Quick note! If you're the anonymous commenter who bugs me to update, like, five times a day: please stop. I am a full-time student with two jobs and your notifications are stressing me out.

As for everyone else, I hope you like this chapter!

The next morning, when Arizona asked her to drive, Callie at first didn't think anything of it. After all, the blonde had driven nine hours the day before—it made sense that she'd want a break. And it wasn't like her driving would be enough to derail their much-needed conversation about what had happened the night before.

What did derail their conversation, though, was the fact that Arizona supposedly fell asleep as soon as they started moving and, five hours later, she still hadn't moved. But was she really sleeping? Callie had shared a bed with the blonde for years, and she knew better than anyone how she slept: with her pink lips slightly parted, her breath coming out slow.

Arizona's lips were definitively pursed shut, though, and her breath didn't seem to be slow and relaxed with unconsciousness. In other words: she wasn't really sleeping. Which means, Callie realized, she's avoiding me. Arizona lay with her head leaned against the window—Callie knew the hard glass had to hurt—and she hadn't moved even when Callie had stopped for gas, which was impressive. They'd both drunk two cups of coffee before leaving, so Arizona most certainly had to go to the bathroom. And yet, she hadn't moved. That was dedication—dedication to not talk to me, Callie thought.

And though most people would have had hurt feelings at realizing their road-trip-buddy-slash-co-parent-slash-love-of-their-life was avoiding them, Callie knew Arizona. And so Callie knew to give her a little time, as long as they discussed the kiss at some point—ideally, before she went crazy.

As they reached the unique landscape of San Francisco—with its hills, its tall buildings, its fog—Callie played with the radio, stopping when she found a soft rock station. She bobbed her head in time with the music as she drove the final five minutes to the nice hotel Arizona had found them for the night.

Descending into the parking structure, Arizona finally stirred. She worked to make herself look bleary-eyed, despite the fact that she'd been awake all along. She feigned a yawn. "Are we here?"

"Mhm." Callie bit back her smile. "How was your nap?"

Arizona wouldn't meet her eye. "Restful."

Callie chuckled. "Glad to hear it."

In the hotel lobby, Callie and Arizona made their way to the concierge's desk to get a room. Halfway through the transaction, Callie stopped the man helping them. "Actually, could we get two rooms?" It had been automatic—the expectation for them to share a room, because they always had. But now, Callie realized, Arizona might have wanted a private space to run away to, if needed. I might, too, she admitted to herself.

The man looked up at her.

Arizona looked up at her. "What? Why?"

Callie shrugged, her eyes cutting self-consciously to the man helping them before turning her attention to Arizona. "I just, I don't know, want to give you your space."

The concierge busied himself on his computer, not wanting to make them feel awkward.

"I'm fine," Arizona maintained. She turned to the concierge. "One room is fine."

Callie was still looking at her. "Are you sure?"

Arizona nodded.

The man smiled at them. "So you'll be staying in one room. One bed, I'm a-"

"Two beds," Callie and Arizona interrupted—a little too quickly.

"Oh, of course." The man looked a little sheepish. "Forgive me—I shouldn't have assumed. You just look like you fit together."

Callie and Arizona looked at everything but each other.

"Okay," the concierge chirped a minute later. "Here are your key cards. You'll be on the fourteenth floor, and the elevator is over there, to your right."

In the elevator, silence.

After a minute, Callie cleared her throat. "Do you remember that time in the hospital elevator, the first time we broke up?"

Arizona felt her cheeks grow hot. She remembered: how she'd held it together all day, but then Callie had said her name and she couldn't stop herself, pressing her back against the wall, covering those lips with hers. "I remember."

"So, um, what's the plan for this afternoon? Any sightseeing?"

Resigned, Arizona took the trip itinerary out of her jacket pocket. "Unfortunately, we only have a few hours of light left today, so we don't have time to see much. I was thinking maybe a walk down by the bridge—we could go to the Ferry building. Maybe see some sealions."

Callie raised an eyebrow.

Arizona looked up at her. "Does that sound terrible to you?"

"No! It sounds fun," Callie promised as they walked into their room.

It was fairly big, with two queen-sized beds as well as a whole sitting area, complete with a desk, a couch, and two modern-looking chairs.

Callie strode over to the window to get a view of Downtown. The clouds hung so low that she couldn't see the tops of the taller buildings.

Arizona went over to stand next to her. "And, just like that, we're back in Seattle," she joked.

"Even worse," Callie chuckled. "It was warm and sunny there yesterday."

On their way through the lobby, the concierge waved at them, signaling them over.

"Here," he said, placing an umbrella embossed with the hotel's logo on the counter in front of them. "If you're planning on walking around, you should bring this. It's supposed to rain."

"Thanks," Callie smiled as she took it, and then they were outside, walking west toward the bay.

Callie looked over at Arizona. She was biting her lip again, her blue eyes fixed to the dirty sidewalk.

Callie opened her mouth, wanting to break the silence between them that had lasted, really, the entire day, and then she shut it again. Wasn't it Arizona's turn to talk to her? To address what had happened the night before?

"You're doing it again."

Callie blinked, returning to the present. "What?"

"Looking at me," Arizona explained, finally meeting Callie's eyes. "I can always feel it."

Callie's lip quirked up, almost teasing. "If looking at you isn't allowed, then we're going to have a serious problem."

Arizona ignored her. "I can feel you, wanting me to say something about last night. But I still don't know what to say."

"You've been thinking about it all day." It wasn't a question.

And Arizona didn't try to lie, made no effort to maintain that she'd been "sleeping" in the car. Instead, a confession: "And all night." She hazarded a look at Callie's face.

"Well, that's a start," Callie accepted after a long moment.

"It was just…a weird thing," Arizona continued. "Right? Like, I just got carried away, I think, because it had been so long since we'd seen each other."

"You said something," Callie reminded her. The words still rang in her ears: I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met.

"So did you." Arizona thought back to the way Callie had looked at her…

"And I meant it," Callie vowed. "Did you?"

Arizona couldn't seem to answer her directly. "You wanted us to take this trip just as people—strangers, really, without a complicated history—and we didn't feel like strangers last night."

"We were never really strangers," Callie accepted. "I wanted to know you as soon as I met you."

Arizona fixed her with a look. "That's not something a stranger would say."

"Okay," Callie challenged. "Strangers don't know each other's favorite color. So what's mine?"

"I have no idea."

Callie frowned, disappointed, despite herself, that Arizona had forgotten. "Fine. What's my middle name?"

"No idea," Arizona deadpanned.

Callie's eyes narrowed. That was harder to believe. "What's my first name?"

Arizona scrunched up her lips, pretending to think. "I'm really not sure."

Callie rolled her eyes, even as her lips turned up into a smile. "You're a brat."

Arizona cackled. "Calliope Iphigenia Torres," she scolded, "that's not a nice thing to say to a stranger."

A few minutes later, they were walking alongside the water. The area around them was unusually touristless—maybe because the clouds were darkening by the second and the sky was starting to spit.

Arizona looked up. "We're definitely going to get wet."

Callie shrugged, lifting up the umbrella. "We have this."

They walked through the Ferry building, passing all the artisanal shops: the gourmet cheeses, the handmade ceramics, the fresh pasta.

They kept walking, went out onto the pier. The wet ocean wind slapped their faces.

Callie's eyes drifted to Arizona. "So, about last night…"

Arizona inhaled a sharp breath.

"I think you know where I stand," Callie continued, working hard to be brave. "I came on this trip to be with you—and not out of some co-parent obligation."

"And I kissed you," Arizona admitted. "So you know there are feelings there, for me."

Callie felt her stomach somersault.

"But can we not…talk about it yet?"

Callie nodded. If Arizona needed time, she could give her that. They didn't need to make any promises. They'd both admitted to feelings. And, obviously, the attraction was still there. "Okay."

There was a hint of a smile on Callie's face, and Arizona found herself smiling back before she could stop it. Even though neither of them had really said anything, it felt like they had, or at the very least had come to some sort of understanding.

Another gust of wind hit them, and Callie wrapped her arms around herself.

Arizona looked over at her, blue eyes clouded with concern. "Are you cold?" She made a move to take off her jacket.

Callie hurried to wave the action away. "No, no, I'm fine."

Arizona looked at her a minute as they kept walking, noting the way Callie surreptitiously tucked her chin into her sweater. With a knowing smile, she offered Callie the crook of her arm.

…A gesture Callie accepted without hesitation, linking their arms together, because, really, she was cold. And Arizona was so warm as their shoulders brushed, her arm clenching Callie's tight.

And, yes, the touch was chaste—it was an innocent schoolgirl gesture, really—but Callie still felt her heart speed up as soon as they touched. And, if Arizona's skillfully averted eyes were any indication, she wasn't alone in that.

They stopped at the end of the pier, looking out at the ocean, their arms still linked, bodies close as touch. Callie's thumb twitched against Arizona's wrist. Then, more deliberately, she rubbed her thumb over bare skin. She heard Arizona's sudden intake of breath, the way she stiffened and then melted into the touch.

She offered Arizona a soft look. "You feel it too, don't you?"

"It's you, Callie," Arizona whispered. "Of course I do."

On their way back, the rain really started to pour and—even huddled under the umbrella—Callie and Arizona got soaked to bone. It had been a longer walk than they'd anticipated, too, so they put on their pajamas immediately after getting back from dinner, even though it was only 8pm.

When Callie stepped out of the bathroom, Arizona looked up from where she sat in her bed, reviewing the itinerary, and smiled.

Sitting on her own bed a few feet away, Callie offered a questioning look. "What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing," Arizona lied. Then, shyly: "You."

Callie felt giddiness wash over her. It was true that she and Arizona weren't jumping into things right away, but the love and affection was there. It had always been there, really, but now they were feeling brave enough to be honest about it.

After years of dating others, of taking new jobs, of being far from one another—both figuratively and literally—they were suddenly single, and on vacation, and together.

And there was Arizona, looking at her with an expression that somehow was both cute and unbelievably sexual, and Callie wanted to see how long the honesty would last. "I had fun with you today," she admitted, "even with the rain almost drowning us."

"Especially with the rain almost drowning us," Arizona argued, laughing. "I've never seen it rain so hard."

"I know," Callie chuckled. "And tomorrow it's supposed to be seventy degrees out. Bay Area weather is crazy."

Arizona ran her hand through her hair. "I hope there's good weather in Central California tomorrow. I don't want to be stuck in a little room all day."

"About that…" Callie gave her a look.

Arizona played dumb. "About what?"

"You avoided me on the drive all day but then suggested we share a room. Why?"

Suddenly anxious, Arizona just shrugged. "To save money."

"Nope. You know that doesn't concern me, and you don't worry about money, either," Callie reminded her. "Unless, somehow, you stopped being the best surgeon in the country."

Arizona's cheeks flushed. "Come on."

"Okay, so that can't really be measured," Callie admitted. "But, basing rankings on personal opinion: I would trust you over any other doctor in the world."

Arizona made a face in an attempt to hide her smile. "Are you trying to butter me up?"

"Yes," Callie grinned. Then, "No. I meant it. You know I've always admired you."

Arizona smiled softly. "You, too."

"So, tell me: why are we sharing a room?"

Arizona shrugged. "Because you're here. Because why not."

Callie waited.

"Because I never get tired of you."

Callie offered a teasing look. "You might change your mind by the time this trip is over, because—if we share hotel rooms—you'll be stuck with me twenty-four-seven."

"I won't change my mind," Arizona vowed.

As Callie pulled back the covers so that she could sit beneath them, Arizona's eyes fixed to those long caramel-colored legs: their every movement, the way those sleep shorts hardly covered anything, how smooth her skin looked. She bit her lip.

And, seeing her expression, Callie's eyes widened. It was special—to be looked at like that. To be looked at like that by Arizona. She shivered.

Broken out of her trance, Arizona's eyes went up to Callie's face.

"It's, um, cold in here," Callie explained.

After a moment of deliberation, Arizona scooted toward the other side of her hotel bed and then patted the empty space where she'd been sitting. "Come."

Callie didn't need to be asked twice. She hopped out of her own bed to sit in Arizona's, the spot still deliciously warm from her body heat. Sitting this close, she noted the blonde's intoxicating scent. Warm laundry and lavender.

Arizona gulped. She's in my bed. So close that, if she were to stretch out her leg, it would brush against Callie's. And suddenly her hands were shaking—to reach out, touch. "Did you, um." She tried to stay focused. "Do you…want to watch something?"

Callie gave her a close-lipped smile. How badly she wanted to reach out, touch… "Sure."

Arizona grabbed the TV remote from the side table and clicked the ON button, grateful for the opportunity to be able to focus her attention on something other than her…more primal urges, which always seemed to come out in full-force when Callie was around.

Both women kept their eyes carefully trained on the TV as they looked through the titles. A minute later, Arizona stopped scrolling. "How about Dinner for Schmucks?"

"Sure," Callie agreed. "I love Steve Carrell."

Arizona met her eye. "I know you do."

As they watched, Arizona found herself hyper-aware of everything around her—a door slamming down the hall; Callie laughing, a little, only out of her nostrils; and her own breathing (was it always so loud?).

Out of the corner of her eye, she tracked Callie's hands as they moved beneath the blanket in search of more warmth. She mirrored the movement, tucking her own under the blanket, and her heart sped up, knowing how close her hand was to Callie's.

As the movie continued, Arizona inched her hand closer to Callie's, hoping their skin might accidentally brush. With the brunette so close, she found herself intoxicated by the scent and sound of her, wanting more and more and more.

A minute later, skin hit skin, and she watched as Callie froze at the contact. She didn't make any effort to move away, though, so Arizona brushed her pinky light over hers. She listened to Callie's hitch of breath and felt her own blood beating throughout her whole body as, gently, she continued the movement. The touch was innocent—almost feather-light—and yet she listened as Callie's breath turned almost haggard and felt herself become unbelievably aroused, somehow.

And then Callie's hand twitched—she locked their pinkies together and squeezed. And Arizona was, yes, still turned on, because this was Callie. But she also worked to bite back her sudden giddy smile, because it was just so cute and innocent and just sweet, the way their pinkies were entwined like little girls'. She squeezed back, and they stayed like that until the movie finished.

It was 11:30pm when they turned off the lights. Lying in her own bed, Callie already missed Arizona's body heat beside her. Through the darkness, she met Arizona's eyes. "So, how was your day?"

Arizona laughed. "We've been together since dawn."

"I know," Callie grinned. "Did you like it?"

Arizona's eyes caressed her face. "I liked it a lot. How about you?"

"I loved the second half of it. The car ride could've been better," she joked.

Arizona hid her face behind her hands. "I was freaking out, okay?" she defended, laughing.

"Hey, we both have a habit of running," Callie soothed. "I mean, I moved across the country to get away from you."

"You moved away to be with someone you cared about," Arizona corrected.

Callie shrugged. "I think it was both." She felt Arizona waiting for more of an explanation, and so she continued: "What I felt for you always scared me in its…depth." She paused. "It's scary, loving someone that much. I would've done anything for you."

Arizona pressed her lips together, felt a prick behind her eyes. "Me, too."

They were quiet for a minute, and then Arizona offered, "You know, for a while, I'd decided I would just spend the rest of my life alone."

Callie exhaled a loud breath of disbelief. "You? Every woman in Seattle would eat you up. Most of them already have."

Arizona chuckled. "I didn't mean that I'd have to be alone. I meant that I would choose it."

Callie looked at her carefully, her eyebrows furrowing. "Wouldn't that be lonely?"

Arizona shrugged. "It would be safer."

Callie smiled softly. "You've never played it safe, though."

"You make me sound like I'm some sort of badass—like you. I think it's more that being gay and playing it safe are mutually exclusive, unless you choose to be totally celibate."

"Eh," Callie teased. "I still think you're kind of a badass. In a loves-pastels-and-calls-kids-"tiny-humans" kind of way."

"Finally, you're acknowledging that I'm just as cool as you," Arizona countered, dimpling.

"I didn't say that. I own four leather jackets. I'm objectively cooler."

Arizona shook her head. "Too late. You already admitted that you think I'm awesome. No take-backs."

Callie pretended to groan. "What have I done?"

Arizona giggled, victorious. "I'm feeling pretty accomplished right now."

Callie laughed with her. Then, she let out a sleepy sigh. "Leaving early again tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Arizona nodded. "I'll talk to you in the car this time, though-"

"Good."

"If," Arizona continued, "you answer this question correctly: Am I cooler than you?"

Even in the darkness, Callie easily made out Arizona's bright eyes and deep dimples. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of them. She wished, more than anything, that she could reach out, caress her cheek, kiss her until they were both drunk on love. But all she had were words, and they carried more weight than she had expected, her voice coming out quiet and unmistakably honest. "Arizona, I think you're cooler than anyone."