AN: I feel like People seem to lose interest in this story, so if there is anything you'd want to read, you can always put it in my inbox. But be assured, there's Drama ahead for the two of them. And it's soon.
Anyway, I hope you like this part.
It's Friday afternoon, 2:47 to be exact, and I think I have slept for over twelve hours straight, passing out too soon after Callie showed up as a surprise at the front door last night. I don't remember her leaving to get to the CT Hotel, at all, so I think I fell asleep while she was still here – stupid move. But I didn't stand a chance to fight against my tired body. And all I did since waking up today is waiting for her to come back again – as she had promised last night. A soft knock on the wooden door catches my attention and a second later, the most beautiful head of dark hair pokes through the space she creates by opening it. "Hey." Callie comes into my room, a bright smile on her face as she places the vase with beautiful, colorful flowers down on my nightstand, next to the cup with hot tea and the bottle of water that my mother had put there earlier for me. I am beyond relieved that I took down all her pictures two days ago, otherwise my room would have scared her away, I'm sure. Sitting down on the edge of the bed and brushing through my loose curls, she asks, "How do you feel? Better?"
Lifting my hand, I show a small gap with my thumb and forefinger. "A li-ttle", I rasp, my voice still and obviously missing, a cough following my attempt to speak, wrecking through my entire being. My body is so sore, aches in places it shouldn't ache when you're just lying in your bed or on the couch. The only times I got up today was to brush my teeth, take a scented bath to ease my muscles and let the steam free my airways, and when I had to use the bathroom. Other than that, I am behaving like a good patient, staying in my bed, under my covers, with my laptop as a TV substitute. "You?", I ask, wanting to know how she is and how her night at the hotel was. It's so good to see her. She makes everything better.
"I'm good", she answers, plants a chaste kiss against my lips and I sigh in content. God, how much I have missed those lips, that contact – it's probably pathetic, but I actually don't care. "I arrived two hours ago and you were napping so I offered to make my grandma's special soup. Your mother told me last night that you're not a fan of her recipe. But let me tell you, my grandmother was the best when it came to special treatment soups for sick people. I don't know how she did it, but she had to teach our cooks and maids and eventually, my sister and me, how to make it. My mother never picked up on it, she didn't like being in the kitchen. I guess it came in handy for her that, when my father's business succeeded and expanded, she didn't need to cook anymore."
The brunette stops her rambling and looks at me, my gaze completely focused on her full lips that move in a very fascinating, almost hypnotizing way whenever she talks and my brain is trying to pick up on every little detail. But wait, Callie cooked in my mother's kitchen? Barbara Marie Robbins, the woman who raised me and my brother, she lets nobody cook in her kitchen who isn't a member of our family. Never. Her friends have tried many times when they were having a 'girls night' at our house, offering their help, but she has always shut them down. She also always kicks my dad and my brother out of her kitchen. Apparently, there has been an incident with my dad leaving the turkey in the oven for too long and it caught fire and my brother burnt some toast when he was a teenager – same result.
The look I give the Latina must exactly reflect my thoughts and she chuckles softly. "It did take a little bit of convincing, but she already asked for the recipe, so I think we're good now." I'm not even surprised, I have learned that nothing is impossible and the thought that Callie might already has charmed her way into my mother's heart is actually quite calming. "So, if you want to try my soup, just say the word", she winks. I am one-hundred percent certain that my mom told her all about my disgust for all kinds of soups.
Instead of giving her an answer, because let's face it, talking isn't exactly my strong point these days, I try to give her one of my brightest smiles, with my dimples popping deep into my cheeks. I know she loves that smile. "I w-ant to sh-ow y-ou s-omethi-ng", I say after taking a deep breath, my voice breaking at almost every word. While waiting for her to come back, I have thought about this really hard. It's something I wouldn't show to just everyone. In fact, there are currently only two people who know about this. Moving into a sitting position, I gulp and look at her. Even though I trust her, I am freaking nervous. It was your decision. She's not expecting anything. So either man up or chicken out, Robbins. She will understand.
"You don't have to, Arizona", she says, catching up with my insecurity and lays her hands against my cheeks, stroking the prominence of my cheekbones with her thumbs and making me look at her. "I don't know what you want to show me, but I can sense that you're nervous. Whatever it is, I am sure it's important to you and I want to know everything you value. But if you're uncomfortable, then that's not the price you need to pay. Go at your pace."
Just when I want to give her a reply, my mother comes into my room and my dad is right behind her. I roll my eyes. Of course, the one weekend I have to stay at home, he doesn't have to be at any base or supervise young cadets' training. "We just wanted to see how you two were doing", my mom plays and carries the tray – two bowls filled with presumably steaming, hot soup on top of it, over to my desk. Admittedly, it smells divine.
"And we want to ask about your intentions with our daughter", my dad grumbles, glaring at the gorgeous Latina. Frankly, it is what I had waited for to happen ever since Callie came to our house last night. My father interrogating the woman I bring home – famous or not – and not beating around the bush, is nothing new to me. But it would be nice if I had a voice to speak up too. Not that Callie needs me to defend her, she's strong enough on her own, but I want to clarify that I am as much in this as she is.
"Daniel", my mother cuts in before Callie can start to try and assure my dad that she has solely good intentions. "She took a plane to fly all the way to Boston to see your daughter, because she is sick. Or, despite her being sick. She could as well have stayed at home, and I am sure she has a very nice home, but she didn't. This young lady has been nothing but polite and nice, I think this qualifies her for some pretty good girlfriend material."
Callie is awesome girlfriend material, damn right, momma! But that's so not the point. With my mouth and eyes wide open, I just stare at my parents, disbelievingly. My father has squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest. My mother on the other hand tells me to close my mouth before I catch flies with it, waves the Colonel's behavior off and pushes her husband out of my room. "So-rry fo-r th-at", I manage when I find my words again, a deep blush covering my cheeks. Leave it to my parents to embarrass me when I don't do it myself.
Cupping both of my cheeks this time, the brunette now lays a kiss on my lips that's a little more lingering than the first she gave me today. Last night, I protested when she wanted to kiss me until she told me that, even if she gets sick from it, she would always want to kiss me. "Nothing to apologize for", she whispers, her full lips still close to my mouth, our noses still touching. "Actually", she starts and pulls back an inch or two. "I wanted to talk with you about that whole topic."
I watch her intently. It's cute how she bites the left corner of her mouth and presses her lips together afterwards, looking for the right words. Seeing Callie like this is the most precious, most adorable thing. And it reminds me – every time – that she is, sometimes, just as insecure as I am.
Puffing out some air, the brunette takes my hands in her and says, "Arizona, we have only been dating for a couple of weeks. Or, weekends. But when you're with me, when I am with you, I feel so alive. You make me feel like a normal woman and like a queen at the same time. I know, I understand, that being with me can be intimidating. Everything and everyone around me sees only the actress and the singer. But you, from the very first evening, you see what so many people just don't get. Me. We have this connection and I really, really like you. Would you, I mean, I would be very lucky if you would want to be my girlfriend."
And then silence wraps itself around us. Callie's hands start to fidget with my blanket as I, awestruck from her words, stare at her. Say yes, you idiot!, my inner voice yells at me, but for the second time within five minutes, I am speechless. I can literally hear my heart pounding in my chest, drumming powerfully against its cage. That is so not what I have expected. Hoped for, yes. Dreamed of, oh, so many times. Anticipated, not really, or at least not so soon. "Call-ie, y-es", I beam at her, feeling my eyes start to glaze over with happy tears. Truthfully, every other answer would have not made any sense. Leaning in, I reconnect our lips in a soft kiss, smiling into it just like she does as I tangle my hands in soft dark tresses. This is so freaking amazing. You got a girlfriend. Callie Torres, this wonderful woman is your girlfriend, Arizona.
When we part, she is still smiling and her cheeks are a little rosy. I really like this look on her. She gets the tray and puts it down on my legs, picking up one bowl herself. It looks good, so I try it too and I have to say, this soup is actually delicious. And the hot fluid feels good in my throat. After we ate, we talk for a little bit, or rather, she talks and invites me to her place for the weekend after Thanksgiving. Of course, spending the holiday itself with our respective family is important. But on Black Friday, I will be on the plane to LA, come what may. "What did you want to show me?", she questions after a while. I almost forgot about it, with my parents barging into my room. And suddenly, I'm not so sure anymore it's the right time. Which is ridiculous. She just asked me to be her girlfriend, which is a big step, and I am freaking out about this. "You don't have to", she says anew.
"W-ant to." Turning away from her to pull out the top drawer of my nightstand, I reach for the light brown envelope and lay it down in my lap, just where the tray has been before Callie put it down on the floor. It's heavy, heavier than I remember. But considering its length and all, it makes sense. "Open it", I encourage her.
Perfectly manicured eyebrows furrow as the brunette picks up the envelope and reaches inside the open lid. The edges of the book come into view and my hands start to shake. Geez, Robbins, get your nerves under control. It's Callie, your girlfriend, for Christ's sake! "What is this?", she wonders and turns the book around, reading the title. "Two In A Million, by Arizona Robbins? Arizona, is this- did you- you wrote this?"
I nod. It's my baby. The one single idea I planned from the beginning to its end, I had a concept, a map for every character, every chapter, and every part of every chapter. But after I finished it, I never sent it out to publishing agencies. Only Anna and Teddy have read it. Anna has even proof-read it for me. And only Anna, Teddy and me have a copy. No one else has ever touched it or held it in their hands, until now, not even my brother and surely not my parents. I don't think my father knows of its existence and my mom only discovered it when it was delivered and I unwrapped it downstairs in the kitchen with her being present.
The sound of pages being turned rips me out of my thoughts and my eyes find deep brown orbs glued to the book's – my story's – words. Not skimming. Reading. Shit. Okay, Arizona. Don't panic. It's Callie, she's read your work before. But when a minute or two ticks by and she doesn't stop reading, I rethink my decision. No, you were right the first time around. This is different. You're allowed to panic! "Cal- no.", I start and try to put my hand over the open book.
"Shsh", the Latina says and holds up her hand, continuing to read word after word. When she finally looks up, her eyes are shining. Delicate tan hands close the book and press it against her chest. "This is brilliant, Arizona. I want to read this. I have only read the first two pages and I want to know more about it. I want to know what happens. Please, let me read this."
Stunned, again, I don't know what to say, except for, "O-kay."
So, they are girlfriends, finally. That should take some of the insecurity off of Arizona's shoulders, right? But wait, there's still the Colonel. And Callie's parents and the media... oh yeah.