Written after 12x08. Way AU.


"Arizona, what are you doing?" Callie demanded. She didn't like the uncertainty that came with Arizona's sudden interest in her. She didn't like Arizona talking to her again, or smiling at her, or acting as if they ever meant anything to each other.

She had grown accustomed to their habit of — for the most part — ignoring one another. That had been comfortable. The compliments, the coffees, and the gorgeous, gorgeous smiles, however, were not.

They made everything confusing. They made Callie question everything. And that terrified her.

"Huh?" Arizona balked, surprised by her ex-wife's harsh words.

Callie huffed and led them into the nearest on-call room to avoid making a scene. She slammed the door behind them, facing Arizona head on. "What the hell are you doing?" she repeated, her voice raising in volume in the protection of the small room.

With wide eyes, Arizona scraped up the strength to tell Callie the truth. To really tell her. Hiding was exhausting. She didn't want to hide anything, anymore. She wanted to get everything out. What did she have to lose?

"Well?" Callie demanded, fearful anger clear in her scolding voice.

Which only served to anger Arizona. There she was — attempting to follow her heart and show Callie how much she loved her — and Callie wouldn't accept it. "I'm trying to love you!" she exclaimed impatiently. "Why won't you let me?"

Well, those words served to make every bit of fury and annoyance to fall from Callie's face as she stiffened. She stared at Arizona, wide eyed and stunned into silence. "What?"

Arizona released a huff of hot air, forcing herself to calm down. She didn't want to be angry. She didn't want Callie to be angry. She just wanted them to love each other, again. "I'm so much more than the person I was when we divorced," she whispered. It was the truth. She hadn't been fully healed, then, and she had been fearful to go after what she had wanted.

Now, though, she was healed. Entirely. She had recovered from the plane crash and her subsequent PTSD, and her life was perfect. Almost. It was missing one, irreplaceable aspect: Callie.

And, now, she was ready to tell Callie that. And to show Callie just how much she wanted her, and just how committed she truly was. If Callie would only listen.

"Me, too…" Callie began, her voice unsure.

"Right," Arizona smiled patiently. "We both are. We're better. Stronger. And I know what I want. Do you?"

Callie shrugged. Since her breakup with Penny, she had done a fair amount of soul-searching. For a long time, she had been unsure of her desires, but more recently, she knew. She wanted to continue to make discoveries in her work; she wanted to continue to help amputees; she wanted to surround herself with worthy friends; she wanted to spend time with Sofia; and she wanted someone who loved her fully, and selflessly, and completely. The way Arizona once had.

"Yeah," she finally conceded. "I do."

Arizona nodded, her eyes locked with Callie's. "Do you want to know what I want?"

Callie felt her heart begin to beat faster in her chest. Of course she wanted to know. She wanted to know Arizona's every thought — she always had — but the blonde had rarely been open to sharing. Innately, Arizona had always been such a conundrum, and Callie had always been eager to learn anything the blonde had been willing to share. And that hadn't changed. Even now.

Exhaling a long breath, Callie nodded in surrender. Yes. She wanted to know.

Arizona smiled softly, pleased that Callie hadn't completely rejected her. Then, she felt her heart stop beating as she uttered her truth: "I want to be with the love of my life," she admitted. "I want you."

Arizona paused. Callie gaped. A pager went off — neither woman knew whose. A siren sounded outside.

And, when Callie still didn't say anything a second later, Arizona rambled, "And I know it comes as a surprise. I mean, we've been divorced for two years, and I never said anything, and you've moved on, and—"

"I haven't," Callie interrupted. Her voice was low but sure.

"You…?" Arizona stopped short, needing more words than that to make sense of Callie's meaning.

Callie's lips lifted into something between a smirk and a sneer — as if she was both pleased and disappointed by the truth in her claim. "There's no moving on from you, Arizona," she admitted. "Ever."

"I…" Arizona paused, a breath hissing from her lips as her eyes traveled over Callie's honest face. "Yeah," she finally breathed. "You, either. And…everything went wrong before — and both of us loved each other so much, but couldn't stand the hopeless cycle we were stuck in," she continued. "And we broke free."

Callie nodded. It had been the hardest thing she had ever done, but she had known that one of them needed to break the vicious cycle of pain and blame.

"And we've changed," Arizona repeated. "And while — still — all I want is for you to be happy, now I think that I'm the one who can help make you the happiest." She was confident that she and Callie could be their happiest together. The way they used to be. But better. And so, so much stronger.

"I love you," she promised, her eyes filling with inevitable tears. Love, love, love, love, love. She loved Callie. She loved her. The thought consumed her mind. Constantly. It filled her. "And I've been trying to show you," she continued. "To remind you. To do what I can — smile at you, bring you coffee, compliment you — to make you happy. To show you how miraculous you are, and how miraculous I find you. Still. Always."

With her heart exploding in her chest and her roseate cheeks flushing, an astonished smile slowly came across her lips. Arizona still loved her. And always. Fully, and selflessly, and completely. Undeniably.

She wasn't just a person who loved Callie the way she wanted to be loved. She was the person Callie wanted to be loved by.

Callie hadn't allowed herself to want Arizona in so long. She hadn't allowed herself to want Arizona's love in so long. Not since she thought she could no longer make the blonde happy. Wanting had been futile.

She remembered a conversation she had once had with her father. He had gruffly asked: Does she make you happy?

And Callie had laughed. The mere thought of Arizona had made her happy. Yes, Dad. She makes me very happy.

It had been true all those years ago. And it was true in that moment.

Arizona made her very happy. Arizona made her happiest. And — though Arizona also had the power to hurt her more than anyone — maybe the pain was worth the risk. Because happiness with Arizona was a certainty. And Arizona seemed committed to bringing Callie that happiness. More than ever before, she seemed committed.

It had taken two years, but Arizona had healed. She had figured out what she wanted. She had figured out what and whom she wanted to put energy into. She had figured out what made her happy, and who she wanted to make happy: Callie.

And Callie knew she wanted Arizona. In that moment, she knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life making Arizona happy. She wanted them to be happy together.

She shook her head, staring into Arizona's eyes in wonder. She felt as if she could marvel at her forever. And it thrilled her that — soon — she'd be able to.

"I'll let you love me. For the rest of our lives," Callie began, a smile teasing her lips. "As long as you let me love you back just as much."