A/N I did not create these lovely ladies, nor do I own them. I am just using them to create a story. They are all Shonda's.

Arizona's POV

"Heya Robbins, Torres," Mark called as Callie and I walked through the hospital. Well, she walked and I did my awkward hobble that I'd developed. He caught up with us at the elevators with a grin on his face. "It's great to see you up and about!" He said in an overly enthusiastic voice, turning to me. I grimaced.

"Yep." I uttered halfheartedly. He leaned in to give me a hug, which I returned with my one functional arm. I could tell he was trying to make me feel happy in my "condition" because Mark Sloan has never tried to hug me before. Callie, too, could see it, and hit him playfully on the arm to ease the tension she could feel emanating from me. "How's it going, Sloan?" she asked.

"Great, I just came out of a rhinoplasty on a 13-year-old who was born with an abnormal cartilage amount in her nose, and boy, did I totally rock it. I was like an artist…." He continued to chatter on but I found myself drowning it out because it was too painful for me to hear about surgeries right now… especially on children. God, I would have been in there with him if I had been working. Tears welled up in my eyes, and once again Callie noticed and came to the rescue, making a big show of looking at her watch.

"Sorry, Mark, but I just realized that it's eight past twelve and we've got a meeting with Derek in two minutes. Let's get going, sweetie," she said, interlacing her fingers with mine. I shot her a small smile of gratitude.

"That's fine, I'll walk you up there." He responded, as always quite oblivious to women emotions. "It's all good," Callie said.

"No seriously-" Mark began but was cut off with a meaningful glare from Callie, and with that we walked into the ready elevators.

"Bye, Mark." I called as the doors dinged shut.

Once alone with Callie, I started to really break down. She pulled me into her arms and held me, only removing an arm from around me to push the emergency button to stop the elevator. When it slowed to a halt she gently sat us down against the wall and I sobbed into her chest, feeling safe to express my feelings in her embrace.

"I know, baby," she murmured to me, and I noticed a tear falling from her beautiful, brown eyes. I could tell that her heart would have been breaking to see me like this, but at the same time she knew I needed to let it all out.

"I think it was j-just being h-h-here and not being able t-t-to do anything while life goes on like n-normal for everyone else. And knowing that I won't be able to do anything for a long time. Because wh-who can operate with one working hand?" I blubbered.

"Honey," she began, "you're right. You won't be able to use a scalpel for a while, and that sucks. But the important thing is that you will one day. And until that day comes, you can't let this stroke beat you. Because this crap doesn't just happen to my otherwise perfectly healthy, amazing wife for no reason. Something good will come from this. You're going to be a better person, a better doctor because of it. And when we make it out of this tunnel, you will be even more flawless than you are now, even though I'm doubting it's possible because you are already my favorite person in the world." She finished her speech to place a kiss on my tear-damp cheek. I turned my face so that our lips met and tried to pour all my feelings for her into a kiss, because they were too strong to sum up in words. It was too complex try to and explain how deeply connected I felt with her. She always knew what to say, how to make me feel better, and what I needed. Calliope Torres was everything to me.

"You're mine, too." I whispered when we broke apart, gasping for air, but still remaining as close to each other as possible. She cupped my cheek with her hand and caressed my cheek, as well as wiping away my tears which, although she'd made me feel somewhat better in that moment, were still flowing freely. It seemed like every time I'd felt that I'd finally come to terms with what happened- the stroke, some aspect of the situation that I hadn't considered would come up and slap me in the face. That grief did bring a grim sense of determination to me though, and I knew right there and then that I would make myself get through this. And I had my Callie to help.

I reached up to place my hand in her hair, locking it in her raven curls, and shifted even closer to her on the floor, so that we were sitting, facing each other, with our foreheads touching, our faces close to each other's. I spend the next minute enjoying the feel of her close to me, needing to rebuild my strength so that I could handle the rest of the journey through Seattle Grace Mercy West to our meeting with Derek. "It's not actually at ten past twelve is it? Because it's a quarter past now and that would make us very rude." I said, trying to instill some lightheartedness into the atmosphere. Callie chuckled sadly through her silent tears and shook her head.

"Honey, we're not due there for another five minutes, I just could tell you needed a second." She explained.

"Thank you, Calliope. You were completely right as usual." I said, glad to see a genuine smile spreading across Callie's face from my use of her proper name. I quickly reached out and tucked a lock of stray hair behind her ear. She caught my hand and held it there, keeping it against her skin, and then moved her hand up my arm only to snake it around my waist and pull my body against hers. The bottom of her shirt had been pulled up a little from the extension of her arm, and I got goosebumps from where the exposed skin of our stomachs brushed against each other. Electricity from her touch was dancing across my skin, pulsing through my body, and I leaned in and molded my lips against my wife's. My tongue probed around her lips, and they parted. I reveled in the taste of her, sweeter than chocolate, but at the same time spicy and hot like chili, mirroring her fiery personality. It was only at the last possible minute that we pulled apart, causing my head to spin. Callie's breathing was ragged beside me. "Whoa." I gasped.

"Yep." She agreed. She looked at me and our hands entwined as we stood back up. She reached over and released the stop button, the movement causing her shirt to ride up a little again. I shivered at the beauty of her exposed skin. She straightened up and turned to me, smirking. "Don't you think that I missed you checking me out there." She said in a mock scolding tone and laughed. I giggled with her, at the same time remembering how I must have looked and straightening my clothes, checking my hair and makeup, and finally placing a quick peck on her cheek as the doors opened.

Callie's POV

"Well, there are three nearby rehabilitation centers that I'd recommend. This one," he pushed forth a pamphlet with the words, 'no pain, no gain' written all over it, "is known for its aggressive approach. They believe that the faster and harder you work, the better. The people who use it need to be hardcore. The next one," he continued, this time showing us a book that had many happy looking people in a photo on the front, "is one that follows the idea that happy patients are good patients and tries not to pressure the people who go there, but rather to 'gently guide' them, as it says on the back. Oh, and there's this one," he said and pulled a thick pamphlet whose cover contained a large amount of complicated looking writing out of his briefcase, "a highly experimental option. It is always researching and developing new rehabilitation options." Derek looked up from the three books on the conference table in front of us and smiled.

"Looking at all my scans and my chart, what do you think what be best?" Arizona asked in a professional voice.

"Well, with this sort of thing it's not really about what medically works best, it's more what suits the needs of the patient best, and then the medical stuff follows." He responded kindly.

"But which one has a higher success rate?" She questioned, in a determined voice. Derek chuckled.

"Robbins, it's just where you'd be most comfortable. Every patient is different, and has different needs. I'll give you two a minute to discuss this." Derek nodded towards Arizona and me, then turned and departed from the conference room. Arizona looked at me expectantly.

"Well, I guess the choice is obvious." She said. I nodded and leaned across the table to pick up the 'happy' looking pamphlet. Sure enough, it looked like Arizona's type. I bet her roller-shoes would have fit in nicely there. I even saw a rainbow on one of the pages. She frowned at me, though and grabbed the one Derek had described as 'hardcore'. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "What?" She said defiantly. She narrowed her eyes at the book in my hand. "Do you think just because I work in peds that I can't be hardcore? That I'm not bad-ass enough because I fix tiny humans and wear bear badges and smile lots that I'm soft?" She began to rant. "Well, I'l have you know that I've been around the block a few times. Like I told Bailey, I grew up with the name 'Arizona'. I learnt to how to play dirty in the playground! Plus, peds is the very definition of hardcore!"

"Whoa, calm down sweetie," I chuckled, "all I thought was that you are… perky! And I thought this would fit you a little better. I mean come on, this morning you said "super!" because I fixed your rollie sneakers. Now don't get me wrong, I completely love it about you, but wouldn't you enjoy this place a bit more? What's with the sudden obsession with being bad-ass?" I asked.

"Well…" she said quietly, "it's not the whole hardcore thing that is important… but this one is meant to be quick… I just want to get back to fixing those helpless tiny humans." Arizona looked up at me shyly.

"OK. If you think it's the best option. But promise me one thing."

"Sure!" She exclaimed.

"Promise me that you won't work yourself too hard, or push yourself more than necessary. I don't want you to forget the fact that you just had a stroke. A STROKE. Your body is fragile right now, honey. And surgery will always be waiting for you, not that I don't know how crappy it is not to be able to operate." I finished with a sigh.

"If I agree can I go here?" She said, pointing at the book she was holding. I nodded hesitantly. She beamed.

"Awesome!" Arizona squealed in delight. Her childlike happiness was so enthusiastic and highly contagious. I grinned at my adorable wife. I stood up and picked up my purse, putting the put the chosen pamphlet inside it, and slung it over my shoulder. Arizona took hold of my hand and we walked out of the room.

A/N Hope you enjoyed this chapter. A big thank you to all those who added it to their favourites or their alert list. Hope everyone who ends up reading this has a 'super' day!