So I'm back... With a new fic, how exciting!

This is a Callie/Ximena pairing fic because I am so completely obsessed with them and urgh I wish they would become canon... but since we only have half an already filmed season left, I doubt that will be happening. A set up for the spin-off maybe? I don't want to allow myself to believe that though, tbh...

Oh yeah... That's new. I can't believe the show has been cancelled :( I love it so much and it has helped me in so many ways and it's going to be over soon and I'm so upset... so let's write fiction to fill that empty hole!

So the intention is for this to be multichapter (let's see how long I can keep going for) and relatively slowburn, but I don't want to torture you so I won't drag it out too much.

Anyway, like I said, I love this pairing and if you follow me on twitter you will undoubtedly know this (let's be honest, I single-handedly created this ship and now everyone is jumping on it). Anyway. I hope you like it and don't forget to leave a review and all that jazz!

- Zoe (twitter: maiamtchls / tumblr: 9teen-wishes)

PS - this takes place some time in 5x11, after Callie sees Aaron with that blonde girl, but before he comes over the next day. Just to save any confusion.

Callie frowned as she saw Aaron pull up on his motorbike. Did he have someone behind him?

It reminded her of how they met. When he whisked her away and kissed her on the beach. When she shut him down because she had AJ. When things first started going to shit.

She watched as his comrade took of their helmet, revealing a blonde woman. She looked older than Callie, but then again, Aaron did have a few years on her.

Sighing, she deleted the message she has typed asking her ex if they could talk and that she was outside. It was clear he had already started to move on. The young woman just didn't understand. He had been so adamant that despite them going back to being friends, it was just temporary until they could build their relationship from the foundations and make it healthier. Yet here he was, barely a week later with a girl on the back of his bike. Maybe he never really cared all that much in the first place. How could he if it were that easy to move on? Just earlier that same day he had surprised her with a picnic on the beach, and tried to hold her hand before she drew the boundaries. Had her rejection caused him to decide to stop trying?

"Maybe she's just a friend. Don't jump to conclusions, Callie," Ximena reasoned with her friend.

"Yeah, a friend he took for a ride on his motorbike. Like he did with me the first day we met. Before he kissed me," Callie laughed, looking at the ground. Her friend sighed beside her, and put an arm round her. She laid her head on her shoulder.

The girls were sat on the older girl's bed in the church where Ximena was still claiming sanctuary. She had still not heard back from her lawyer about her status on the DACA program, and it was starting to worry her.

She was thankful that Callie visited her regularly – it helped to keep her mind off everything. She came every day, if not twice. Sometimes Mariana would come with her and often Poppy, but this time she was alone. Ximena was one of her only friends and she wanted to talk to her about Aaron since she didn't trust anyone else. Sure, she loved her siblings and they would want to be there for her, but they would just stick up for her and not tell her anything constructive. Ximena was different. So, once she had had dinner with her family, she had asked Stef to drop her back off at the church and pick her up later that night.

"I'm so tired," she whispered, closing her eyes, "I'm so tired of boys, of people, treating me like I'm nothing."

The older girl looked at her friend with a sad smile. Her and Callie had grown a lot closer recently, and she had heard of some of the horror stories of Callie's previous homes. Callie had told her about Pearson. About home number 2. About the Olmsteads. There had been a lot of tears from both of them. And a lot of hugging.

She hated what she had had to live through, and what lasting effects it had had on her. Now she understood where the ambiguity came from. The lack of sense of self. The lack of confidence. Even when Ximena had told her she had never met anyone who cared for others as much as she did, she had seen the disbelief in Callie's eyes.

"Men aren't shit, Callie," Ximena teased, "trust me."

"Easy for you to say," Callie chuckled, sitting back up and grinning at her friend, "you're not attracted to them."

"Which gives me all the more reason. I'm not clouded by anything," her friend retorted, making her friend laugh.

They sat in silence for a moment, the young girl fiddling with her hands and her older friend lost in thought, just enjoying each other's company.

"You know, I admire you, Cal," the artist confessed, receiving a snort from the girl beside her, "I'm serious."

"Why? I just screw everything up. Disappoint everyone. What's to admire?" Callie shook her head.

"That's not true," her friend argued, "your family is proud of you. I'm proud of you. And I'm sure your Mom is, too."

The younger girl knew which Mom she was referring to. It had been another one of the tearful conversations. Ximena already knew her Mom has passed, but not the details, and she found herself spilling them all to her once. It had been what would've been her 40th birthday. Her friend had held her as she sobbed. Life had been so chaotic for so many years she had barely had time to process her death. She had barely had time to think about her and the guilt of that silently ate Callie alive. When Stef had come to pick her up later that night, her eyes were still red and puffy, telling her that her daughter had been crying. She had pulled her into her arms as she broke down again and begged her to find where her Mom was buried.

"I need to say goodbye to her. Properly," she had cried before the detective pulled her back into the embrace. That's what they had done yesterday. Jude had been there too, mostly for Callie as he had minimal memories of the woman, but the rest of the family had stayed home as Stef's digression. She had told them this was Callie and Jude's moment, and they all understood.

"I doubt that," Callie retorted.

"Cal, please," Ximena sighed, "every day you fight for others. You fought for your brother for years. You fight to help broken systems. I wasn't lying when I told you I had never met someone who cares about others as much as you do. So much so that you forget to care about yourself. I wish you could see things that way I do. The way other people do."

The brunette smiled and the pair reverted back to a comfortable silence.

"Love, wake up for me," Callie heard a familiar voice whisper to her. Slowly, she opened her heavy eyelids to see her Mom crouched in front of her smiling.

"Did I fall asleep?" The girl yawned, sitting up straight and stretching her arms above her head.

"Yeah," her friend answered, looking up from the sketchbook she was drawing in, "you crashed out so I just let you sleep. Thought I might as well get on with some of my work since you were dead to the world."

"Sorry," the girl chuckled, "you should've just woken me up."

"You seemed tired," Ximena spoke, "I didn't want to rouse the beast. It's not a problem, anyway. I need to get more work done, or Helen will have it in for me."

Callie laughed at her friend's comments before yawning again and rubbing her eyes with her hands.

"Come on," her Mom pushed, "let's get you home, sleepy head."

The girl roller her eyes at the nickname, but pulled her legs from under the covers and slipped her feet into her shoes beside the bed. After tying up the laces and putting her jacket on, she walked over to her friend and gave her a hug.

"Thanks for the skates and art supplies," Ximena smiled, "I've been dying without them. Just staring at the walls isn't as fun as it seems. Did you know there is 782 pieces of glass in the stained window?"

"No problem," Callie laughed, "see you tomorrow."

"Have you been sleeping?" The cop asked her daughter on the journey home. She heard a sigh beside her.

"Yes," her daughter replied, to which she gave her a doubtful look, "a bit. I just can't stop worrying about her. She's just all alone in there, not knowing what's happening to her parents, and scared that they're going to kick her out, or them, of the country at any minute. I don't want to let her down."

"Oh, sweets," the blonde sighed, "she knows you're doing everything you can. I love how much love you have for your friends, but you must look after yourself. How're your college applications going?"

"Nowhere," the teenager sighed, "I don't know what to do. They said that I would find it hard to get into the arts program, especially with my lack of portfolio, and that I should try and pick something less competitive to major in."

Hearing her daughter feel so defeated made Stef's heart ache. She knew how much Callie doubted her ability without someone telling her she probably wouldn't be successful. It must've been a major blow to her already fragile self-esteem.

"But you're working on your portfolio with Helen. And AJ," the woman pointed out, "how's that going by the way? Speaking to AJ again, I mean."

"It's good," Callie answered, "it's nice to have another friend when my other one is trapped inside a church. And Daphne's busy all the time. But it's weird, too. I think he wants to get back together."

"You don't want that?" The cop queried.

"No," Callie sighed, "I don't think so. Me and Aaron only just broke up, and we might get back together. I'm not sure about that at the moment, though. I think he's moved on already."

"What makes you think that?" Stef frowned.

"He had a girl on his motorbike today," her daughter confessed, "I don't know. I don't think I want a relationship right now, anyway."

"You have a lot to focus on. It's understandable, love," her mother smiled.

After the brief conversation, the car settled to a calm silence except for the radio which lulled our quiet tunes. Throughout the rest of the journey, Stef focused on the road ahead whilst her daughter watched the world go past through the window. She was thinking of ideas on how to help her friend. She had almost finished the video she was putting together, and her livestream was still being shared around the internet. So many people were contacting her about how everything was going and offering advice as well as volunteering to help. The response was amazing but also incredibly overwhelming.

"Bug, we're home," her mother's voice roused her from her thoughts. The pair left the car and entered the house, the eldest daughter going upstairs to get ready to sleep, passing her friend's sister on the way to the bathroom.

"Oh, hey Callie. Were you just with my sister? Is she okay?" The younger girl questioned.

"Yeah. She's good. Fed up of being stuck in that church, though," Callie laughed.

"Figures. Ximena doesn't like to be dependent on other people," Poppy said, rolling her eyes, "thanks for being there for my sister, by the way."

"I feel her on that one," Callie joked, "and it's not a problem. She's a great friend and I can't just stand by and watch everything happen. Anyway, I better get myself sorted for bed before my Mom drags me there by my hair. Goodnight!"

"Night," the girl said with a smile, making her way downstairs.