That this is where we first met, and it's where we're...meeting again?"

No one had ever been able to roll her eyes so affectionately. "Yes, Calliope," she sassed. "It's ironic." Once again, her eyes flickered to those plump lips, and she leaned forward. With a voice that was both demanding and breathy with love and desire, she insisted, "Now kiss me."

So Callie kissed her. They kissed each other, pouring out their love. Sweetly, devotedly, reverently, deeply, passionately, lovingly.

It was the sweetest devotion.