Title: Extraordinary Measures

Author: J.M. Flowers

Rating: M

AN: This chapter was probably the most difficult of the final chapters to get out. I want to thank Anna, so much, for writing me a skeleton smut situation and letting me build upon it - I'm not good at the technicals of sex so I was really, really scared about writing what this chapter needs to accomplish. I'm still really unsettled by this piece of the puzzle, but I hope you enjoy it just the same. Only 3 chapters to go after this! See you back here next week. :)


Una in perpetuum

Together forever

She wraps herself in my arms and it's purer somehow when we're intertwined. I can smell her tears, the salt on her skin. Somewhere, deep inside, I know she's right. Even if it kills me, kills us both, she's right.

She tucks her head against my chest, still sniffling. "Tonight you're here," she murmurs into the swell of my breast, her lips poised above my beating heart. "Tonight it's just us, together. Here."

"Tonight," I echo. Tonight we can still pretend we have forever.

She leads the way from the kitchen, guiding us backwards with her mouth on mine. Her fingers toy with the hairs at the nape of my neck, twisting them into spiral curls. I peruse her frame, slipping my hands beneath the hem of her shirt, index finger counting slowly up the vertebrae of her spine. Lumbar, then thoracic. I'm just beginning on the cervical when the backs of my knees hit the bed frame.

And just like that, a switch flips between us. The trembling emotions of the past few days are pushed aside, abandoned for the desire of skin. And I want hers against mine right now.

We fall onto the sheets, a whirlwind of hands, a cascade of heat. I feel her move above me and I'm torn momentarily, struggling between wanting to hold her here like this and wanting to feel her inside me. Wanting to feel her inhabiting as much of me as she can. She calls my name, her voice quivering between desire and intimacy as much as I'm sure mine would.

One of us chooses to give in, my shirt ripped from my body. My bra falls from my chest, unhooked at some point. Her shirt joins mine, tossed haphazardly behind us to settle somewhere on our bedroom floor. I find the clasp of her bra and flick it open, her breasts falling free above me.

I lean forward, wrapping my mouth around one tightened nipple. She tosses her head backwards, moaning loudly at the contact. But her hands are steady, working the button of my jeans in the limited space between our bodies. When I switch sides on her chest, swirling her other areola with my tongue, she's already pushing denim down my body. I lift my hips in acquiescence, egging her on.

She pulls my underwear off at the same time, lowering herself back onto me as I kick the offending objects away. Her hips roll against mine, grinding the warmth of her center into me. I can feel the heat of her, radiating through the thin material of her leggings.

"Off," I beg, coherence lost somewhere in the rush of her touch.

She lifts herself from me, a groan escaping my lips of its own accord. But then she's back, and she's naked, and there's more fervor to her actions than before. Her hands are everywhere, tangling in my hair, kneading at my breasts, squeezing the flesh above my hips. She kisses all the places she can reach - tongue swirling in my belly button, teeth nipping at my beating pulse.

The first touch of her fingertips to my clit is like an electric shock, startling me into action and reminding my body of what my mind already knows. I bite at every inch of skin I can find, sucking marks onto her shoulders, her arms. I want her to be tattooed by me wherever she goes. Wherever I go.

Her hand slips lower and lower until she's inside me, fingers curling along my walls. A moan rips through me and it's all I can do to bury my face in the curve of her neck. Arizona's free hand wraps around my waist, holding me to her. I grind against her pelvis instinctively, my release approaching faster with every twist of her fingers.

I press my nose into the dip of her collarbone, my senses overwhelmed by her: her hair curtaining my face, the scent of coconut shampoo still lingering and mixing with our sweat, her voice encouraging me, an impossible combination of soft and strong, gentle and demanding. My tongue flicks out to taste her skin; my hands settle on her breasts.

The orgasm hits me suddenly, far earlier than I would like. I reach my crescendo at full speed, screaming her name, falling from the edge in the only place I ever want to be - here, in her arms. The world goes wayward for a moment, dizziness enveloping me like a starlit sky. The universe wrapping around me in waves of pleasure.

When my breathing slows, I seek out her sex, my fingers slipping into the space between us with a practiced ease. The warm wetness that meets my hand is nothing short of a moonlit fountain, an oasis in the desert. A million butterflies tickling over my skin and a thousand nights just like this one. I will never love another as I love her, I know that inexplicably.

I slide down her body, taking my time to memorize every rise and fall, every freckle, every scar. I trace the hollow of her belly button, count the ribs above her racing heart and heaving lungs, lick the curves of her iliac crests. I study it all, memorizing. Re-memorizing. Every perfect imperfection, every piece that makes her who she is. My Arizona.

With the first suck of her clit, my mouth fills with sweetness. With softness, with smoothness. With strength and with passion and - my God - with so, so much love. My mouth fills with her - everything I remember and then some. The Arizona who stole my heart. The woman I married, who swore to me that she'd be at my side for a lifetime. Even if it was cut short.

Even if death did we part.

Her legs wrap around my head and once again I'm surrounded by her, filled with her. Her moans a symphony, my tongue the conductor's baton. I am creating my masterpiece, my final work. I lick inside of her as far as I can reach, and when I feel her hips jump into my face, I bring one hand to her clit. I rub it in slow circles, then fast, then slow, pushing her to the brink and then teasing her back.

She chants my name like a mantra, louder and louder until she explodes into the most glorious pleasure I've ever seen. Arizona is all I can smell, all I can taste as I lick her clean.

She's all I can feel as she pulls me back up, into her arms.

"I love you," I tell her over and over, and she's saying it, too: our two voices fitting into the spaces we make for each other. Just like our bodies.

Just like our hearts.

#

Hours later, we lie still. Not sated, but at peace; calm. No amount of Arizona is ever going to be enough, I realize. Not when tonight is tonight and tomorrow...

Our legs tangle together, each of us ending where the other begins. We are one in this moment, and I plead with the universe to let me feel like this forever. To never take this away from me again.

Arizona's breathing is steady, but I can't follow her into sleep. I can't miss one minute of tonight, one second of being here like this. I burrow into her and she stirs, nuzzling her cheek against my head. My eyes feel heavy, but I fight to keep them open.

In the distance, thunder rumbles, the beginnings of a storm creeping in. I listen as rain softly falls from the sky, splattering against our bedroom window. It picks up quickly, the soft pitter-patter making room for a sideways downpour . It pelts the building loudly, echoing through our quiet, darkened space.

Dimly, I feel a droplet of water on my neck. It takes me a moment to realize it's not the rain leaking through our ceiling, but a tear.

I don't know which of us it came from.

#

The morning is as dark as I feel, the weather still mirroring our emotions. Like the universe is mourning what lies ahead as much as we are.

But God, I've barely even thought about it. Barely even registered what she's asking me to do. It's so easy, to just follow her lead. To let her be the guiding force of my life, just like before.

I simply stand by in wait as she makes pancakes neither of us can choke down. Watch as she dumps them in the garbage can with shaking hands, slams the lid shut in frustration.

"I called Senna," she finally says. "She'll meet us there."

And then it hits me and suddenly I'm crying and my legs are giving out and I'm reaching for her all in one instant. We lower to the kitchen floor, wrapped together, both of us sobbing out a grief we gave ourselves. Because she's asking me to say goodbye to her again, asking me to face a life without her. It isn't fair - none of it is fair.

"I love you, Callie," she promises, kissing wherever she can reach. My shoulders, my neck, my jaw, my hair. I commit to memory the feel of her mouth on me, the scrape of her teeth and the flick of her tongue and the pressure of her lips.

I can't forget a single thing, a single second. Not this time. Not ever.

"I don't want to go," I manage somehow, my words book ended by the quivering of my jaw, squeezing her tighter. "I don't want to live without you, not again."

She takes a shuddering breath, pulling away so she can look me in the eye. "Calliope..." her voice catches and she swallows roughly before trying again. "You did this, you came here... So you could save me. You saved me. You reminded me what it feels like to love, and you gave us these last few days. You gave us a bit more time just to be together. To just be in love." She shudders, more tears spilling over her lower lashes. "Let me... Let me save you, now. Let me give you a little bit more time."

We don't know what lies ahead. We don't know what this layer will look like, once I go back. If I'll still exist here, if it'll be like before with the dreams and the confusion and the losing her. If I'll die, like Dr. Lewis and his cancer. If this whole layer will simply cease to exist, as if I was never here. As if there was never an instance where she survived the accident.

The fear pours over me, worse than a thousand times in that on call room. Worse than seeing Mark outside that door. Worse than watching from the gallery as she flat lined, as Derek Shepherd called time of death. This fear, this uncertainty, is not something I think I can face.

She tucks me in against her chest, my ear right above where her heart beats. Steady.

"Please don't make me do this," I whimper. "Please don't make me leave you."

She sighs, stroking my hair. Her hands drift down my back, rubbing gentle circles. "He talked a lot about fate in the journals, Callie. About the cost of meddling."

I lift my head, meeting her eyes.

"The ripples, he said, of destinies... They carry over. They transfer."

I nod. Teddy. "The car accident," I murmur.

"It was my fate, Callie."

Her death.

"And then -" She shakes her head, swiping at another tears as it dribbles down her cheek. "Even if you tried again... Even if you saved Teddy..."

It hits me square in the chest, knocking the breath from my lungs. "Someone will always die."

She reaches for my hand, clasping it between both of her own. "We can't, Callie. You said... you said you were the last. We have to end this. And - and... the machine, Callie, it's made you... We have to..." Her voice wavers, chest heaving as she fights against more tears. "We have to put our faith in our destinies. Whatever they may be, we have to believe that what happens is what is meant to happen."

I nod, leaning forward. She meets me in the middle, our foreheads pressed together. I stare into her eyes, brimming with tears. I wipe them away with my thumbs.

None of this is easy; it was never meant to be.