It was drizzling in mid-August, the kind of hot, sticky rain that drowned carefully kept flower beds and evaporated off black-topped pavement in hazy waves. Children would jump from puddle to muddy puddle and coat themselves with grime on their walks to school, and the smell of wet dog and freshly overturned dirt would take days to leave the small town's air.

Arizona, baby-faced and only 18, pressed her forehead against the taxi cab's backseat window, watching her hometown blur by for what she hoped would be the last time.

Today was the first day of the rest of her life.

She was leaving Sweetwine. She was actually doing it. She was trading in seedy gas stations and gravel roads for the seaside towns and huge libraries and lighthouses of northern Rhode Island.

The strenuous hours of ACT prep work and AP classes and extracurriculars and volunteer hours had been worth it. Her and her closest friend, Alex, had been at each other's throats for four years over the valedictorian title, but Arizona had ultimately come out on top. She was attending an Ivy League on a full ride scholarship, the first ever in her family to attend college, and her head was buzzing, making her feel drunk with excitement.

She couldn't wait for the crisp air and openmindedness and snow—real snow—that was waiting for her up north. Her parents had scrapped together enough money to buy Arizona her first ever heavy winter coat as a departing gift, and she had packed it away neatly in her suitcase, currently thrown in the trunk of the taxi next to Callie's.

Callie. That was the very best part. Callie was moving with her, set to attend an acclaimed culinary school only a few miles from Brown University, and they would finally be free to come out of hiding, to love one another openly, to begin building their beautiful new life together.

It was going to be perfect.

Arizona turned to face her girlfriend, whose own eyes were pasted to the window and watching the outside world, and reached for her hand, offering her a warm, loving smile when she shifted to look at her. Callie had been quiet the entire ride to the airport. Pensive, a little stoic. Arizona figured the nerves over their first ever plane ride were getting to her.

"Look," the blonde said suddenly, hoping to distract Callie from whatever thoughts were bugging her. She pulled a pack of gummy bears out of her bag, letting them fall haphazardly in the brunette's lap, and shot her a toothy grin. "For the flight. It's a few hours long, and I really didn't want us to be stuck with just pretzels the whole time," her nose crinkled in distaste.

When it failed to make Callie smile even a little bit, she shifted uncomfortably, before switching up her tactic.

"Do you think we can ride a sailboat in Rhode Island? I've always wanted to do that."

Nothing.

She exhaled softly through her nose. She had never seen Callie's face, usually so expressive and full of fire, so blank before. She looked empty. Different than nervous. "Calliope? Are you okay?" She worried her lower lip between her teeth and fidgeted with her girlfriend's hand, a habit she had picked up long ago.

"Yeah," but Callie's voice broke as she said it, and she tore her eyes away from Arizona to watch her window once more, stomach clenching tighter and tighter the closer they got to the airport.

Arizona tipped their driver when they arrived at drop-offs, thanking him with a dimpled smile before crawling out of the beaten-up cab. She grabbed her suitcase, and then Callie's, passing it to the brunette before blue eyes distractedly skimmed over the sea of signs surrounding them. She had never flown before, and the airport was a bit intimidating. "I think we check in over here," she started walking, and it took her a few moments to realize Callie wasn't following her.

She turned around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Baby, c'mon, we're gonna be late," she coaxed gently, face falling when her eyes landed on Callie's.

She was crying. Just standing there in silence, sad tears in her eyes, not moving.

Arizona was next to her in a second. "Hey, hey," she moved to wipe a stray tear off her cheek. "Hey, it's okay. Please don't cry." She attempted to rub her back in soothing circles, but Callie jerked away from her touch as if it had burned her.

"I can't get on that plane with you, Arizona."

Arizona's mouth ran dry. "What?" She tried in vain to step closer to her girlfriend, not yet comprehending what was going on. "I know this is scary," the blonde tried. "And it'll be hard at first, and we may have to sleep on the floor of a shitty apartment for a while, but it'll be okay." Arizona dimpled, always the optimist. "Because we'll have each other. Okay? So let's get on the plane and eat some gummy bears and talk about it there."

That only made Callie cry harder. The Latina shook her head and stepped further away, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'm not going," she said firmly, wiping hot tears off of her cheeks, getting ahold of herself. It was like a mask had gone up, turning her emotions off in the process, and those warm brown eyes glazed over, turning cold. "You go. And you take care of yourself."

"Callie," Arizona's voice was weak. Scared. "I don't want to go without you. I need you with me, okay?" Indigo eyes shined with unshed tears.

But Callie stood her ground, seemingly unphased by the sound of her confused pleas. "No, you don't need me," she insisted, refusing to look her in the eyes. She could barely choke out the next words. "I can't… I can't do this anymore. You and me."

"Why are you doing this?" Arizona was the one crying now, tears freely spilling over. It was rare for the blonde to wear her emotions on her sleeve, especially so publicly, but it felt like she was being physically torn into two pieces. "We were fine just last night. What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," the Latina swallowed thickly. "I was… I was just having fun, experimenting a little, but now high school's over and it's time for me to grow up."

Arizona's heart squeezed painfully, and she tried to suck in a breath of air. "I don't believe that. I don't believe you. I love you and you love me and there's no way that—"

"I don't love you."

The words were simple. Concise. And they carried enough strength to break whatever remaining part of Arizona still clung to an ounce of hope. "I don't believe you," she repeated, messily wiping hot tracks of tears off of her face, trying to convince herself more than she was Callie. "You said you loved me and that we'd be together forever and that—"

"I lied."

Arizona had never seen Callie so callous before, so unsympathetic. It broke her. She begged, "Callie…"

"I never loved you, not in that way. I like boys. Okay? So this is over. I'm really sorry."

Arizona shook her head. She was so stupid. So fucking stupid. The devastation and desolation she felt was replaced, momentarily, by white-hot anger, a much easier emotion for the blonde to stomach. "I fucking hate you," she choked out, but she knew it was a lie even as it left her mouth. She loved her. She loved her so much she could feel her entire body drowning in it.

She could see the way her words made Callie wince, but then she was steeling her face once again. "You're going to be such a good doctor, Arizona," she said softly, and Arizona hated her even more for being so nice even as she was ripping her heart out. "You be safe, okay?"

It felt like she couldn't breathe as Callie spun to walk away from her, away from the love they had built over their eleven years together, and towards the curb outside to catch a taxi. "Please don't go," she knew she was begging, and she knew she looked pathetic. She was in the middle of an airport, distraught and sobbing over someone that didn't even love her.

Callie didn't even turn around to look at her.

"Callie, please," she could feel herself start to shake. She wanted to run after her, to beg her to take all of it back, but she couldn't move. She couldn't even speak.

And then Callie disappeared from her line of vision for good, and her remaining composure crumbled.

She could barely breathe. Passersby would probably think someone had died, and Arizona was fairly certain she would have handled that better. She struggled for air, ragged gasps between muffled cries as she walked in a trance toward the ticket counter, body moving on autopilot.

"Arizona?"

How much of it had been real? Had Arizona imagined everything between them, made it up in her head? She was fairly certain it was impossible to conjure up a feeling that strong on command. She felt dirty. Ashamed. She hiccupped quietly, trying to control her emotions, trying to stop trembling so much, trying to pretend the world hadn't just been ripped from beneath her feet, trying, trying, trying.

"'Zona…"

And how was she ever supposed to live without Callie? Her Callie, kind and strong, a beacon of light. Her best friend in the entire world. The only person on earth who knew everything about her, that could make her laugh until her ribs ached. Her Callie.

She hated her. But, God, did she love her.

"Arizona, wake up."

Blue eyes shot open and she inhaled, grateful when the oxygen she had been deprived of in her nightmare finally filled her lungs. A hand fell to her forehead and she tried to orient herself, frowning when she found herself cold and covered in sweat.

"You're shaking, Z," Lucy said from beside her, voice laced with concern. "Are you okay? Are you sick?" She reached out to feel Arizona's skin, and the blonde flinched at the contact, still tense and a little distressed from her dream.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry for waking you," she rubbed her tired eyes before straining them to see the clock in the dark. Half past 4 AM. Adrenaline was still coursing through her and she could feel her heart hammering against her ribs, and she knew there was no possible way she'd get back to sleep anytime soon. She blindly pressed a kiss to the side of her girlfriend's face in the dark and crawled out of bed. "I think I'm gonna go for a run."

"It's still dark out," Lucy mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "Just be safe."

"I always am," she pulled on a black pair of leggings and a cream-colored sweatshirt as quickly and quietly as possible. She realized her hands were trembling when she went to lace up her tennis shoes, and she balled them into fists to stop them.

She turned to leave, then remembered something suddenly.

"Your big surgery's today?"

"Yeah," she could hear the smile in Lucy's tired voice, and she felt awful for forgetting. "I'll be home late. I finally get to scrub in with Yang." The younger girl had been gushing about the head of cardio at the hospital since her very first day.

"Good luck. Go be awesome."

"I always am," and Lucy was drifting off back to sleep.

The blonde let a soft sigh escape her, then quietly gathered her things and left.

Her girlfriend was right, it was still dark outside. And quiet. As her feet pounded against the sidewalk pavement, she found herself hyperaware of her surroundings and a little jumpy. Every shadow felt menacing, every noise a threat. No wonder Callie always called during her late-night walks.

Callie. Just the thought of her filled her with warmth.

It had been eleven days since their Sunday morning rendezvous in the diner, and they had talked on the phone every single night since. Callie called at 11:30, like clockwork, and Arizona would get sickeningly smiley each time her phone rang. Hearing that voice had quickly morphed into her favorite part of the day.

They talked about everything and nothing—how work went, the new pies Callie was thinking up in her head, the TED talk on fetal surgery Arizona had watched the night before. Callie would ramble about Addison and Mark and Jo and Richard and the rest of the familiar faces at the diner, and Arizona would share funny stories from her college days, and it was so easy, so natural, the way that they taught one another about their new lives.

They never talked about the airport though. Never that. And they glossed over the subject of Luke and Lucy every time.

Twice in the past eleven days, Arizona's lunch break had aligned perfectly with Callie's, and the brunette had easily sweettalked her into stealing away for a visit.

So she'd bring a lunch to share, and the two would spend the hour in the front seat of Arizona's Lexus, parked in the empty alley behind the diner. They would eat and flirt and laugh together, and it always began innocently enough.

And then hands would inevitably drift between knees, and lips would meet, and their lunch would fall forgotten to the floorboard.

It was always quick and discreet and hot. God, it was hot. More than once, Arizona had found herself daydreaming about Callie and what they did behind those tinted windows while she was midst conversation with April or Teddy, and her cheeks would always flush bright pink when she finally snapped out of it.

She ached for more, though.

She wanted white bedsheets and waking up slow in the morning and time. Time to worship every inch of Callie, time to savor the way she made her feel, time to let herself come completely unraveled under her fingertips. They were always constrained, forced to rush and put themselves back together neatly once their breaks ended, forced to rush and hang up the phone when Callie made it home each night.

It was excruciating and frustrating but better—so much better—than when Callie hadn't been in her life at all. Arizona would happily take her in these small doses, these secret moments, over and over again if it meant she could have even a small piece of the brunette.

It was a bit pathetic and a lot erroneous, she knew that. She felt awful about it, but she couldn't stay away, couldn't say no, not when it came to her.

Arizona wiped sweat off of her forehead as she ran, her heart hammering against her chest and her legs starting to twinge with exhaustion as she approached the empty field she used to play softball in as a kid. She slowed to a stop and slumped down against a tree to catch her breath, not minding the grass stains and dirt.

The sun would be rising soon, and she really needed to get going. She needed to take a shower and change before work, needed to get back to being the perfect, smiley doctor the town knew her as.

But for now, she let her head rest against the bark of the tree, and she let her eyes soak in the southern sunrise she had, deep down, missed for so many years. No city lights to obstruct her view—just marbled orange and vibrant pink and a deep red sun coloring the world. She let the quietness envelope her, let it squeeze her into a hug like an old friend, and she finally let her heart fill with the one feeling she had denied it access to for years and years.

It was small, for now, just beginning to seep into the cracks Callie had left. Maybe it had never gone away in the first place, lying dormant until sparked into an inevitable relapse.

Either way, Arizona was undeniably certain she would never, despite her greatest efforts, be able to stop loving Calliope Torres.

"Girls!"

The sharp squeal that erupted from Jo's mouth made Callie jump, and she cursed under her breath when she bumped her hip on the corner of a table. She rubbed it to soothe the sharp sting and furrowed her brows at her coworker. "Christ, this better be good," the brunette mumbled to Addison, and the two girls laughed under their breath before turning to look at their younger friend.

Jo was beaming, a soft glow radiating off of her, and visibly bouncing with excitement.

"You're late, Wilson, second time this week," Mark yelled from the back of the kitchen, but Jo just rolled her eyes.

"Oh, hush, I had a good reason today," she assured, brushing off the scolding from her boss. She held her hand out for the rest of the waitresses to see, eyes gleaming. A small, but pretty, ring adorned her hand. "I'm gettin' married!"

Callie felt herself smile. Jo had been gushing about her boyfriend for months, a dentist a bit older than her from the town over, and she was genuinely happy for her. "He finally popped the question?"

"Yes! At dinner last night. I knew he was acting weird lately."

"Men always act weird, honey," Addison said with a smirk, then opened her arms to hug her. "Get used to that. Welcome to the waitress wives club. We're all miserable here."

"Don't listen to her." Callie rolled her eyes at her friend and cleared off a table, frowning when she realized the only tip left for her had been a couple of spare quarters. She scowled and pocketed the change, trying to stamp down to rising frustration inside her. It had been a long, grueling day, and it was approaching 4 PM, the start of her second shift. "You're gonna make a beautiful bride, Jo," Callie said sweetly, and Jo's smile only widened.

"You'll be my bridesmaids, yeah? It won't be nothing fancy, just a simple ceremony with friends and family. Oh! Cal, you could bake a nice pie for the guests? I always liked pie better than cake anyhow."

She smiled at her enthusiasm, missing that naïve hopefulness, that zest for life. "Of course, sweetie," and she rolled her eyes at the way Jo jumped up and down.

"I can't believe I'm getting married, and to a dentist no less," Jo started to ramble dreamily as she pinned on her nametag and prepared for the start of her shift. "Will y'all come out with me to celebrate tonight? Shots on me."

"Um…" Callie shifted uncomfortably, brown eyes landing on Addison and silently pleading for help. "I don't think I can tonight. Luke will be expecting me."

"Oh," Jo's nose crinkled a bit. "How about Friday night then?"

"I think we have plans then, too," she lied, desperate for a change in subject.

"You're no fun these days, Cal," Jo rolled her eyes. "You haven't come out with us in years!"

"I know," she swallowed, shifting her weight nervously. "I'm sorry. I'm just busy." The truth was, Luke didn't often let her out of the house except to go to the store or to work. He had always been controlling, but it had especially reared its head the past few years of their marriage.

"Yeah," Addison jumped to her rescue. She was the only one that knew the truth as to why she had become so isolated, and she was quick to protect her friend. "Don't take it personally, Wilson. But I'll still go out with you."

"Come on, Callie? Please?" Jo pressed stubbornly. She knew the younger woman meant well, but the pressure was starting to make her feel a little sick. "Just a few drinks, for an hour or so? I'll buy?"

"I can't drink," Callie finally blurted out, desperate to shut her up. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, ensuring none of the nosey citizens of Sweetwine were eavesdropping, and lowered her voice. "I'm… pregnant. Okay?"

Jo's eyes lit up. "Oh!" Her face morphed into a warm smile, and Callie braced herself for the well wishes and joy she knew was coming. "Why didn't you just say so? Congratulations!"

Callie waved her off, the happiness in her face and voice making her stomach twist. She sorely wished she could be that excited for her own baby. "It's not a big deal."

"Are you kidding me? It's a huge deal! Your first ever baby," her eyes shined. "I can't wait to have my own. Have you thought about names yet? How far along—"

"Jo, you've got customers at table eight," Addison interrupted her, and Jo pouted a bit.

"We'll finish this conversation later. I wanna know everything," she vowed to Callie, before rushing to take care of her table.

The Latina dropped her face in her hands and rubbed her temples, feeling a headache forming. "Thanks, Addie," she mumbled, and the redhead shot her a sympathetic smile.

"She means well. But, Jesus, she can be simple." Callie laughed quietly in agreement and stifled a yawn. "Want me to make you a cup of coffee?"

"Can't, but thanks for offering. It's on the bad food list."

Addison smirked. "Y'know, you take pretty good care of that baby for claiming not to care."

Brown eyes rolled, and she unstacked and restacked a pyramid of to go cups, tidying it up. "I just don't want my doctor to be mad at me."

"Mhm," a skeptical brow raised. "Have you written your dear baby letter yet?"

"Hmm?" Callie's brows furrowed in confusion, before she remembered the book Addison had gifted her weeks ago. "Oh. Yeah. I started on it." She was lying.

Addison laughed. "You sure? Considering it's still up on the cookbook shelf. I think it has dust on it now."

Callie rolled her eyes and flushed a little, embarrassed that she had so easily been caught. "That probably means someone's not cleaning the kitchen good enough, huh?" She quipped, and green eyes narrowed at her. "I really don't know what to write, Ads."

"You just have to start it. That's the easy part. Dear Peanut…"

"Why did you settle on peanut of all nicknames?" Callie whined, walking side by side her friend as they refilled bottles of sticky syrup for the tables. "It's ugly. Besides, they're bigger now. They're the size of a strawberry this week."

"How do you even know somethin' like that?"

Callie paled, a bit flustered. "I read it in a pamphlet." Another lie. Arizona had told her over the phone last night.

Green eyes watched her suspiciously. Her friend was acting… strange, but she couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was the pregnancy brain. Deciding to drop it for now, "Okay. Have you thought any more about entering the contest?"

At that, Callie smiled, warm eyes glowing. "Yeah. I'm doing it," she said with a firm nod of her head, mind made up. "I've got about twenty-five bucks saved up now, and I don't think Luke will find it, so as long as I can scrap up the rest by December I should make it."

Addison grinned, pride spreading through her. "You're going to win."

Callie's head shook, humble as ever. "I don't know. I sure hope so. I've gotta think of something really special."

"You will, Cal, everything you make is special."

"Don't flatter me." The sharp snapping of fingers across the diner pulled them out of their conversation, and Addison rolled her eyes sharply at the rude customer before starting towards them.

"Fix your face, Red," Mark warned, passing off a plate of Belgian waffles to her to deliver.

"Shut up," Addison hissed venomously to her boss, before plastering on a smile so fake it could have been spotted twenty miles away. It made Callie laugh. Somehow, she always made her feel a little better.

She tightened the ribbon in her hair and began checking on her customers, refilling Cokes and asking about days and baring her white teeth in a dazzling smile. She even smiled and batted her eyes at the men at table two, with wandering gazes and touchy hands, and swallowed the bile in her throat when they made unwelcome comments about her ass. Normally she wouldn't have stood for it, but she really, really needed the tips, so she kept that stupid, demure smile on her face and pretended it wasn't happening.

When she returned to check on them five minutes later, their table was abandoned, plates scraped clean, and a phone number lazily scribbled on the $32 bill. No money in sight. They had skipped out on paying, and the steadily rising frustration in her finally snapped.

She knew the unpaid bill was coming out of her check. It was just how it worked. They had all been the unlucky victims of dine and dashers at some point, but fuck, this was the last thing she needed right now.

She cleared the table loudly, angrily, slamming plates against one another with shaking hands. Why couldn't she ever catch a break? Customers turned their heads to look at the commotion, but she didn't care. Why should she care? She smiled and served these people day after day after day and she was sick of it, sick of all of it.

"Cal," a low voice beside her said, reaching out to still her shaking hands. It was Mark. "Why don't you take the rest of the day?"

It was only then that she noticed that hot, frustrated, angry tears were rolling down her cheeks. She shook her head, continuing to clear away the table. "I need the hours."

"I said," Mark pressed on, voice quieter than usual to keep from causing more of a scene, and maybe to spare Callie's feelings, too. He cared about his workers, deep down, even if he wasn't great at showing it. "Take the day. That's an order. Let one of the other girls clean this up."

Callie's lower lip wobbled. She was reaching her breaking point, and fast. "I don't really have anywhere to go."

"Find somewhere. Get yourself together. And I'll see you bright and early tomorrow," he gave her an awkward pat on the back before signaling to Jo to take over, and the brunette readily did so, watching her older friend with wide, concerned eyes.

Callie ignored the looks she was getting and kept her head down, trying her hardest to keep herself together. She was exhausted and overworked and so scared, all of the time, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could handle it. She gathered her things and left the diner before anyone could say another word to her, worried that a single word would strip the remaining strength out of her tired body.

She walked in a daze, on autopilot, toward the bus stop, unsure of where to go. Luke would be home, she was sure, but she couldn't face him, not like this. Every other person in her lonely little life was still back at the diner.

All except one.

Her favorite one.

"Your baby boy looks absolutely perfect, Mrs. Wright," Arizona assured kindly, peeling off her gloves as she finished up her final check-up of the day. "Just under two months until you hold him in your arms. Call me if you think of any more questions, okay?" She dimpled at her patient and handed her a stack of papers. "Teddy will confirm your appointment out front."

It was just after 5 and the clinic was closing up for the night. Arizona had promised her mom to stop by the house for dinner, but she was pretty certain she wouldn't end up staying for more than an hour or two at most. She couldn't wait to just curl up on her couch with a glass of wine and a book and wait for her nightly call, the highlight of her day.

After making a few final notes in her patient's charts, she pulled her cardigan out of her locker and pulled it on over her shoulders. October had brought a slight cool front—nothing too dramatic, but the blonde got a bit chilly during the evenings now. She grabbed her keys and her purse and made a beeline for the back door. "Night, April," she called to her nurse from over her shoulder.

Just as her hand encircled a cold knob, a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. "It's not an emergency."

"I'm so sorry, ma'am, but Dr. Robbins doesn't take walk-ins unless it's an emergency. Would you like me to set up an appointment for you?" Teddy explained gently, watching the patient in question from behind her glasses.

It was Callie. And it was obvious she had been crying. Arizona's stomach dropped, fearing the worst. "Mrs. Moore?" She interrupted the pair, thankfully remembering to use a professional name. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," Callie's voice cracked, and she rolled her shoulders back. "I'm sorry for intruding, Dr. Robbins, I was just hoping you could squeeze me in."

"I'm so sorry," Teddy began to explain. "The clinic actually closes at—"

"It's okay," Arizona quickly assured her receptionist. "Let her back, Teddy, it's okay. Of course we can fit you in. Just follow me." She cleared her throat quietly and lead Callie to an examination room, eyebrows furrowing once the door closed and they were alone.

She turned to look at her, eyes soft and worried, the professional mask falling. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Callie said softly, shaking her head. "Really, nothing, don't start fussing over me. It was just a bad day."

"You were crying," Arizona whispered, reaching out to cradle her tan face gently. She swiped her thumb over the apple of her cheek. "Talk to me, Calliope."

She exhaled. Those tender hands could calm her down every single time, somehow. "I'm scared you'll think of me differently."

Arizona almost laughed. Almost. Because it was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. Callie could have outright shot her and she'd probably still look at her the same, all moon-eyed and dopey. "It's me, Callie."

"I know," she sighed softly, those simple words enough to reassure her. "Everyone I've told about, you know, the baby… they're so excited. So happy. And I'm just not." She crinkled her nose, remembering the way Jo's eyes had positively lit up. "They're talking about picking out names and writing letters and I'm just not there yet, and I'm scared I never will be."

Arizona tilted her head and listened close, hands playing with thick black hair absentmindedly, a hundred percent of her attention going to focusing on Callie. "Is your husband excited?"

"What?" Callie asked, surprised.

"Luke…" Arizona said sheepishly. That name falling from those lips made Callie's chest hurt. "Is he excited?"

"I haven't told him yet."

"Oh." A beat of silence. "Do you think he'll be excited?"

"I don't know. It's hard to tell with him."

"Oh," she chewed on her lower lip. "I bet he will be. Anyone would be happy to have a child with you."

A humorless laugh fell from Callie's lips. God, if Arizona only knew. "Luke's not just anyone." The words sounded like a compliment, but they weren't. Not at all. But Arizona's hand stilled in Callie's hair momentarily and she went quiet.

Callie broke the silence a few minutes later. "I guess I just feel really… disconnected from this baby. And I'm scared I won't be able to love them." Finally saying the words out loud made the Latina's eyes water, and Arizona frowned immediately.

"Hey," she whispered softly, pressing their foreheads together for a second. "Callie, you are the most loving person I've ever met. Ever. You used to rescue ladybugs on the playground. And you cried harder during The Land Before Time than anyone I've ever met."

A shaky laugh. "I felt bad for the dinosaurs."

"Exactly. You felt bad for the dinosaurs. Who does that?" She smiled sweetly, gently touching their noses together before pulling back. "You have a huge heart. Sometimes I think it's too big for your body. I promise you won't have any problem loving this baby." She paused, an idea popping into her head. "Would you… would you wanna hear the heartbeat?"

"My baby's heartbeat?" She hesitated, thinking it over, before slowly nodding her head. "I, um, I guess so."

"Lay back," Arizona instructed her quietly, grateful she had agreed without resistance, and motioned for her to pull up her dress a bit. She squeezed a warm gel onto her abdomen and began carefully sliding the transducer around, indigo eyes locked to the screen in front of her. Callie's nerves dissipated completely when Arizona's dimples appeared suddenly. "Oh, they're cute!" Arizona insisted, smiling warmly. "Cutest fetus I've ever seen, I think."

Callie let out a quiet laugh and rolled her eyes. "Shut up. I bet they all look like chewed up gum." She reached for Arizona's free hand subconsciously after the blonde tilted the screen toward Callie to look, nervous to actually see the child growing inside of her for the first time.

She was surprised when she felt her heart soften. She tightened her grip on the blonde's fingers and blinked a few times, confused as to why she felt like crying. Not in a sad way, either. "That's my baby."

"That's your baby," Arizona beamed.

"Their heart is beating so fast."

"That's normal. They're just excited to meet mama."

Callie smiled. "They are kind of cute."

"I told you. I'm not a liar, Calliope," she giggled quietly, giving Callie a few moments to stare sweetly at the monitor in front of her. "You should see your face. Looks like a loving mother to me."

Callie blushed, tearing her eyes away from the screen and finally letting go of her hand. "Thank you," she whispered.

Arizona crinkled her nose gently and helped wipe the gel off of her stomach. "Don't thank me. Did it help a little bit?"

The Latina pulled her dress back down, watching the shorter woman with warm eyes as she cleaned up the small examination room. "It helped a lot."

"Good. That's what I'm here for." The blonde grinned kindly at her lover, and it melted into a dumb, happy smile when Callie pulled on her wrists, tugging her closer to plant a gentle kiss on her mouth. She hummed against plump lips, and before she could stop herself, her next words were tumbling out. "Are you busy?"

Callie was surprised, primarily because her answer was, for the first time in years, no. Luke wouldn't be expecting her for another six hours, when her shift was supposed to let out. "Depends," the brunette teased, holding Arizona's hips in her hands almost possessively.

Arizona dimpled. "Sounds like a no to me. Come to dinner with me."

"Dinner?"

"Uh-huh," blonde curls bobbed. "At my parent's house. I'm supposed to be there in twenty minutes."

"Oh," Callie's cheeks flushed. She hadn't seen either of the Robbins in years, and the thought of seeing the people she had once considered family made her jittery with nerves. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Please?" Blue eyes shined. "Just… as friends, y'know. They'd love to see you. They miss you." And I really, really want to spend more time with you.

Callie sighed quietly and shook her head and grinned because, god, her soft spot for this woman would never go away, would it? "Okay. But only for your mom's cooking. Why didn't you inherit any of that talent?"

Arizona giggled and bounced excitedly, and the sound of her laughter wrapped its way around the ventricles of Callie's heart, squeezing it in a way that made her feel safe and content and warm and home.

Yeah.

It was never, ever going away.