"Is she going to kill me?" she asks her. "I feel like she's going to kill me."

She hears a groan in response and looks to the dark hair pillowed on her lap. Amelia had just fallen asleep to her humming, answering her questions with only slight groans and nods. She turns her head now, and looks up at the blonde, and Arizona looks into her sleepy, peaceful eyes. She reaches down to brush the hair from her forehead.

Her voice is groggy and sleepy, as if already tired from the inquiries. She is quick to reassure. "She's not going to kill you."

"I'm dating her sister," Arizona tells her. "She's going to kill me."

Amelia scoffs at her, and sits up, lying down next to her on the bed. "That's technically Meredith's line."

"They're both your sisters," Arizona clarifies, "but Meredith is calmer. And nicer," she explains. She remembers the moments she shared with the broody blonde, and considers the brief instances in which she knew Addison. Professionally, they acknowledged each other. Personally, she only knew Addison from what Callie told her, and what Mark used to tell her. But now?

"I don't really know Addison, just that she was close with Callie and Mark and-"

Amelia interjects, her voice soothing and confident, as though she already knows. "You'll be fine, Addie's fine."

"Can I call her that?"

"What?"

"Addie."

Amelia chuckles and turns on her side to look at Arizona. "No," she considers. "I don't think she's that comfortable with you yet."

"See! She doesn't like me!"

"Okay, chill," Amelia says, sitting up now, and grabbing her shoulders. She is teasing again, and nonchalant. "You need to chill. Deep breaths," she says, slowly, playfully. Arizona feels her tuck strands of hair behind her ear. "We're not getting married here."

Arizona considers this. She remembers the calm she used to have. "I was very chill for my wedding, actually."

Though she only begins to make a point, she watches as Amelia frowns, immediately dropping her hands from her shoulders. "Okay, well, whatever," she shrugs, and it makes Arizona wonder. She runs a hand through her hair and sits back to look at Arizona, who only watches as she collects herself. She grins, finally. "Who could not like you?"

"What was that just now?"

"What?" Amelia asks.

"The wedding."

She watches as Amelia grows flustered, as she considers her thoughts, and watches her gaze wanders before falling back on Arizona. "A little jealous, I guess. I forget, sometimes," she says, "that you were married."

She waits before she replies, and her gaze wanders, as well. Her marriage is an afterthought now, she thinks, much like most things in the past, and what is really here now, is this. The boxes littering her new apartment. Her lazily set up room, the walls white, half-painted, and mostly vacant and waiting to be altered, to be decorated. Waiting to be established. Stagnant only because she'd much rather be kissing Amelia.

Everything is new, and rich, and real.

"I'm not chill now," Arizona explains, "because Addison is important to you, and I want her to like me."

She leans into Amelia and kisses her softly on the lips. Amelia smiles into the kiss and pushes herself closer to the blonde. "Well," she murmurs against her lips, "I already like you, no problems there."

She feels Amelia push her back onto the bed, kissing her hard and roughly, as though she is trying to slip away. She feels the tension in her lips, in her body's movement against her own, and it makes her wonder if she is still bothered, if she is trying to win something that should not even be compared.

Arizona sits up as Amelia kisses her harder, and she gets lost in her mouth, in the feeling of her tongue against her own. The brunette seems distracted, frantic, and it gives Arizona enough energy to flip her around and push her against the bed.

They pull back, needing to breathe, needing to catch up, and Arizona peers down at Amelia, who struggles to catch her breath, who is also looking up at her.

"I…" Amelia murmurs, but seems to hesitate and draws her eyes away from Arizona. Her cheeks turn seemingly a shade darker - turned on, she knows, but embarrassed, almost.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Say it."

"Stop it!" Amelia protests, attempting to push herself up. Her body weight feels useless against the blonde's though, and Arizona easily pushes her back down. She takes Amelia's two wrists with her hands and shoves them on the bed, beside her head. "You know what I'm going to say!" Amelia continues.

"I want you to say it," she says, pinning her against the bed.

"Why are you so strong?"

"Say it!"

"You already know."

"I want to hear it."

"I love fucking you."

"You love fucking me?"

"Yes," Amelia says.

She was sure she was going to admit something else, something deeper than that, something that omits the fuck and leaves the rest, but she knows that maybe she isn't there yet, maybe it will take a long time to get there, and she isn't even sure that she's there yet, though she's sure that she wants her.

She giggles at Amelia's confession and watches as the brunette beneath her grumbles angrily.

She kisses her on the forehead and it's just as sweet.

Amelia is leaning on her when Addison walks in, and she resists the temptation to shrug her off. Amelia's weight is perfect against her, and delicate, and almost everything she needs in this moment. But Amelia ends up detaching herself, anyway, and jumps up to embrace Addison, who, from the look of her eyes, is displeased.

She embraces her, and Arizona stands up and approaches her and stretches her hand out, as though it is their first meeting. But Amelia counters, and takes her offered hand, linking it with her own, and falling back to her side, to her shoulder, kissing her on the cheek affectionately.

Watching the theatrical gesture, Addison manages a half-smile before she begins. "Do we really need the girlfriend thing happening during introductions?"

Amelia seems exasperated by her comment, and Arizona feels as she pulls her arm close to her, as if in defense. "The girlfriend thing is all the time, Addie."

"Professionally, it isn't," Addison remarks. "You all know this."

The hospital's policy flashes through Arizona's mind, and she almost backs away from embarrassment, but Amelia decides to quickly retort. "Well, we've all met. Formalities are-"

"Not exactly as a trio," Arizona corrects, in an attempt at professionalism.

"We're not a trio," Addison clarifies. The tone of her voice sends a jolt through Arizona. It's stiff and unwelcoming. "Formalities are necessary."

"Please," Amelia scoffs in disbelief. "We all know the dirt on you, Addie." Arizona wants to add that's it true, that she does know, and remembers the drama she heard about before she arrived. But she holds her tongue.

"Anyway," Addison continues, turning her attention to Arizona. Her heels seem to accentuate her height, and the blonde feels the intimidation she often felt from Herman during their first encounters. "I'll be … ushering you around for a few weeks. Your fellowship has certainly ended, but as a favor to Doctor Herman," she regards, "I will be assisting you in the procedures you had the least practice with."

"Great," Arizona says. "I look forward to working with you!"

Amelia lets go of her arm as Addison nods at her in agreement, and as the redhead departs the room, she shuts the door and turns to Arizona.

"Okay," Amelia acquiesces, "It'll go better than that. I promise."

"Really?"

"Yes," the brunette convinces her. "My declaration of admiration is only the first step!"

"What other steps are there?" Arizona groans. "Isn't she supposed to be a mentor?"

"Yes, but a sister, too."

"I feel like I'm meeting the in-laws."

She wonders why Addison has decided to observe her practices. Their specialities were interdisciplinary, certainly, but it is also true that specialties are specialties for their own reasons. There are methodologies that she has adapted and implemented into her own surgical skills that stem from Pediatrics, and Herman, and what she's learned. But she's aware that she can also learn methods from Addison - practical ones, and original ones, and things that might help her foster even further as a surgeon.

Yet it still rouses her, because it is Addison. Because of the place Addison holds. She is so far removed from her life, yet inexplicably close.

She's some other part of Amelia she doesn't know.

The thought makes her pace around the lounge as she waits for Addison's consultation.

Her fellowship is done.

She cried when Herman woke up alive. She cried because Herman couldn't see, because she'd never really see again, though she began to see something new just then, and Arizona couldn't see it the way she did. She wanted her to be there and she wanted her to live, because she could show her things that she'd never really be able to see.

"I'm fine, I'm alive," she told her.

There are things she could still do. Things she could still learn.

She said something to her. Told her she was blind again. Tried to suggest that she may as well have been misguided from that point on. But Herman berated her in the same fashion.

"You're always to the left of the point, Robbins."

She wondered what it meant then. She still doesn't.

"I know."

"Your girlfriend did fine."

Her voice was choked. "I know she did." The words caught in her throat.

"Stop crying."

"I'm not crying," she lied.

But Nicole could always see through her. Even now. "I'm blind, Robbins," Herman pointed out. "Not deaf."

She had to laugh, then. Laugh at the relief. At the anxiety. At what was to come.

"I picked the right horse."

"Please don't call me a horse," Arizona cried.

She took her hand. It felt soft in her own. "I think you did, too."

"What?" Arizona asked.

"Picked the right horse."

But Herman is gone now, having joined the Blind Institute to further herself. Arizona tries to keep in touch, via texting, sometimes calling. She feels lighter. She is glad that she is alive. The significance of Nicole Herman will always stick with her. It will always show her that life is worth living, worth furthering, worth taking risks for.

And now Addison has begun, during her brief stay in Seattle, to fill the partial gaps that Herman left in her teachings, despite having not really left anything empty at all.

"You worry me," she hears, "pacing like that."

She sees her girlfriend standing at the door with her arms crossed, and laughs at the sight of it, at the repetitious nature of their affairs. She is beginning to love the cycle of it, beginning to love the way Amelia stands at the door with her arms crossed and that amused look on her face. She will never tire of it.

"You should leave before Addison comes."

"She shouldn't be peeved that I'm always here."

"Amelia," Arizona warns.

"I have a break and I want to see my girlfriend."

"I'm waiting for a consult."

"What about a quick bang?"

"Amelia!"

"Fine," she smirks, and turns to leave just as Addison arrives. The redhead only arches a brow, and moves aside to let her pass.

"See you later, Addie," she tells her.

Addison turns her attention to Arizona, and the blonde can almost see the thought in her eyes, the wonder of what they might have been doing before she arrived, but she seems to push the thought aside as she turns her gaze to the charts in her hand.

"So Collin's chart looks good," she notes. "As does the procedure."

"And you will assist?"

"Yes," Addison affirms, scanning her with her eyes, as though she is hiding something.

"Well, I will-" Arizona starts.

"You seem good, though," Addison tells her.

"What?"

"In your procedures. Herman has told me a lot about what you've done."

"She inspired me."

"You've inspired her, too," the taller woman notes. "You seem to inspire many people."

The claim shakes something in Arizona, but she lets herself smile. She knows it comes out awkward, as though Addison is trying to unnerve her.

"I hope my relationship with Amelia isn't a problem," she decides to say. She watches as Addison's eyes widen, as she lets an awkward laugh out before settling down.

"No," Addison says. "I'm not here for that."

Sometimes Amelia grabs her hand in the hallway, in the middle of walking, in the middle of her speaking to Addison. She does it as though she is trying to frustrate her, or perhaps make a point to Addison that Arizona has not been confronted with.

Sometimes she watches them speaking down the hallway and she can see the frustration on Amelia's face, and she can almost hear her tone as she berates Addison for something. And so, as if to retaliate, Amelia takes her hand, but she brushes it away to preserve her professionality.

She never did that with Callie, either.

She knows it's against the rules. To an extent, anyway.

But then... she begins to take her hand. Because she wants to feel her.

And Addison doesn't say anything, she doesn't glare, she doesn't stare, she does nothing.

Arizona wonders if it's approval.

"How are things with Addison?" April asks her, tracing the rim of her coffee cup as Arizona pours a cup for herself.

"What?" Arizona asks. "What have you heard?"

"Everyone says that she's here to assess you."

"Under Herman's recommendation," Arizona adds. "Our specialities are not totally matched. She just wants me to practice a more concise procedure that Addison is more familiar with."

"I meant about Amelia."

Arizona turns around to look at her best friend, her eyes surprised. Everyone seems to know but her. "Amelia?"

"You think that's why she's here for so long?" April considers.

"It's just a few weeks."

April seems to take her mind off it, though, and tells her about Jackson, about her own grief.

And then she takes to the OR with Addison, and stares at the woman's eyes, eyes that always seem to avoid her own, eyes that are in contemplation, assessing, yet not really looking. And she knows that Addison is a looker.

The renowned OB doesn't do much to help, but she watches Arizona attentively, intently, as though she is the teacher and Addison the student.

"Funny," Addison starts, looming over the body in front of them.

"Hmm?"

"We're always doing this," she notes. "Always taking care of mothers and their babies," she continues, "but when we're the mothers, we're just as lost."

"What do you mean?"

She meets her eyes now, and they seem friendly enough. More inquiring. More trusting.

"Henry's at the age where he's constantly throwing tantrums," she tells her. "Every night since I've been here, Jake has tried to get him on the phone, but he refuses to say anything!" she exclaims. "He's just so upset."

She thinks about it for a moment. Thinks about the absence, the distance.

"I get that," Arizona says. "Sofia hates when I'm not home. She's still confused by everything. But she's adjusting. She doesn't question it anymore."

"Does it bother you?" Addison asks. "When she does ask?"

"A little bit. I don't want her to realize just yet that relationships sometimes…" she says, and considers Callie for a moment, considers Addison's bond with her, a history that she is entirely removed from, "don't work out."

"How will you explain it?"

Arizona smiles through her mask.

"No!"

"No?"

"No!"

"What about this one?" Amelia asked the child, presenting to her a small Gorilla that seemed to be surprisingly, the size of her head.

Sofia considered the animal in the woman's hands, attempting to stretch out of her tiny car seat to survey the fluffy creature.

"Maybe," the child said.

"Your mama picked it," Amelia noted.

Not shifting her eyes from the road, Arizona snorted at her confession. She could see her, barely, but mostly just her hair, that curtain of brown that often covered her face at night. Amelia was stretching from her passenger seat to show Sofia the various toys they had bought that day. A stop at the mall after work.

It was the first time she had come with her to pick up Sofia from school.

"Mama did?"

"Mama did!" Amelia exclaimed.

"What about Amy?" Sofia asked.

"Me?"

"Amy got toys?"

"Well, a couple for your mommy. But I got a bunch for you."

Sofia did not consider this, though.

"None for you?" she asked.

"No," Amelia said. "None!"

"Sofia buy Amy a toy, too!"

"Really!?"

"Really!"

Arizona laughed at their excitement, at their bonding over toys, at their promise to exchange gifts.

She'd definitely buy her one, too.

"I don't know," she considers. She watches as Addison waits for an answer, but her eyes fall again, to the patient in front of her. "But Amelia helps."

Callie and Mark were the only things Arizona thought she had in common with Addison, but she is beginning to realize that it's not true, that maybe it was never true. They're both mothers, they're similar in some ways - resilient and definitive in their professions.

And so she decides to approach her, even if she is laughing with Callie over coffee. She walks over to the nurses' station and greets them happily.

"Hey!" she exclaims.

Callie stops for a moment, but smiles anyway. There is some kind of tension. Sometimes. She wonders what they talk about.

"Hey," Addison greets. Her tone seems to reveal hesitance, perhaps around Callie. And yet Callie seems unnerved.

"I was wondering if you'd like to have lunch together, Doctor Montgomery. I'd like to discuss some of the more intensive procedures with you."

"Of course," Addison agrees.

"You're free to come too, Callie," Arizona offers.

"Oh, no," Callie says. "I've got a surgery. Maybe later?"

"Sure."

Arizona watches as Callie takes her leave, as Addison inquires about drinks later before turning to her.

"That seemed easy for you," Addison notes. Another assessment of character, Arizona thinks.

"That's questionable," Arizona says. "Hard to say it's easy."

"I think I could understand."

Their lunch is less strenuous, and they mostly discuss procedures. Arizona feels tension in her head, her voice, as if preparing herself for what comes next. The discussion is over faster than she anticipates, and she no longer has anything to say.

She was always good at small talk. But this is Amelia's sister, isn't it?

"So, how long have you known Doctor Herman?" Arizona inquires.

"Oh, I've known her for quite some time. She mentored me in some ways, too. I wasn't surprised when she told me that she picked you as her fellow."

"Really?"

Addison smiles. "You seem surprised."

She feels a squeeze on her shoulder as a tray is placed on top of their table, and Amelia gleefully takes a seat next to Arizona, almost announcing herself as she sits with a thud. She seems to ignore Addison for a moment, and turns her attention to Arizona.

"Done with moving yet?"

"Half done."

"Want me to come over later?"

"That would help," she says. Or not, she thinks, remembering how they get when they're together.

Addison bites on a potato chip slowly and watches the two, her eyes narrowing, as if attempting to gauge them. Arizona looks back at her.

"So," Arizona begins, "How's the McDreamy palace treating you?"

Addison looks surprised for a moment, and she watches as her lips widen to a smile before the redhead laughs loudly. "Oh, no, no," she laughs. "I'm staying at a hotel."

"But isn't Amelia-"

"You really think she'd stay at her ex-husband's house just cause I'm there?"

"Oh," Arizona murmurs, "that's true."

"Hotel prices are rising, though," the redhead tells her. "The practice has been a little slow lately, and I've been taking a lot of time off. Maybe it was better to ask. But that would have been awkward."

She says it before she thinks it. It seems a vaguely good idea.

"Well, if you want, you can stay at my place," Arizona offers.

"What?" she hears - two voices in unison.

"What?" she echoes, as though she hadn't heard.

"No, no," Amelia protests. "A hotel is fine for Addie."

"Actually," Addison considers. "That's not a bad idea. I'll stay. It's only for what, two weeks?"

"Seriously?" Amelia asks. She looks over to Arizona, and the blonde meets her eyes. She seems surprised, and Arizona feels as she taps her foot against her own.

"Why not?" Arizona asks.

"Perfect," Addison remarks. "Amy, you can help me move my stuff tonight, then."

"What the hell is in this suitcase?" she hears at the door.

Her girlfriend is loud and annoying and often has tantrums, she realizes, when she's frustrated and doesn't get her way.

Then again, Amelia calls her pouty.

The door opens without much of her help, and anyway, she is too busy preparing dinner to notice. She turns off the stove as the two enter, and she hears a thud on the floor, as a suitcase is dropped. Amelia hurries over to Arizona, peering over the stove before greeting her.

"You made curry?"

"I thought it would be good."

"We're going to be up all night."

"It's not too spicy."

She turns to the door as Addison closes it, and the redhead stands there for a moment, slightly unnerved but bold, nonetheless.

"Hi Doctor Montgomery."

"Addison is fine, you know."

"Right," Arizona laughs, and leads her to the guest room.

Addison skips dinner, though, and they don't hear from her for the rest of the night. The redhead seems withdrawn to her room, and Arizona spends the rest of the night in her own with Amelia.

The days seem stale, uneventful, though often sprung with surgeries. Addison observes, inquires, sometimes leaving to take on her own. Access is granted by Hunt, who still follows Webber mostly, and Addison is rarely seen.

Dinner is refused, so Arizona stops cooking. They opt for take-out nowadays - Amelia's suggestion. Sometimes she catches her in the morning, offering cereal instead. Addison goes for breakfast with Callie.

Arizona stops, finally. She realizes that she cannot make the guest feel like less of an intruder, so she sees her at work, sometimes with Amelia at night. They get along well enough, exchanging small talk, sometimes jokes. Jokes about the profession.

On the last night, they arrive at the apartment together, having completed an extensive and collaborative surgery, alternating when necessary. She's sure Addison is tired of her face now, so she plops down onto her couch and leans back.

Fatigue overwhelms her surprise as Addison plops down next to her, leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

"That was long," the redhead groans.

"That was," Arizona agrees. "I'm beat."

Silence follows. Arizona's eyelids grow heavy. There is no movement on either side.

"So," Addison considers, after a moment, "should we just… sit here, then?"

Arizona's eyes droop again, but she blinks to wake herself up. She wonders if Amelia will come. "I can cook."

"I'm fine with take-out," the redhead insists, "you don't need to cater for me. This is already enough."

She only nods, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket. She reads the apology on her screen.

"Oh," Arizona says, "Amy's not coming tonight."

"Why?"

"Surgery."

"Oh."

Addison's tone shakes something in her. It's the disinterest, the questionable acknowledgement that makes her say it.

"I adore her, you know," Arizona tells her. "She's my girlfriend."

Addison waits, but she says nothing else, and she can feel as the taller woman sits up.

"Why are you so intent on getting my approval?"

"I was, at first. Amelia wasn't. But then she was. It worried me. I wondered why. And then I realized that you're important to her," Arizona explains. "That means something to me."

Addison considers her words. There is silence between their exchange.

"She's been through things," Addison starts, "I don't know if she's told you, but she's been through some horrible things and," she says, her words selective as she utters them, "I just want her to be okay."

She sits up now, and looks at her. Addison is looking right back at her, her narrowed eyes laced with concern.

"I want her to be okay, Arizona," Addison continues. "I watched her grow up. She's my sister."

"I know," she says, softly. Truly. "I won't hurt her like that."

"You won't?"

"I want to protect her."

Addison smiles. She alleviates something now.

"And you will."

"Yeah?" Arizona asks.

"I'm sure of it," Addison tells her. "Now I'm craving Chinese."

She is not one to pounce, not usually, or perhaps not lately, because something like that has surely diminished through time. But when she sees Amelia, Amelia in only her panties, bending over to search through one of her boxes to find a pot, or perhaps a pan, or whatever it was she meant to search for, she is unaware of her movements before they happen.

Amelia seems startled when Arizona brushes her hand against her ass, her finger tracing the elastic of her underwear. She turns around, or at least tries to, but Arizona pushes her down against the box, causing her to tumble on the floor. Her weight pushes the box away, and it tips over, causing the numerous pots and pans to tumble out, and her head slowly touches the carpet, shielded briefly by Arizona's hand.

"What are-" Amelia tries to say, but Arizona silences her, kissing her roughly, hotly against the mouth. Her tongue slips into Amelia's mouth before the other has time to breathe, and she can feel the woman trembling under her touch already.

This time, it's better. Addison's presence was nice, but now that she's left, she can have Amelia anywhere again. Even though Arizona was the one who protested having sex while Addison was there, she becomes someone else when alone. Something gets unraveled. It comes from Amelia.

It comes from Amelia's trembling reaction as she runs her fingernails down her ribcage.

"I just showered," Amelia breathes out.

"You can shower again."

Her fingers run against her skin and trace the elastic of her underwear. Arizona opts to playing with the fabric, teasing her with her lips instead. She kisses her softly, pulling away when she draws closer.

"Stop," Amelia protests.

"Should I?"

"I meant fuck me already."

"Should I?" she asks again, slyly.

"Arizona," Amelia murmurs. "Please kiss me."

She does, she kisses her. The feeling is warm, her lips are warm and soft and all she knows in this moment, though her fingers trace her skin, though her hand slips into her underwear, tracing the heat of her efforts, of her wants.

Amelia doesn't have to ask, because she doesn't want to wait, so she slips a finger into her, and feels her warmth against her, the way she grips her tightly, taking her in slowly and with desire. It makes Amelia gasp out.

"Fuck," she moans.

As though in response, Arizona slides another finger into her, slipping deeper and harder, pulling Amelia's leg up for more leverage.

She slides out slowly, thrusting hard when Amelia complains, but mostly slowly to feel her, to feel her clenching around her fingers, asking for more, not wanting her to leave yet. She fills her deeply, she thinks, just as she does to her, and it makes her thrust harder, it makes her desire something more.

She finds herself swaying with Amelia, pushing her hard against the carpet as she moves her hips with each thrust, making the brunette moan loudly. She's glad she's gotten an apartment. She feels Amelia's walls begin to tighten, and as she comes, she feels herself deep inside of her.

When they catch their breath, Arizona doesn't remove her fingers from her. Instead, she falls beside her, pressing her forehead against her cheek. She feels the sweat on Amelia's face and smiles.

"You jumped me," Amelia says, in between breaths.

"You liked it."

"I did."

Arizona slips out of her as they catch their breath and she hears Amelia's stomach rumble.

She laughs. "I'll go pick up some food for us."

She is stopped as she begins to move, and Amelia's hand pulls her back next to her. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"Why?"

"You might slip away from me," she tells her, and Arizona feels the grip on her hand grow tighter as Amelia continues. "I don't want you away from me."

"We should probably get up from the floor, though."

Amelia smiles, looking sleepy, her eyes half-closed, and bright and affectionate.

"No one is going to come," Amelia tells her. "It's just you and me."

She doesn't know when she falls asleep, surrounded by pots and pans and tumbled boxes and a naked Amelia, but she does.

She enjoys waking up next to her.

It's exhilarating.

Sublime.