Amelia Shepherd is not a child, not a teenager, not even in her early twenties anymore. She's a grown up! So she cannot possibly cast aside the feelings she woke with this morning as the effects of a still developing frontal lobe. She's forced to admit that the proverbial butterflies in her stomach are very much there, and very much related to the kiss of a lifetime she had shared with one Arizona Robbins last night. Arizona kissed her. Honestly? Kissing doesn't even begin to describe what Arizona did to her. The way she picked her up and shoved her against that wall… The way she bit down on her lower lip just hard enough to elicit a moan from Amelia's mouth, then soothed it with tiny licks. If she weren't in a rush to get to morning rounds, Amelia would have stayed in bed longer, reminiscing about what transpired last night and even finishing off what they started.
Alas, duty calls. Picking clothes for the day and heading to the bathroom, Amelia starts washing her face when she suddenly notices a glaring reminder of the extent to which she and Arizona were consumed by passion last night. An angry purple hickey where her jumpsuit collar was last night is staring back at her, and her fingers fly up to touch this memento from Arizona. She can't remember the last time she had a hickey on her skin, probably high school? Maybe freshman year of college. But she'd be a liar if she said she hated the sight of it. No, Amelia decided, she adores the sight. She loves the fact Arizona had become so out of control that she left her with this mark, and the bratty juvenile part of her even wishes she had given Arizona one too. That would show Callie.
Damnit, , who came to the bar with Arizona and left with her too. Callie, Dr. Torres really, who's Amelia's superior. Callie, who's actually a pretty kickass surgeon and a great person, jealousy aside. Shit. They need to talk. Amelia's been blamed before (and not once) for overthinking things, for talking them over to death, for always needing to know where she stands. Well, call it her fatal flaw, what can she do. She and Arizona need to talk about what this all means.
She's not even sure what she wants it to mean, which is probably part of the problem. Having these… feelings for women, for this particular woman, is another deviation from the norm to tack on her board of failures to be like everyone else. She's not sure how much more of this her family can take, and she certainly doesn't know how much of it she can take. More of being the odd one out, more of having something that's a little strange, more of needing to have a long sentence to explain who she is. Sure, pansexuality, bisexuality, however you want to name it, is not some unheard of illness or a depravity. She's not a prude, and this isn't news for her that she likes women too. It's just… sometimes she wishes she didn't. Sometimes Amelia wishes that her peculiarities could be summed up by liking spring rolls a little too much and being irrationally scared of rollercoasters. Isn't that enough?
But Arizona Robbins just had to come along. She had to come along, and to strong-arm Amelia into having these feelings for her. Okay, that's probably unfair. Arizona didn't coerce her into this, if anything it's actually the reverse. She was the one who had (albeit inadvertently) molested Arizona that first time in the on-call room, and she was the one who had pressed and pushed last night, did everything in her power to get a rise out of the blonde doctor just so she'd finally have a clear answer as to whether her wild feelings are reciprocated or not.
Arriving at the hospital, in a turtle-neck thank you very much, Amelia puts on her scrubs and embarks on a find Arizona Robbins mission. She needs a conversation, she needs to rant, she needs to know where she stands. Was it a one off or is this the start of something, she has to have the information in order to make a decision. The mission soon proves rather frustrating and hard to accomplish, however, because Amelia swears that every time she catches a glimpse of those iconic blonde locks, they escape her. It doesn't help matters that Amelia keeps being dragged away by the attending whose service she's on today, and that Arizona has freaking wheels at her feet. One time, she even catches Arizona's eye and calls out "Dr. Robbins!" but the elevator doors immediately slide shut. Is she avoiding her? That can't be…
The thing is, Arizona isn't proud of herself. She's not proud to admit she's been leading Amelia on a goosechase all day today. That every time she so much as caught a glimpse of her, she'd wheel away in the opposite direction or slide into a patient's room. She's definitely not proud of pressing the shut-door button of the elevator while Amelia was calling out her name, evidently seeking her attention. But… Well… What could she do? She has no idea what to say about what transpired last night, and so she's determined to put it off as long as possible. Indefinitely, please.
"Dr. Robbins!"
Crap. It appears God, or the universe, and certainly Amelia Shepherd, have other plans for her. She really was sure taking the stairs would save her from this. Pretending to have gone temporarily deaf, she continues her descent quickly, quite literally running away from Amelia.
"I would like to talk about the kissing!"
Well that does is. Come on, Robbins, you've got this. Turning around slowly, she comes face to face with one clearly pissed off Amelia Shepherd.
She may not have this.
"What the hell?" Amelia asks, shaking her head in confusion as her beautiful eyes widen.
"Shepherd-" Arizona starts, gulping, "I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done it."
"W-What?" Amelia seems to be confused, even hurt, and with good reason. But the intention is the opposite, truly, it isn't to hurt her. It's to prevent this thing from snowballing out of control until they both end up in pain.
"Listen, Shepherd-"
"Oh, it's Shepherd now?" Amelia derides, folding her arms in a pose Arizona has already come to learn was meant to defend the young Shepherd from whatever it is that's going to be thrown her way.
"Amelia," Arizona begs, "I need you to understand, I'm a good person, okay? I'm a good person, who doesn't go around anybody's back. And Callie, she's wonderful. She's sweet and understanding, and when I drove her back last night she kept telling me how much she likes me, you know? How much she's enjoying our time together. I can't just turn my back on that. She's a good fit for me, she's my age and she's sure of what she wants, and it's me. She wants me and I think I want her too."
"So what was this all about?" Amelia asks, pushing down the collar of her well placed turtle-neck with her finger.
Confronted with her actions from last night, Arizona is forced to acknowledge that a small and very immature part of her loves this. Loves loves loves seeing Amelia's soft pale skin adorned with the mark she had left it with. Loves seeing Amelia standing there, flustered, wanting answers out of her. It feels like maybe the tables have finally turned. Maybe finally Amelia can realize even a sliver of how distraught Arizona has been because of her these past months, how out of her own mind she has been feeling. 'What was this all about?' This was about Amelia Shepherd being a force of fucking nature; one that's threatening to unravel Arizona just as she came to a point in her life where she finally decided to settle down.
"Listen, Amelia, I realize how confusing this is," Amelia huffs at that, rolling her eyes like the brat that she is. "It's confusing for me too. I don't know what you want out of this, but I know where I stand. I'm a lesbian woman in her thirties, and there is another queer woman in her thirties in this hospital who wants me. Who pursues me, and cares for me, and wants to build something with me. When I ask her what she is or what she wants, she doesn't answer 'I'm just Amelia'."
"But I am!" Amelia snaps, her hands flying out, "I am just Amelia, just me. That should be enough. This-" she gestures between the two of them "should be enough."
"It isn't, honey." Arizona whispers sadly, the endearment slipping out before she catches it. She lowers her head in regret, almost hating herself for not being able to confront Amelia's sad blue eyes. It isn't enough, that's the truth. It's not enough to want secretive sleepovers in the hospital and hidden kisses in the back of the bar. Arizona wants to have it all, and she wants someone who would give that to her.
"Then why have you spent all day avoiding me? What, you were stalling your eventual rejection? Or hoping I'd never bring it up, and just let it go?"
"No, that's not it at all." Arizona replies honestly, and braces herself for the truth train that's left the station without her permission. "Me avoiding you has nothing to do with rejecting you and everything to do with wanting you. I was avoiding you because I need to regain some semblance of control over my feelings. I was avoiding you because when I look at you all I can remember is you moaning 'fuck me' over and over again last night. I was avoiding you because I would have done it if we weren't interrupted."
Amelia's flaring nostrils and darkened eyes are the only proof Arizona has that she in fact did say what she thinks she did. She can't know for certain, since her ears are ringing, but the expression on Amelia's face and the way she wets her lips with the tip of her tongue are a good indicator that her confession rang loud and clear.
"Kiss me." Amelia suddenly says as she advances towards her.
"What?"
"Kiss me, Arizona Robbins, and tell me that this isn't enough."
Not even giving her a chance to think it through, Amelia takes Arizona's face in her palms and brings their lips together. She does the thing. And this is a whole other universe of a kiss from the one they shared last night. This one is soft. It is god damn tender. Amelia kisses her like she's trying to cherish her, treasure her, her thumbs stroking over Arizona's cheeks to encourage her to open her lips. So she does, she opens her lips and lets Amelia's tongue slip inside and lick at hers.
Arizona grabs at Amelia's hips, for stability more than anything else, because this kiss is dizzying and the earth feels as if it's moving a little as Amelia tilts her head to the side to get better leverage. Arizona is actively searching her memory for a kiss that has ever felt like this one, and comes short. Amelia's full lips cover hers again and again, her tongue touching then retreating in a tantalizing tease. Arizona responds in the only way that seems logical to her, and presses at Amelia's hips to push her back against the wall. With yesterday's practice still fresh in both of their minds, Amelia gets the message quickly, and wraps her slim legs around Arizona.
"You're insufferable," Arizona breathes against her lips, then lowers her own to Amelia's long neck.
"Fuck me," Amelia moans in return. As if triggering a Pavlovian response in her, the sound of Amelia's plea drives Arizona to push her turtle-neck aside and start sucking a mirror image of the mark she placed last night on the other side of Amelia's neck. The fingers pulling at her hair and the purring noises coming from the other doctor convince Arizona she has made the right call.
The adrenaline rushing in her ears as she returns to devouring Amelia's mouth must be the reason it takes her a moment to realize they're both being paged to the ER.
"Shit," Amelia groans, slamming her head against the wall and closing her eyes.
"You've got that right," Arizona can only agree, letting the intern slide off her as they both straighten their clothes and hair. "Here," she says, adjusting Amelia's sweater to hide the newly forming mark on her skin. It's alarming how much she's enjoying the sight.
"So…" Amelia trails off in her typical tone, clearly trying to gauge Arizona's next steps.
"We need to get to the ER, Shepherd. And I need time to think."
Not even giving the other doctor time to respond, she descends the few stairs left and rushes out the door. It's time to put her game face on and she cannot be thinking about Amelia fucking Shepherd, or about fucking Amelia Shepherd, when she does it.