How long Arizona had waited—lying in bed, shut-eyed in some semblance of prayer—for Callie to come back to her. All that angst, that constant missing, and that time she absentmindedly began an email beginning with please come home only to quickly delete it. And how hard she had tried to ease that aching to no avail, to forget the past, all their history, Callie's voice her favorite sound.

How hard she had tried to erase the memory of that bathroom kiss, her pounding heart, only then to realize she couldn't. Because how could she forget? How could she forget the warm wind of Callie's breath on her shoulder as they slept entwined? How could she forget all the laughs, the touch?

She couldn't forget, she realized. And then she realized she didn't even want to.

And that was when she started talking—really talking, about more than just Sofia—to Callie again. That was when she decided that, maybe, Seattle wasn't home. Because what was home without Callie?

Yes. It was then that she decided that, maybe, her future was in New York. With Callie.

And, well, Callie seemed open to the idea—more than open. Excited, welcoming, warm. And that was how Arizona found herself accepting Callie's offer to "stay with me until you find a place." It was how she found herself, at that very moment, sitting on Callie's couch, an occasional quiet snore echoing off the walls of Sofia's bedroom.

Callie, who had just refilled their water glasses, sat down beside her on the couch. Arizona took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her. They had been watching Masterchef before but, now, the TV was off and there they were, alone, in darkness, sitting in silence.

Finally, it was Callie who broke the invisible barrier.

"It feels crazy—you being here." There was something about the darkness that made her feel like she could say things she couldn't in the light. She felt less exposed, maybe, knowing that Arizona couldn't see every detail of her face.

Arizona searched her face—what little she could see of it. "'Crazy' good?"

Callie nodded. "Yeah." She searched for the right word. "Surreal. I mean…well," she looked down at her hands, "I've imagined you here a lot."

Arizona watched her, noticing the way the line between her eyebrows deepened as she continued to stare at her hands, rethinking what she said. It was a new wrinkle. Or, well, a stress line. Something that Callie hadn't had when they'd last been together. Without thinking, Arizona reached out, wanting to smooth it out with her thumb.

As soon as she felt Arizona's touch, Callie flinched away from her, eyebrows furrowing, that line deepening more.

Arizona's eyes widened. "I'm sorry," she began. "I just…"

"It's okay," Callie hurried to assure her. "I, uh…" She sighed. "Sorry. I just wasn't expecting that." Gently, she rested her hand on Arizona's leg, wanting to assure her that she wasn't afraid of touching her and didn't think she was a leper or something. They'd had enough misunderstandings for a lifetime already. She wanted Arizona to know that, well…that she wanted her. But how could she ever come out and say it?

At the feel of Callie's hand on her thigh, Arizona stifled a shiver. "You know…ever since losing my leg-"

Callie couldn't bear the thought of the woman she loved most resenting her. "Arizona, I'm so sorr-"

Arizona turned to face her, wide-eyed. "No," she interrupted. "Don't be sorry." She hadn't intended to talk about this but, now, she figured it was as good a chance as any to clear it up and move on once and for all. "I owe you a thank you. You saved my life. And then you kept saving it. I wouldn't be here without you."

Callie offered her a close-lipped smile.

"And not just here, in New York, I mean," Arizona continued, picking up speed in her nervousness. "I wouldn't be anywhere. Alive, I mean. I just…I owe you. More than I can ever repay you, probably."

Callie's smile spread across her features, unable to help herself from softening. Her fingers moved a little on Arizona's leg—a caress. "I did it out of love," she vowed. "You don't owe me anything."

Arizona exhaled a tremulous breath, realizing that Callie just said the word love, that her fingers were still brushing against her leg, never stilling.

"What I was going to say," Arizona tried again, "is sometimes it feels like I have more than a limb missing."

Callie continued to look at her, clearly confused, and Arizona took another risk to try to touch her, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. Buying time.

This time, Callie didn't flinch. She sat stock-still, as if fearing any movement she made would wake her from this dream. Only it wasn't a dream. That she knew.

"This sounds crazy," Arizona's voice lowered to a whisper, "but, sometimes, I still have phantom pains where you last touched me. I'll be in surgery or out on a walk and it's like I feel your hands in my hair again, or your arms around me, just for a second."

Callie exhaled an amused breath out of her nose. She found Arizona's hand, still resting against her hair, and brought it to her lips. "It doesn't sound crazy at all." She gave it a feather-light kiss. She couldn't help but inhale the scent of skin, entwine their fingers together. "I missed you, too."

Arizona felt the catch growing in her throat. "Calliope…" she breathed.

"Just the way you're looking at me now," Callie continued, "the way you see me—I've missed that like crazy."

Arizona squeezed her hand, smiling through her watering eyes. "I've always seen you."

Callie nodded. "I know." And she did.

"And I wanted you from the start, even when I tried to pretend I didn't," Arizona added.

They both laughed a little at that, recalling the time Arizona had dubbed Callie a "newborn."

Arizona looked deeply into Callie's expressive eyes. She decided to put it all on the table. "I don't want to waste any more time."

Callie was on the same page. "When I invited you to stay here until you could find a place of your own, I was hoping…well, I was hoping that, maybe, I could get you to fall in love with me again."

Arizona laughed. "I don't think I could ever not be in love with you," she admitted. "I have been, even these past few years apart."

"Me, too," Callie admitted. Penny was only a distant memory now. "Everywhere I went, I found myself searching for you. And I-"

"Callie?" Arizona cut in.

Callie looked up to see Arizona's eyes fixed on her mouth.

"I want…" Arizona licked her lips. "I want to kiss you." Finally, she met Callie's eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

Immediately, Callie felt her heartrate accelerate. Her lip quirked up into a smile. "Please."

And, in a second, Callie recalled every ounce of wonder she had ever felt for Arizona. How one second she was thoughtful, the next sweet, the next polite, and then, suddenly, taking charge, pulling Callie to her with surprising strength.

Callie moaned at the feel of her lips, at the way Arizona moved into the motion, opening her mouth and tasting her taste. Her hand tightened on black hair, her fervor deepening, and she pulled Callie impossibly closer, resulting in the brunette falling backwards and Arizona falling forward, heat on heat, Callie's thighs around her hips and legs.

Callie let out a breathless laugh. "God, Arizona."

Amused, Arizona searched her face for answers. "What is it?" She lifted herself up by her hands, and Callie couldn't help but hiss in pleasure at the motion, the way it added a warm pressure where she wanted it most. How did Arizona still manage to have that effect on her after so long?

Callie lifted her head enough to kiss Arizona's cheek. "I was just thinking I might be in Heaven."

Arizona smiled in delight, her cheeks visibly reddening despite the lowlight. "I love you, too."

And, early the next morning, Sofia tiptoed into her mom's room to find Arizona cocooned in Callie's arms, their legs likely intertwined beneath the sheets, sleeping with smiles on their faces.