No.

No. No. No. No. No.

She cannot believe she just did that— she cannot believe she just did that. It doesn't, it doesn't make sense.

Arizona frantically slams the first floor elevator button over and over again, and she can feel Callie watching her as the doors start to slide shut. Just before they snick closed entirely, she chances a look at Callie and she can see the bright red marks on Callie's chest starting to fade.

Oh, God.

Arizona wants her again already.

Callie had just been so open, and so beautiful, and she had been watching Arizona the way she used to, when she loved Arizona. It's been such a long time since Callie looked at her and it didn't hurt. Arizona's always loved Callie's eyes. She hadn't realized how much she missed them.

The elevator smells like Callie, which doesn't make sense until Arizona realizes that she smells like Callie. Callie's in her lungs.

Arizona leans against the railing, putting her face in her hands. She hears Callie's voice in her head, saying she needed out. Saying she didn't plan it, she just needed to get away from Arizona. Suffocating, yet again. And maybe Callie says that Arizona didn't do anything wrong, maybe she even believes that, but it can't actually be true. If Arizona did nothing wrong, they would still be together. If she hadn't made Callie so damn miserable, Callie wouldn't have left.

Arizona takes a few gasping breaths. She can feel the edges of a panic attack closing in on her.

Because, yes, she understands why Callie did it. She meant what she said. But it's one thing to understand why your friend ended her marriage, and another to trust your ex-wife enough to— what? Get back together? It's obvious that's what Callie wants.

Arizona wheezes. She slides to the floor, gripping the metal railing attached to the elevator wall.

She never should've come here tonight.

Five seconds of attention and her teeth are closing around Callie's earlobe— stupid.

She just loves Callie so much. She's never been able to not love Callie.

And, and, she had listened to Arizona. Callie listened to Arizona, and Arizona listened to Callie, and they understood each other. Of course Arizona caved.

The elevator comes to a stop in the lobby of Callie's building, the doors part. There's a man there, looking tired and gray in his work clothes.

He does a double take when he sees Arizona crouching on the floor, hand pressed to her chest, trying to force herself back into her body.

"Ma'am?" he asks, kneeling down in front of her. "Are you alright?"

Arizona shakes her head. She gulps in a deep breath, then forces it slowly through her teeth. A primal, instinctual shudder travels up her body before she can clench her teeth around it.

She's fine. This isn't a big deal. So she fucked up tonight. Whatever, she's done it before. She made a terrible, reckless mistake, but she can come back from it. The sudden presence of a stranger grounds her, lets herself see the situation from the outside for a second. And he's a nice stranger, too, she can tell. He has kind eyes.

Arizona pulls herself up, swiping at her cheeks for tears and realizing she hasn't actually cried any, which is a relief. One less embarrassment to deal with.

"I'm okay. I'm, I'm good," she says, voice wavering.

He frowns at her. "Well, okay. If you say so."

She nods at the stranger, smoothing down her shirt. Her heart is still pounding. "I do, I'm fine. Thank you, though. You, uh, have a nice night."

"I'll try my best," he jokes, and it's the thin, awkward sort of joke that people who don't know each other make just to have something to say.

The man steps out of the way so Arizona can pass him, which she does. Politely holds her hand in front of the doors as he gets on so they don't shut on him before she's turning back towards the exit.

The panic sits low in her stomach, more manageable than when it pushes up into her chest. Not quite okay, but manageable. She'll just act like everything is normal, and then eventually it will be. Even if the low thrum of adrenaline is still making the tips of her ears buzz.

Then she remembers.

"Oh, crap."

Callie and her had agreed to do Thanksgiving together tonight. Thanksgiving is in a week.


Arizona wobbles a little on the tippy-toes of her right foot as she tries to hang the last string of paper turkeys she and Ava had made earlier that day. She stumbles, almost toppling over.

"Just wait for Callie to do it," Ava scolds her, snipping away at yet more autumn-themed cardstock. Arizona huffs. She narrows her eyes at Ava, shaking her head. Callie has sort of become a sore subject, lately. "Fine, whatever. At least use the chair."

Ava points at one of the rocking chairs next to her bed. Like she wants Arizona to break her ankle.

But it's Thanksgiving, and Arizona loves holidays, so she drags the chair over to the far wall, climbs onto it gracelessly because she doesn't quite know where her center of gravity is on any given day.

The chair wobbles as she attempts to pin Ava's decorations to the wall, all of her weight balanced on her good foot.

"Get down from there," Gloria's voice demands behind her, and Arizona can't help her sigh of relief. Finally, another adult.

Arizona turns just enough to see Gloria, "You do it, then." And gleefully steps down.

Gloria snatches the thumb-tacks out of Arizona's hand, glaring, and steps up onto the chair. Arizona smirks at Ava. She's more than happy to settle back in her own chair and let Gloria— who's shorter than her, by the way— struggle to pin up handprint turkeys.

Ava and Arizona share a look behind her mother's back.

"So, what are you two doing for tonight?" Arizona asks, holding out her hand for a pair of scissors and a piece of colored paper. She might as well be helpful.

Gloria barks a short laugh, trying to balance one foot on the arm of the chair to get a little extra height. It seesaws dangerously under her. "I am buying us a rotisserie chicken from the deli and Ava is going to force me to watch the Wizard of Oz for the five hundredth time."

"It's tradition," Ava supplies, handing Arizona the materials.

Arizona takes them. She shoots Ava a quick smile. "If you want, you can always spend it with us," she says thoughtlessly and then she freezes.

Gloria's eyes get wide and she gets this panicked look, eyes darting to Ava. "That's very kind of you and Callie, but this year might—"

"No, I," Arizona jumps in, words stumbling. "I don't know why I said that, of course you can't, I— I mean clearly—"

"You can say it," Ava interrupts. "I can't leave this hospital. You can say it, it's true."

"Ava..." Arizona trails off.

She stands, walking over to the hospital bed. She brushes a piece of hair away from Ava's forehead, searching for the right words. The best she can come up with is, "Well, it's a good thing you've got the best mom in the world to pick you up a chicken, huh?"

Ava nods. She turns the pair of scissors in her hands. "I think we need more beige paper."

Arizona clears her throat. "And that's exactly why you also have the best doctor in the world. I'll go grab some." She looks to Gloria for confirmation before walking towards the doorway. "Hey," Arizona pauses as she's headed out. "I'll be back in twenty, sergeant. Don't get any ideas while I'm gone," she teases, giving Ava a small salute.

It works just the way she wanted it to: Ava rolls her eyes because she's almost a teenager and way too cool for that, and Gloria offers her a small, grateful smile from across the room.

Arizona winks at her before she goes, off to find crafting supplies for a sick kid.


That afternoon finds Arizona standing in the hallway outside of Callie's apartment, which seems to be a trend for her lately.

She lifts her hand to knock, hesitating for a second. If she leaves now, nobody will know any better. She could send Callie some lame text about being stuck in the office and go home to drink an entire bottle of red wine on her own. Maybe even call Nicole to see if she wants to be self-destructively alone, together.

The door swings open before she has the chance. "Hi," Callie grins, one hand clutching a bright orange oven mitt. "Thought I heard you out there. Come in, come in."

Arizona smiles distantly, stepping through the entrance. "It smells great, Callie," she compliments, slipping out of her coat.

She can feel Callie's eyes on her back, on the way it flexes as she pulls at the sleeves of her jacket. It would all be so much easier if Callie would stop looking at her like that: slow, unhurried, like she has all the time in the world.

"Thanks." Callie shuts the door behind them with a click. She rolls her shoulder back, stretching slightly so the neckline of her shirt strains. Arizona forces her eyes away.

"Sofia?" she asks, needing to not be alone with Callie as soon as possible.

Callie cocks her head like she knows something Arizona doesn't. Arizona ignores that. "In her room. She's making cards. It's kind of adorable."

Arizona huffs a laugh, making her way to Sofia's bedroom door. "Well I'd better… I should… yeah."

There's a smile pulling at one corner of Callie's mouth as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. "You do that."

It's almost insulting how Callie is so obviously waiting Arizona out, how she's assumed that this is a foregone conclusion. She's so heavy-handed, like a switch flipped in her at some point and she just decided they were going to be fine. Not just fine, but together. And, to her, it's as if Arizona simply hasn't caught up yet. Callie's acting like it's inevitable.

She has completely failed to consider the idea that Arizona has loved her for over a decade and she is scared out of her fucking mind.

Arizona shakes the thoughts out of her head, shoving them deep into a little, overflowing box labeled Callie Issues. She knocks softly on Sofia's bedroom door.

"You can't come in, mama," a muffled voice comes from inside. "I'm making your card now."

Arizona turns the knob, peeking her head into the room. "What if it's mommy? Can she come in?"

Sofia glances up, "No!" and shoves a bright yellow piece of paper into the drawer of her desk. She eyes Arizona warily, like maybe Arizona is trying to trick her into showing her the card early. "... Fine. But you have to promise not to go in there." She points at the drawer.

Arizona grins. She settles onto Sofia's bed. "Scout's honor," she says, holding up three fingers in the motion Tim taught her after she threw a tantrum over not being allowed to join up. Sofia seems satisfied. "Whatcha got there?"

"It's a 4mm Hibbes osteotome," Sofia recites from memory, mispronouncing osteotome. She colors in the handle a pale gray.

"The superior of all bone chisels," Arizona pauses dramatically, cocking her head. "Good choice."

Sofia grins at her. "I'm gonna write I find you humerus under it since it's for mama." She frowns. "But I can't choose which color."

"When in doubt, go with red," Arizona suggests, scooching forward so she can make sure Sofia is spelling humerus correctly. Sofia leans back slightly so Arizona can see.

Callie was right, this is adorable. Sofia is taking her cards very seriously, her Ipad propped against the windowsill with a reference photo pulled up.

Arizona's hit with gratitude for the fact that her daughter is here, and her daughter is healthy, and she suddenly becomes aware that she's been taking that for granted, lately. The unmistakable feeling of guilt comes makes her shift uncomfortably.

She remembers how alone she was in the early days, when Callie was still recovering and she kept a log of how many times Sofia's heart stopped in the middle of the night.

It was hell. She felt so isolated.

"I'll be right back," Arizona mumbles, ruffling Sofia's hair.

She stands up from the bed, heads out into the kitchen where Callie is still cooking.

Callie's standing at the island, thermometer in hand, when Arizona comes in. Her face is flushed and her hair is wild and sexy, curling at her roots from the oven heat. "Arizona, hey," she says. "I was just about to check the turkey, but if you want to do the honors?"

Arizona takes the thermometer from Callie carefully, balancing it in her palm. She scrunches up her face. "You're gonna kill me."

Callie's eyebrows furrow immediately. "What? Why?"

"Because you've made all of this incredible food, and it looks delicious, and you worked so hard," Arizona groans, jabbing the needle into the thickest part of the turkey. She hates asking Callie for anything, especially now. "But…"

"But?"

"I miss Ava." She grimaces, watching the numbers tick higher until they show their turkey is done. "And I feel bad about leaving them both alone for Thanksgiving. I mean, it's Thanksgiving, Callie! And they're, they're family."

Callie laughs at the expression on Arizona's face, quickly covering her mouth when Arizona shoots her a betrayed glare. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just— I miss Ava."

"You do?"

"Yeah! Duh." Callie shakes her head. "I miss Ava all the time."

"Oh." Arizona's mouth snaps shut. "Oh! Thank God."

"Should we…" Callie trails off meaningfully.

"I mean, I think, yeah? Right?" Arizona pulls out the thermometer, tossing it in the sink without asking.

Callie grins, reaching for a Thanksgiving-themed dish towel to dry her hands. "I'll grab the tupperware."


Sofia is ecstatic at the idea of spending Thanksgiving at the hospital, and insists on carrying the pie herself the whole way from the lobby to Ava's room. Arizona keeps making alarmed faces and preemptively reaching out every time Sofia makes a sudden movement, and Callie's been quietly snickering every time.

Arizona glares at her, forgetting for a second that she isn't supposed to look at Callie for too long. Or let Callie look at her.

"Dr. Torres!" a perky voice calls from their left. Callie turns on instinct, Arizona and Sofia doing the same almost immediately after.

There's a pretty woman walking towards them from the nurses' station. She's tall and green-eyed, freckles. Looks a lot like Penny, if Penny were interesting to look at.

The woman tilts her chin up and lowers her lashes at Callie innocently, which Arizona thinks is a bit hamfisted. And also Arizona's move, which Arizona thinks is a bit insulting. "Didn't think we'd be seeing you around here today."

"No, yeah, yes, that was the plan. Originally." Callie's eyes bounce from the woman to Arizona nervously, subconsciously drying her sweaty palm against her jeans. And, oh, Arizona gets it. This is a thing. "But, you know, plans change! Right, Arizona?"

"I didn't know you had a new girlfriend." She turns towards Arizona.

Arizona plasters on a smile, holding out her hand for an introduction. "She doesn't." Soft grip. Arizona feels petty for respecting her less. "I'm Sofia's other mom."

More-Interesting-Penny's eyes fill with recognition. "You're the ex."

Arizona blinks at her, pulling her hand back. Still smiling. "Well, it was nice meeting you but I'm afraid I have to find Ava. You two should finish your conversation, though."

Arizona places her hand between Sofia's shoulder blades, ushering her down the hall. She can hear Callie making some stuttering excuses and stumbling after them, but she keeps her eyes straight forward.

They reach the familiar entrance of Ava's room, and Arizona takes a deep breath. She rolls her shoulders back, glancing at Callie briefly. "She seems nice," she says, and Callie opens her mouth but Arizona doesn't give her a chance to respond.

Arizona bursts through the door, yelling, "Surprise!"

Gloria and Ava are huddled on the tiny bed, two plastic forks and a single rotisserie chicken, as promised. They stare at Arizona in shock, and then Ava breaks into a huge smile.

"Is that a real turkey?" she asks before she can remember that she's supposed to be apathetic and aloof.

Arizona shoves the turkey onto one of the tiny tables around Ava's room, avoiding eye-contact with Callie. "Only if you trust Dr. Torres's cooking," she teases lightly. Her cheeks ache.

Gloria stands automatically to help Sofia set the pie on another table, and Callie corners Arizona by setting the mashed potatoes and other sides next to the turkey.

She lowers her voice, saying, "Will you at least look at me?"

So Arizona looks at her. Forces the brightest smile she can. "Huh? Oh, that? It's fine, it's, it's none of my business. Really."

"Don't give me that. It's your business and we both know it." Callie braces her hands against the table, exasperated, and Arizona can't believe Callie is doing this right now. She's barely holding herself together, and Callie is doing this now.

"Just… just stand there and listen, okay? Think you can do that?" Callie asks. Arizona rolls her jaw, nodding slightly. "She's a nurse, sometimes she flirts with me, sometimes I let her. That's it, that's all of it. And lately, I haven't been… letting her."

"Honestly, Callie, you don't owe me an explanation," Arizona brushes her off. She means it, too. They're not together, Callie doesn't owe her anything. Least of all this. It would be so hypocritical, so backwards, so—

"Seriously, Arizona?" Callie huffs. "After everything we've been through, you really think that's gonna work on me?"

"Look," Arizona almost snaps because Callie is poking at all the wrong places when Arizona is trying so hard to be okay. Because it wouldn't be fair, it wouldn't be right, to do something as selfish as that when Arizona is this. She's a mess, she can't engage here. Arizona grabs her jealousy by the throat and squeezes.

"I need to find a bathroom. Can you handle Sofia?"

Callie makes a frustrated noise and reaches out for Arizona, but she moves too slowly. Arizona takes two quick steps back from the table, grabs her purse, and then two more steps before she's out the door.

She tugs open the zipper on her purse as she cuts through the hallway, fumbling for her cigarettes. She keeps her hand in her purse to hide what she's doing, flips open the lid to see how many she has left.

One.

Great.

Arizona doesn't even smoke that much. She should've quit when smoking stopped actually doing anything for her, but at this point she doesn't know how to feel sad without her fingers getting twitchy. Muscle memory more than anything else. She needs something familiar and safe, and this is it.

Arizona finds her way to the stairs with roof access, intermittently thumbing at the last cigarette in her pack with every step she takes. It's calming. It helps. It should work.

As she pushes through the tiny, hidden doorway she thinks that maybe she could just be better. That, maybe, if she were a better person, she wouldn't need any of this. The November air biting into her skin, the promise of a spark between rolling pieces of metal in her hand. Callie. If Arizona was better, she definitely wouldn't need Callie.

But she isn't better. Sometimes she's barely even good.

So she keeps flicking that one, last cigarette against the pad of her thumb, not quite willing to light it because it's all she has left. One shot, and she can't waste it.

She gets maybe fifteen minutes before Callie finds her staring at the skyline, not even strong enough to make a goddamn decision.

Callie sighs, catching sight of the pack in Arizona's hands. It's so much like that night at the bar.

Arizona can feel Callie noticing her posture, her unfocused eyes. Callie gently pries the cigarettes from Arizona's hands, dropping them haphazardly onto the rough floor. They fall with a dull thud.

There's a long second after that where Calllie is considering her and Arizona is pretending not to notice. Callie seems to be deciding what to say. Eventually, it happens. The bad thing.

"I love you."

Arizona looks at her sadly, her bottom lip trapped under her top. "Don't," she whispers. "Don't do this. You can't undo this."

"What if I don't want to?" Callie turns her body towards Arizona's, pressing herself into Arizona's space. Trapping her against a wall and the city lights.

Arizona looks even sadder. "You will."

Callie deflates, her shoulders curving to match Arizona's. She isn't sure, either. She can't be.

Arizona realizes that Callie knows exactly how much is on the line here. She doesn't think it's inevitable, she knows better than that. It's all bravado. This is just the only way she knows how to take risks: all in, all at once.

"What if it's true?" Callie asks.

Arizona doesn't respond. Bends down to gather up her cigarettes, stuffing them in the pocket of her coat. She studies Callie's expression as she straightens up.

"We should— we should probably head back inside," she murmurs, patting Callie on the shoulder as she starts to leave. "Sofia will be wondering where we are."

Arizona starts slipping past Callie, letting their fingertips brush briefly and it's a mistake because then Callie is tangling their fingers together, tugging Arizona flush against her.

She kisses her, hard and sweet, holding Arizona by her hips. It's their first kiss, their first real kiss, since Callie left her and it is gentleness itself. The bar, the hallway, those were impulses. They were reckless and greedy, and both were something Arizona could recover from someday.

This isn't.

And it isn't heart-rending. It's gut-rending. It tears open her abdomen and turns her into some senseless, desperate thing. Desire is a disease.

Callie's mouth is generous and soft. She can't help but open her own, let Callie slip her tongue inside.

The kiss isn't about sex, not even a little bit. Arizona can't remember the last time she kissed someone and it wasn't about sex. It might've still been Callie.

When she pulls back, she brushes a loose strand of hair out of Callie's face and stares into her eyes. So dark they seem to take everything. Light-eating.

"I never got over you, you know," Arizona says bitterly. Then she laughs. "Of course you know."

Callie rests her forehead against Arizona's, closing her eyes. "I do." Her fingers dig into Arizona's hip bones. Arizona shivers. "I know everything about you."


Arizona leaves Callie on the roof because they've decided they shouldn't go back in together, both of them still cognizant of what this would do to Sofia. Arizona feels a bit like she's in a hydroplaning car, except she could just get out if she wanted to. She keeps not getting out.

Tonight will not be the last time Callie kisses her. It can't be. She's not ready to stop yet.

Ava's room is bright and warm when Arizona gets there, smelling of turkey and spiced apple and the sterile material the hospital uses to clean the machines.

"Hey!" Gloria welcomes her back. Her hair is down for the first time since Arizona's known her, tumbling around her shoulders in turbulent curls.

Arizona smiles back tightly. "Hey, yourself. I hope the girls didn't give you too much trouble."

"Are you kidding?" Gloria laughs. She points to where Sofia has climbed up into Ava's bed and they're both staring intently at Ava's D.S. "They're kind of obsessed with each other. I think we've discovered the easiest parenting trick ever." She hands Arizona a paper plate for her food. "Where's Callie?"

Arizona fixes the smile to her face. "Oh, she's, you know, around."

Gloria raises her eyebrows. "Uh-huh."

"Don't," Arizona murmurs, and it seems to be the word of the day. The theme of her life, really— begging everyone, everything to stop.

"I didn't say anything." Gloria starts piling her plate high with food again, reaching in front of Arizona to get at the mashed potatoes.

Arizona holds out her plate for Gloria to give her a scoop too, and grabs a second one for Sofia. "Yeah, you're always not saying anything. It's like your thing."

"Callie says it's because I'm such a chismosa that if I started I would never stop," she says, and Arizona snorts.

"Callie says a lot of things," she responds before she can stop herself.

Arizona's hands are almost shaking as she finishes up her's and Sofia's plates, but she has a lot of practice keeping them steady and she's trying to act like she isn't having a crisis. So she hands off one plate to Sofia, kissing her forehead before retreating back to where Gloria is standing in the corner.

"She looks like you," Arizona says, pointing at Ava with her fork.

Gloria grins proudly. "Oh, she's an Andaya, alright. She's got the eyes."

"So, Gale, that's…" Arizona trails off, and she knows she shouldn't ask but she's standing here with her ex-wife's best friend and her tongue is feeling dangerously loose.

"Her father's last name." Gloria sips her drink, voice lowered so the girls can't hear her. She doesn't seem to mind the question. "I kept my name after we got married, but he wanted Ava to have his. It was… important to him."

Arizona can hear the bitterness in her voice. "When did you split up?"

"When Ava got sick," Gloria answers without having to think about it for even a second.

There isn't anything to say but, "I'm sorry."

Gloria sighs, setting her drink on the floor with a clink. "I'm over it. We haven't seen him in years."

Arizona leans forward, meeting Gloria's eyes. "Woah, hey, wait," she catches Gloria's full attention, making her voice serious. "I'm sorry. You deserved better. You both deserved better."

"Thank you." Gloria swallows. It seems like it's been a long time since she's let anyone say more than that sucks, he's an asshole and move on. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I've been working with a lawyer to get her name changed. It's still, it's still early days and it might not even happen but," she pauses for a second, smiling, "we've been talking about it for a long time, and why the hell not now?

"Don't mention anything to Ava yet. I mean, it's not even a sure thing and I don't want to get her hopes up. And I…"

"You want to wait until she's better," Arizona guesses.

Gloria nods. Her face glows. "I want it to be when I can give her everything. A real life."

The door cracks open, slow, Callie tentatively pushing at the other side like she doesn't quite know what she's signing up for. Arizona's eyes follow her instinctually, drifting away from Gloria's face.

"I know what you mean," Arizona says, noticing how shyly Callie stands in the entryway.

Half-in, half-out. And isn't that just the way.

"Hey," Callie says, still hovering.

Arizona stiffens. "Hi."

"Wow," Gloria mouths, inaudible, plucking her glass off of the floor. She makes a face at Callie behind Arizona's back. "I'm gonna… yeah. You two… Jesus. I'll be with the girls."

Callie stays in the doorway, seeming like she's nervous Arizona might not talk to her at all. Her eyes are so terribly sad. Arizona regrets ever even thinking Callie was taking this lightly.

Arizona wants to hold her so much that it hurts. She wants to curl up with Callie in some god-forsaken corner and stroke her hair. She wants to clean the streaks of toothpaste Callie leaves in the bathroom sink. She wants to believe it would finally, finally work this time.

She just doesn't. And she can't, she won't survive this again.

It scares her how close she is to doing it anyways.

"Have you thought about—" Callie begins, eyes darting to Sofia, who's wrapped up in a conversation with Ava and Gloria.

Arizona shakes her head. "Can't you find someone else?"

"No." Callie says. "There's no-one else."

"You can't just— give me a minute. I need a minute," Arizona hisses.

Callie turns her neck slightly, chin tilted down into her shoulder. She chuckles. "Yeah. Okay, Arizona. I can give you a minute."

Then she steps into the room and past Arizona, walking up to where Sofia and Ava have started acting out the plot of some movie from the perspective of the main character's cat.

Callie rushes at Sofia, picking her up by her armpits and spinning her while Sofia squeals happily. Gloria screams in surprise when Sofia's foot hits her, not enough to hurt anyone, and Ava doubles over laughing.

Callie glances at her from across the room, the apples of her cheeks scrunched up under her eyes and her chin pushed awkwardly back into her neck as she laughs.

And Arizona— Arizona sips her drink and watches. Damn-near complicit at this point.


Notes: Comments mean so much to me! Every time I get to hear from y'all it's wonderful. Come talk to me at pearlcages on Tumblr & Twitter.