Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…
AN: Lucky lucky people! Two updates in as many days. Wow, it's like Christmas time huh? Haha. Anyways, on with the show… so to speak. Enjoy!
Chapter 12
Days pass and neither Arizona nor Callie attempt to talk to each other. The pitcher is content to keep as much distance between them as possible. As she sees it, it's the only way to keep her from falling even more into those deep brown eyes. Of course Arizona remains professional on the fields… to everyone. Including Hahn who has seemed to up the bitchiness since their little talk Tuesday night. But Arizona keeps a smile plastered on her face and does what she is suppose to do. Never arguing, never giving lip. She busts her ass at each practice, each workout, each pitching session. And when she is released, she heads back to her room and buries her nose in her books. It's not fun, but it's what the blonde needs to do to keep her mind focused and her heart in check. Because like Teddy said, the climb isn't the fun part. It's hard and mean and makes people want to give up, makes them want to bail. But that view from the top… that's what keeps the few hanging on.
Where Arizona seems to be pulling it all together, Callie seems to be spiraling out of control. After Erica made a pass at her, which the Latina has decided it's best to just pretend like it didn't happen, she has been trying to get a read on the newcomer. But Arizona will hardly meet her gaze. And now it's starting to piece together for Callie what has happened between them. Callie kissed her, and Arizona got offended. No wonder the blonde shut down after that night. What the Latina mistook for as flirting was just Arizona being friendly. So Torres lets the woman be, giving her plenty of rope to play with. She figures if Arizona wants to talk about… the incident, then the blonde can come to her. Because Callie doesn't want to drive the pitcher further away by pressing the subject, especially when just one kiss has upset her so much.
In the days since her 'date', Erica has managed to become an even colder, and more distant player than ever. Before, she was mostly unbiased and would get on a players ass if they messed up, no matter who it was, but now focuses her attention on Arizona and those that seem to be getting closer to her. Namely Teddy, April, Lexie, and… much to Callie's displeasure, Addison Montgomery. Erica pushes them harder than the rest, always calling for one more pitch, one more lap, one more rep. Anything to make sure they all know who is the head of this team, even though no one is fighting her.
But everyone is on edge this week because they only have a hand full of practices left before hitting the road and becoming London bound. Though they have a good three weeks of traveling to do around the states, the finish line still remains across the pond where people drive on the wrong side of the road. So all the players are tense, and the coaches a tough. Everyone can taste that gold, and it tastes like blood, sweat and tears. All of it well worth it.
All of which was shed during the last practice on the Thursday before Team USA was set to depart. Both Cristina and Meredith are now sporting split, fat lips because both were intent on tracking down the same fly ball. And it appears even the best make the most foolish mistakes… like running face first into a teammate, both falling back on the grass in pain while the fly ball lands squarely between the two. Tears were shed by Kepner when Hunt unleashed his fury on the team and sent them all off on another two mile jog around the complex, which is the part where the sweat comes in.
But now practice has been completed, and most of Team USA is limping back to their apartments or to the training room to lick their wounds. Arizona Robbins, on the other hand, is tearing through the equipment shed because it's the last place she has yet to look. Sometime during her stay with the team, she has lost something very important to her and during the past two days she has torn everything and every place apart in attempts to find it. Her shoulder is throbbing, as well as her head from the dehydration she is no doubt suffering from, but that doesn't distract her from her search. Dirt and clay stick to her sweat laddened skin as she crawls around the dirty floor of the shed on her hands and knees, searching every crevasse she can find.
Which is the sight Callie Torres sees as she hauls the last bag of practice balls into the shed. Arizona, on her knees, head stuck under the golf cart and a very nice view of a short clad ass sticking up in the air. The catcher immediately looks for a way out because the last thing she wants is to make her relationship with the blonde more strained, so she attempts to set the balls down as quietly as she can. But just as it always happens, the quieter you try to be, the more noise you end up making. Because brown eyes are locked on the blonde's backside, Callie doesn't see the metal chalker right next to her and knocks into it as she swings the bag around to set it down, a loud clanging echoes throughout the shed.
"OW!" The blonde yelps in pain. The sound frightens the blonde so that she immediately jerks up, hitting her head on the undercarriage of the golf cart. With a hand on her, now doubly throbbing, head Arizona extracts herself from underneath the vehicle and finds a very stunned Latina.
Callie is shocked still, mouth agape and the heavy bag of balls just hanging from one hand like it weighs all of two pounds. She can feel a blush break across her face and right now the catcher really wishes there was a box of sand nearby so she could just bury her head and get it over with.
"S-sorry." The captain stammers as the blonde slowly rises to her feet, Arizona's face screwed up in an expression of pain. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you like that."
"No, it's ok, Boss." Arizona mumbles in response and trying furiously to rub out the aching in her head. "I was just…" She limply points out the garage door and starts to leave.
"Uh!" Callie chokes out and steps in front of the blonde, halting her retreat. "I was actually ummm… I wanted to uhh, can we talk?" The catcher stammers, suddenly feeling very hot and bothered. Arizona doesn't answer but instead takes a couple steps back, out of arms reach of the Latina because even though both of them are hot and sweaty and tired from a hard practice, Arizona can't help but hum with desire at the sight of the woman before her.
Taking the blonde's decision to stay as a green light, Callie backs up and leans against a dusty work bench, putting another couple feet between them. Blue eyes look anywhere but at the other woman with her, and brown eyes silently plead to find blue.
"Look, I…" The Latina starts but words are failing her right now. And she gets little help from the pitcher, who just leans back against a work bench on the opposite side of the shed. "I'm sorry." She blurts out and immediately wishes she could get the last two seconds back.
"Callie…" Arizona breathes out.
"No. Just, please… let me get this out." Callie cuts the woman off. "I just want to things to go back the way they were. Ok? I… I don't want a relationship. I don't want to kiss you. I don't want any of that. And I'm sorry that I kissed you, because it was wrong and stupid…" and because I want to remember the first time I kissed you. Or, that's what the catcher wants to say. But that would just push Arizona away further.
Arizona Robbins stands there, her head throbbing as she lets her captain's words sink in. Somehow… it's not any better. Not only does Callie think that they 'kissed' when they didn't, she just said that she doesn't want to kiss Arizona… again. Either Arizona is the good guy, takes the woman home and puts her to bed and gets turned down. Or she makes out with the catcher in a dirty bar bathroom and still gets shot down. Lose-lose.
"I'm a captain, and I should know better. I should lead by example." She exclaims, chastising herself more than she is actually talking to the blonde right now. "I DO lead by example. I am a DAMN good leader. My actions were… uncalled for and wrong and…" Torres looks up from the floor and finds that Arizona is still avoiding her gaze.
"Arizona…" Callie whispers, blue eyes finally meeting brown. "I'm sorry. I never wanted this to happen. Please believe me. Can we just… forget about it?"
Robbins pushes her hurt back down, and calls forth those barricades she's spent all week making. With one last second to mourn the loss of whatever possibility she had with this woman, the blonde pulls on her best dimpled smile and answers "Like it never happened." Torres doesn't miss the fact that Arizona's smile doesn't make it to her eyes, but she's said all she can say.
"Can I… help you look for whatever it was you were searching for?" The Latina asks, wanting to spend more time with the blonde just to get a better read on her. But Arizona seems to have some sort of mask pulled over her face, blocking any sort of emotion or expression beside the very fake smile marring her face.
"No, it wouldn't be out here anyway." The blonde replies, dropping her gaze again and shuffling out of the shed. "I've just run out of places to look." She adds with a defeated shrug.
Callie watches her player leave, thoroughly confused as to what these last four or five days have brought. Going into Sunday she had a firm grasp on everything. Her part on the team, where she stood with everyone, was a great friend with her co-captain, was having an amazing time getting to know her newest teammate better. Those Sunday coffee dates, or run ins as they were, were quickly becoming her favorite part of the week. Now everything seems to be all wrong. And the worst part is she can't remember how it got so screwed up.
"What-" The catcher calls, stopping Arizona in her tracks just as she is about to leave the confines of the shed. "-was it?" The blonde turns half way, her eyes remaining on the ground. "Just in case I might see it…" The Latina adds.
"Umm, it was a picture of my brother. Before he…" The plethora of emotions swirling within her means tears are closer than they usually are and the last thing Arizona wants right now is to become to blubbering blonde chick who cries when she gets shot down. Erica was right on that count. No one likes the girl that gets emotional. "It was my favorite. And I really wanted to have with me at the Games." She adds, then walks away leaving Callie standing by herself.
Back in apartment 16, Callie lays back on her bed as the steady pounding of soft rock reverberates off her walls. Feet propped up on the headboard and knees wrapped with ice and plastic wrap, her heads tips off to the side of the mattress giving her an upside down view of her room while she lets her mind wander. And no matter how many times she tries to reign it back in, she can't keep a certain blonde haired blue eye woman from her daydreams.
Just as one song fades out and the tracks flips, an upside down Amelia Shepard appears at the catcher's doorframe. The veteran pitcher has been flying under the radar for the past few days to avoid the already questioning eyes of Callie Torres. But the Latina has been less than attentive recently and Shepard can only guess as to why. She doesn't like Arizona, but she does like Callie. She's a good captain, a good friend, and a phenomenal catcher. Torres and Shepard are a team, and when one person on the team is dragging, the entire battery drags.
"Still going to Hahn's tomorrow night?" Amelia asks, not bothering to ask if she can enter her captain's bedroom and taking a seat at the desk chair.
"She cancelled." Callie replies coolly. It's not a lie, it's just not the entire truth. Erica did cancel their usual 'date night'. But their 'date nights' consisted of food, wine, movies and talking shop. Now Hahn wants their 'date nights' to consist of lady kisses, foot massages and ending up naked in bed together. And when Torres said no, it's natural that the blonde would cut the Latina off all together, even though Callie hasn't spoken of the incident since.
Brown eyes find those of her pitchers and Callie notices the slight bloodshotness. "You still sick?"
"Huh?" Amelia asks, and when Callie gestures to the woman's eyes she adds "Oh no, it's allergies." The catcher doesn't believe her, and Shepard can see the skepticism in her friends eyes so quickly sidesteps with "Dinner is in thirty. And… well, you stink. So get your ass in the shower Torres." With a light clap on a tanned shoulder, Amelia quickly leaves the woman's room before anymore questions can be had.
Back in her own room, her door closed and locked, Amelia takes a deep breath and tries to quell the growing itch within her. She knows she is playing with fire, putting everything on the line. With a shaky hand, Amelia pulls open one of the drawers to her desk and dips underneath a pile of crap disguising her cache. It fits in her hand perfectly, and just the thought of what it can do to her makes her body hum with relief. And yet… there is that voice in the back of her mind telling her to stop. Quit it. She's chancing everything, and not just for her. But when she spies the small 3x5 inch photo lying on top of the pile, blue eyes blonde hair and dimples smiling back up at her with a pressed Marine uniform on, the temptation is too much and Shepard gives in again.
"Damn it." Arizona growls, upending her Marine standard bed and tossing the mattress to the side as she continues her search for her missing treasure. "Where are you? Where the hell are you, Tim?" She mutters to herself as she checks, rechecks… and checks again, every inch of her tiny dorm style bedroom. But when the blonde comes up empty yet again, blue eyes turn back to the wake of Hurricane Arizona and decide that it just can't possibly be in her room. So, stepping over piles and piles of her personal affects, which are usually put away in their proper places at all times, she marches straight into her roommates bedroom.
Teddy is sitting on her bed, leaning back against the wall and her feet dangling from the mattress, reading the latest Sports Illustrated when her friend comes barging into her room at full steam. A look of determination is set on Arizona's face as she immediately starts to rip apart the first baseman's room.
"Um… hello…" Teddy drawls, not moving from her place on the bed. "Can I help you with something?" She asks, like she is answering the front door to a perfect stranger. It's not that Teddy is an overly private person, or that her bedroom is all that neat to begin with. But she's not exactly sure she and Arizona are on the 'go through all your personal stuff' friend level. Though that doesn't seem to be stopping the newcomer.
"I'm missing something." Arizona states, slamming the desk drawers shut and turning to the closet.
"You mean you lost something?" Altman chances, returning to the nice picture of a very buff football player in her magazine.
"No…" Robbins drawls, looking back at her friend. "Lost would imply an action. I didn't do anything. It just vanished into thin air." She adds, then continues to dump out the taller blondes clothes until she finds the bottom of the hamper.
"Well how much longer is this scavenger hunt going to take? Because we have dinner in about twenty minutes." The first base man muses, turning her magazine up lengthwise to get the full effect of a shirtless Troy Polamalu, dreads and all.
"I'm not hungry." The pitcher mumbles as she turns back to the face the rest of the room, her hands resting on dirt covered shorts. She has yet to change from practice because Arizona has had other things on her mind. Finding her brothers picture, for one. But namely, her chat with Callie. Which is why she is hunting for her brother's picture. To get Callie out of her mind. …It's not working so well.
Barely lifting her feet as Arizona starts to dig underneath her bed, Teddy replies "Still have to go. Team dinner."
"What?" Arizona yelps, head shooting up in surprise and hitting one of the wooden support planks. "Damn it!" She groans as she tries to crawl back out, that spot already sensitive from her earlier run in with the underbelly of the golf cart. Sitting up on her knees and eyeing her roommate, Robbins asks "What team dinner?"
"The one that Webber sent a text out about this morning." Teddy answers, looking up from the top ten tips to a stronger mental game. "And an email…" But blue eyes just stare back at her, lost and confused. "…And announced at practice?" Still, the blonde before her registers nothing. "Seriously? How could you not have heard? What is going on with you Robbins?"
"Nothing!" Arizona snaps back, maybe a bit too aggressively to really make Teddy believe her. "Just… everything. You know? Guess I'm just feeling the heat." And it's true. On top of everything else, the weight of what she… they are about to undertake has hit her square on the shoulders. It's a big deal representing your country, especially one with such a rich tradition of bringing home gold.
Still, Altman doesn't believe her friend is telling her the full story. But she's learned that Arizona Robbins is a closed book, a woman with secrets that she doesn't want let out. Even after nearly three weeks of spending day in and day out with her, Teddy barely knows the blonde past what she can do on the field, and what kind of food she eats. And Teddy doesn't push it, because everyone has things they don't talk about. And part of being a good friend is realizing those things… and not talking about them.
So instead of pushing her to expand on her revelation, Teddy offers "How about you go get ready for dinner, and I'll keep looking for… whatever it is you lost."
"I didn't lose it." Arizona bites back as she stands.
"Whatever." Teddy replies, rolling her eyes dramatically while also finding her way to her feet. With a firm hand between Robbins shoulder blades, the first base man shoves the blonde out of her bedroom and in the direction of the shower. "By the way, what am I looking for?"
"Ladies!" Webber announces over the din of the team's numerous conversations. They are seated out on the patio of their usual watering hole, everyone enjoying a beautiful night and some good company.
When the head coach realizes that the woman are too engaged in their own thing to stop, he raps a knife against his water glass, a high pitch clinking filling the air. "Ladies, please…" The conversations drown out and soon fourteen sets of eyes are looking towards the head of the table, as well as Richard's three assistant coaches.
"Thank you. I promise I won't make this a long affair." The older gentleman says, smiling at the image of his team cleaned up and out together. It's not a formal dinner, but it's kind of a big deal when he gets to see all of his players wearing something other than knee high softball socks and dirt encrusted practice clothes.
"As you all know, tomorrow is our last official practice." Richard starts, and everyone applauds at the fact that their long journey has finally come to some sort of resting point. They are far from done, but at least the relentless practices and drills are about to die down in lieu of more game like situations.
Holding up a hand to silence the crowd again, Coach Webber continues "And to kick off our road trip, for tomorrows practice we will be scrimmaging Oklahoma City University's nationally ranked team. But tonight… I wanted to say that I am very blessed to take on this journey with you amazing ladies." He raises his glass to the table, then eyes his three assistant coaches "And gentleman. I truly believe that there is no finer team in the world. A fact that we will show everyone in just under a month when we step onto that field in London." Smiles erupt around the table. "So I'd like to propose a toast…."
Seventeen glasses get lifted into the air to accompany Richard's as he simply states. "USA."
"All the way!" The team toasts, players clinking glasses with those around them and taking a drink. With that, the women return to their earlier engagements, picking up conversations where they left off.
Callie Torres looks up and down the table, glancing at the face of each one of her team mates. She's nestled a little more than half way down from Richard, who is seated at the head of the table with the rest of the coaches. To her right is Amelia, and to her left is Naomi, the three of them arriving just on time after the Latina nearly made them all late. Brown eyes finally fall upon the face of Erica Hahn, seated abnormally far away from her co-captain. And this does not go unnoticed by the rest of the team but no one has the balls to question it.
And almost as if Erica can sense her gaze, the blonde looks up and locks eyes with Callie. For the past two days she has been licking her wounds and taking her hurt and anger out on her team. Erica Hahn is not one to be made a fool of, and that is exactly what Callie did. If the co-captain where in a reasonable, non-emotion filled frame of mind, Erica would understand the Latina's reservations. After all, it's not exactly ethical to strike up a relationship with a teammate, a fellow co-captain no less, just as their team is gearing up for the Games. But she's not in that place. No, Erica Hahn is in the dark place.
So when Callie offers a tight, reconciliatory smile from the length of the table, the blonde doesn't respond in kind. Instead dropping her gaze to the meal in front of her and aggressively poking at some kind of fish that she doesn't even feel like eating anymore.
Arizona, however, is unaware of this silent exchange as she is nestled between Addison and Teddy. The friendship that has sparked up between the blonde and redhead is something Arizona never really thought would happen. Sure, spending a couple hours sitting in the dirt sipping warm beer is one thing. But it's a bit different when the veteran player actually seeks the pitcher out to chat with. And that is what has happened numerous times since Tuesday night.
Leaning in close to Addison, seated on her left, Arizona whispers "You and Derek really need to cover your tracks better. …There was a nice ass print on the hood of the golf cart, and hand prints on either side of it when I was in there today."
The redhead, sitting directly across from a certain Latina, stops her fork midway to her mouth. "What?" She snaps, a bit louder than she wanted which makes Callie look up and see her friend and her… Arizona leaning in closer than necessary. Addison sends her roommate a smile then glances back to Arizona and says "That wasn't us."
But Arizona isn't listening anymore because those brown eyes sitting across from her and one seat down have sucked her in. It has only been a couple hours since their chat, but it seems like days. It's not right how much the blonde craves Callie's touch, Callie's lips, Callie's body. And what makes it worse is the notion that it can't happen. But that's how it always is, isn't it? You want the thing you can't have. The more forbidden it is, the juicier the fruit appears.
Calliope Torres isn't oblivious to Arizona's stare, her mind immediately forming an image of what their kiss must have been like. That kiss that Callie so wishes she was able to remember. That kiss that has haunted her in the worst of nightmares, and that has shined in her happiest of dreams. The Latina tries to imagine the way Arizona's lips tasted against her, the way her strong tongue would slip out between pink lips and trace over Callie's, pleading for entrance. How her fair body would feel pressed tightly against Torres's taller, stronger frame. The light moans falling from each other's throats as they grind and buck and rive against one another. The blonde's arousal collecting on Callie's thigh as she…
"Am I interrupting something?" Addison asks, making the Latina jump nearly a foot as she is propelled out of her day dreaming. Arizona pulls away from the redhead like she got bit, also shaking her mind of a very vivid image forming there.
"Uhh wha-what?" The blonde stammers, trying to rid her face of the heat now settled across her cheeks, an accompanying heat also lingering between her legs.
"I said, that wasn't us." Addison repeats herself, pretending like she didn't just see her best friend and her newest friend have the most intense three seconds of eye contact ever in the history of girl on girl action.
"But you two…" Arizona fades out, making a crude thrusting gesture with her hands while trying to avert her attention from the now very curious Latina sitting across from them.
"Yeah. But not on the golf cart." The veteran replies, then takes a big bite of her cheeseburger which signals the end of this line of questioning.
The blonde's brow furrows in confusion. If it wasn't Addison and Derek, who Arizona knows were getting it on in the teams equipment shed, then who was it? That butt print was definitely a woman's… because Arizona KNOWS a woman's ass when she sees it. And those hand prints were big, meaning that it was a man accompanying said woman. The way the prints were arranged left little room for speculation as to what the pair was doing on top of that hood. Arizona runs down the list of possible pairs there are on this team as she slowly looks from one team member to the next. But her eyes don't have to travel for long, because just off to the side of the head of the table is Coach Owen Hunt. A smirk plays across Arizona's lips as she remembers how she interrupted a particularly passionate make out which resulted in a very embarrassed redhead and a blushing first baseman. Slowly, Arizona turns her gaze to the woman on the other side of her, finding Teddy thoroughly enjoying her fajita tacos.
The catcher across the table sits and watches as Arizona leans in close to Altman and whispers something in her ear. The next second, the first base man is choking on her food and turning a color red that Callie never even knew existed. Arizona looks like she is about to burst from the laughter she's holding in while firmly patting her friend on the back to dislodge a piece of lettuce. All of which is enough to catch the attention of most of the teammates surrounding them.
"You alright Teds?" Arizona asks loud enough for everyone looking on to hear.
The taller blonde just coughs then takes a drag at her water before gasping "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." And the stare Robbins receives from her roommate would be enough to send anyone running for the hills but Arizona just laughs and smiles.
Callie can't help but smile as well, not because of the scene Teddy just made, but because those dimples are the cutest thing she has ever seen. For the past few days whenever Arizona has smiled, it has been forced. But this smile… those dimples… are genuine. And all the Latina can think about is being the one that makes the magical tune fall from pink lips, being the one who makes those sweet dimples come to life. But no, she can't. Because she told Arizona she didn't want that. But she does… she really does.
Their good time is interrupted by someone shouting at the top of their voice "HELP!" Everyone stops and turns towards the voice. "Someone help! Please!" The voice is definitely a woman's, and it sets everyone's hair on edge.
A deeper voice yells "Is there a doctor here? Help! A doctor? Someone call 911!"
Without even thinking about it, Arizona bolts out of her chair and races towards the source of chaos, most of the team right behind her. The pitcher weaves through the tables and finds a hysterical woman, a scared man and a young girl who is quickly turning blue. The woman is pounding on the girls back, like she is trying to dislodge something from her throat.
"Move." The man yells, pushing the woman aside and wrapping his arms around the girl, giving her the Heimlich maneuver. Arizona looks down at the kid's plate finding the shell remnants of a mussel, quickly putting two plus two together.
"Stop!" Arizona yells. "Stop, she's not choking. Lay her out on the floor." She instructs the man. "Anyone have an epi pen? !" The blonde shouts, hoping to do this the easy way, but no one comes forward with one. So she turns to one of the shocked waitresses, she barks "I need your sharpest knife, a sterile straw, clean rag and a handiwipe." Kneeling down next to the not breathing girl, Arizona probes at the girls glands and neck, finding both extremely swollen.
"She… she took one of my mussels then then then started to choke." The man stammers while the woman looks on in terror.
"She's having an allergic reaction to the shellfish. Acute anaphylaxis. I need to perform a emergency Cricothyrotomy so she can breathe. What's her name?" Arizona asks, pushing aside the panic and drawing on years and years of experience.
"Samantha." The woman cries just as the waitress comes running to the pitcher with her requested items, a phone in her other hand as she blurts out what is happening to a 911 operator. By now most of the restaurant is huddled around the scene, staring down at the girl quickly losing her fight to live.
Tearing open the package of the handiwipe, the blonde quickly wipes the tip of the knife and then a small patch of the girls throat. "Ok, Samantha. Listen to me, my name is Dr. Arizona Robbins and I'm a surgeon. I'm going to help you breathe again but it's going to hurt… a lot. Just hang with me, ok?" She doesn't wait for a response because any extra second spent without oxygen is a second Samantha is closer to death. So with a calming breath, Arizona holds the girls neck still with one hand and glides the razor sharp knife with the other.
The girl's skin puts up a fight, but is quickly split and bright red blood seeps from her open wound. Gasps and murmurs and prayers are said around the circle, but it all fades from Arizona's mind just like every other time she's put cold steel to a child's flesh.
"Straw." Arizona commands, and the woman hands over the sterilized, or as sterile as a restaurant floor will allow, straw. "This is going to hurt, Sam. Hang tough sweetie." The blonde says softly, then pushes the plastic material through the open wound, breaking through the last few layers of muscle and tissues before finding the hollow airway she was looking for.
Blood sputters up through the straw as Samantha takes her first ragged breath in minutes, but finally the sound of clear air flowing in and out of the red instrument fills the air. "That's right, just breathe." Arizona sighs, taking the rag and protecting the wound from open air.
Finally blue eyes look up and find the mass of people surrounding her and the girl, her entire team shocked and slack jawed. Cristina and Meredith are standing up on chairs in the back, trying to get a better view while Teddy has an impressed look on her face.
And then she finds the Latina's gaze, the two sharing the briefest of stares before the woman, who Arizona doesn't believe is Sam's mother, asks "Is she ok?"
Turning her attention back to the preteen lying on the floor and trying to slow her breathing, Arizona answers "She should be fine. I'm guessing she's not your daughter."
"No. My husband and I are watching her for the night." The woman replies, tears streaming down her face. "We didn't even know she had allergies. Oh God! What do I tell her mother?"
The rumbling of a big engine, followed by the telltale clanking and banging of an ambulance gurney greets the blondes ears and she sends up a silent prayer in thanks before responding with "Tell her that her daughter is alive. And to get educated on how to deal with these kinds of allergies." An EMT kneels next to Arizona as she recounts what happened, along with a brief synopsis of the procedure done. Within minutes, Sam is being lifted into the back of an ambulance along with her caregivers for the night.
Patrons slowly go back to their seats as the restaurant staff clean up and get things back in swing. As she hands over a bloody knife to a very appreciative café owner, Arizona says "I suggest that if you serve shellfish or peanuts, you keep an epi pen on hand for emergencies. …And that your staff know how to use one."
"Effective tomorrow, we will." The owner replies, thanking the blonde once again for her fast action and calmness in the face of an emergency.
Stepping back out onto the patio, blue eyes find her team has resettled at their table. But as soon as Arizona takes a seat all conversations stop and every eye turns toward her. And this is what she didn't want happening. The secret she didn't want out. She has many secrets of course, but all her secrets seem to stem from this one big secret.
Everyone has one of those secrets. One that they cover up with other secrets and lies in effort to keep their past hidden. But one thing is certain; whatever it is we're trying to hide, we're never ready for that moment when the truth gets naked. That's the problem with secrets. Like misery, they love company. They pile up and up until they take over everything; until you don't have room for anything else, until you're so full of secrets you feel like you're going to burst. The thing people forget is how good it can feel when you finally set secrets free. Whether good or bad, at least they're out in the open, like it or not. And once your secrets are out in the open, you don't have to hide behind them anymore.
AN2: Wowza… what a chapter huh? Let me know what you think. Much much more to come. Stay tuned, folks.