Secret Santa Gift for radical618
Title: Giving Up, For You.
Author: alex_kingston
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: R (to be safe)
Word Count: 2, 856
Summary: Inspired by Ingrid Michaelson’s "Giving Up", a song fic of sorts. It's a good kind of giving up :) Arizona wants them to move in together, get a place of their own. Callie’s afraid to destroy the good thing they have but agrees anyway. She doesn’t realize that her fears, her inability to communicate will spin everything out of control.
Disclaimer: I do not own them or the song and I do not make any profits whatsoever and I certainly mean no harm. I am merely borrowing Callie and Arizona for my own gratuitous word play (and on-call room threesomes *slurps*).
Author’s Note: My prompt was "Anything Calzona works! (I'm an angst with happy make up stuff sucker)". So, it’s really not as depressing as it sounds. Everything ends happily of course because Callie and Arizona are meant to be! Thank you to my beta of sorts and my Rock Band "leader" atikk for your ideas and your time :)
Also, I really really apologize for posting this more than 12 hours after the end of Dec 25th. The fic became longer than I expected it to be. Forgive me radical618! I really hope you like your gift:)
Happy Boxing Day!
--
Calliope Iphigenia Torres is happy - mind numbingly happy, nauseatingly happy, bursting at the seams happy. It was bordering on delirious and she was one step away from skipping her way through a meadow to belt out lyrics that begin with “the hills are alive”. In the comfort of Arizona’s arms, in the crook of Arizona’s neck, the scent of Arizona’s sun-kissed hair invading her senses, Callie knows that she could probably start the singing right now.
It is almost puzzling that something as innocuous as lying in her bed with her girlfriend, staring at nothing in particular, could induce an unparalleled high. Her mind goes on overdrive just then, wondering if Arizona’s ability to catapult her to happiness could also mean her ability to inadvertently achieve the reverse. But Callie knows better than to over analyze. She allows herself to bask in the soothing sensation of Arizona’s fingers running its way through her hair, massaging her scalp lightly, the soft caress of Arizona’s lips intermittently brushing against her own and the giggles Arizona shyly lets escape each time she whispers against the skin on Arizona’s neck those three words that they are still getting accustomed to saying out loud.
“Calliope?” she hears Arizona call her name and nods slightly in response.
“We spend every night together,” Arizona continues, the tremble in her voice is unmistakable, “It’s really… super. I love spending time with you. I just…”
“Oh… Oh! Okay. Yeah,” Callie cuts in, “I guess we do need to slow things down a bit. Yeah umm… we don’t want to be a lesbian cliché do we?”
“What?” Arizona sputters in alarm and moves to sit up, pushing Callie off of her.
“Oh that’s not what you meant?” Callie adjusts herself against the headboard and faces Arizona.
“No! I’m trying to ask you… Calliope, I’m trying… Let’s get our own apartment!” Arizona says as her hands gesticulate in the air in frustration.
Callie can only stare, mouth agape. In her mind, she sees herself running in the opposite direction, not from Arizona, she could never run from Arizona but from herself, from what she wants, from past mistakes, from rash decisions and from stumbling over and over again. So, she continues to stare wordlessly and hopes that Arizona would laugh it off eventually to save them from embarrassment. But Arizona’s blue eyes continue to search her face earnestly for any indication. Time drags on in silence and Callie feels a painful twinge in her heart as she sees those same blue eyes slowly darkening in disappointment.
“Okay. Yeah, let’s do it.”
--
What if we stop having a ball
What if the paint chips from the wall
Progress is a double-edged sword. It is change in a more polished skin. No one informs you that progress does not necessarily lead up to something positive. Like everything else, progress can have two outcomes - the good and the bad. And well, perhaps even a third - the ugly.
Progress has given Callie nothing but the third outcome. Progress gave her George in the church of Elvis and a divorce faster than she could say “I do”. Progress gave her Erica who saw leaves but yet could not see past the black and white of the Izzie Stevens - Denny Duquette situation.
The only thing that she could thank progress for is Arizona. With Arizona, around Arizona, through Arizona, progress came like a slow, gentle caressing breeze where she could take her time to inhale her first whiff of fresh air. The possibility of breezes never crossed her mind; she was too used to the idea of being spun out of control by tornadoes.
But now, she feels the breeze coming on strong, whipping against her face and when she tries to breathe, it rushes down her throat and floods her lungs. Yet, the thought of running away from the breeze, facing away from it, seems worse than the reality because she knows she never wants to be out of air, she never wants to be away from Arizona. So, despite her fears, her better judgment, the feeling that they were hurtling towards an inevitable blowout, Callie agrees to whatever Arizona wants - a fancy new apartment to call their own, a king-sized bed, double sinks in the bathroom - and plasters on a smile as she packs away traces of herself from the apartment that she and Christina have shared for more than a year.
She has of course entertained such thoughts before, that Arizona and her would one day be married, have three beautiful children and live in a gigantic suburban house with dogs and cats in tow. She would be a complete idiot to not realize that Arizona was the one. But even being soul mates did not guarantee a happily ever after. Callie wishes she still has that fearless naivety shrouding her like a protective shell but a heartbreaking divorce, and one wrecked Sapphic experience later, she has reluctantly grown up.
Arizona’s extremely intuitive nature makes it harder for Callie to hide her inner thoughts and feelings. A slight slump of her shoulders and Arizona would be able to immediately pick up that something was wrong. So, Callie stands tall and keeps smiling. Smiling around Arizona was not difficult to begin with. Her exuberance, her passion for life, for Callie, was enthralling to watch and Callie could not bear to break Arizona’s spirit with her own issues. So, she shoves all her fears aside, deep in the recesses of her mind and continues packing.
--
Mark tells her to be honest, come clean and express all of her fears. His sagely advice makes Callie proud of how far he's come but at the same time it reflects just how much she's regressed. He is all about taking chances and she rolls the dice unwillingly.
"She'll find out soon enough. You know that, right?" Mark asks, leaning against the chest of drawers while she's seated on the floor in front of it stuffing sweaters into boxes.
"She won't! Okay?" Callie retorts back childishly, flinging a couple of sweaters at his face.
"Pfft... Seriously, Torres!" he swats the sweaters away, "Tell me again why this is a mistake. She makes you happy, sickeningly happy. So what's the problem?"
Callie shifts her gaze to the boxes in front of her and lets out a long sigh. She does not know how to explain that somehow the part of her that believed in fairytale endings now believed in hidden realities, that the fearless part of her had too many overriding insecurities, and that progress only meant shifting away from the safe bubble she and Arizona had worked hard to build.
With another sigh, she manages to utter a response, “That’s the problem. We're messing around with something that's already good."
"You're messing it up right now by lying. She’s not going to leave you Torres just because you don’t want to play house," Mark replies in a knowing tone that almost makes her want to believe him.
“Yeah she won’t. But it will mess things up worse -- worse than if I pretend that it’s all okay. And I can’t bear that look -- that disappointed look,” Callie sighs again and Mark just nods at her sympathetically.
“Seriously, you should give roller skate girl more credit,” Cristina mutters as she strolls into Callie’s room and plops herself on the bed.
“Jesus, Cristina! Have you been eavesdropping?” Callie cries out, slightly annoyed.
“Yeah, whatever. Just cut through the dyke drama and tell her that you’re not playing house, already. God, lesbians!” Cristina emphasizes with an eye roll.
“Look, I’m not going to go find a new roommate,” Cristina’s tone softens slightly, “They’d annoy me more. So stop packing and just go tell her. She’s not going to cry or have a crazy outburst. She already knows you’ve been burned by Bambi and Hahn so it’s not like a surprise that you have issues. She’s not going to look at you differently. So, seriously tell her before things get out of hand.”
“Yeah, listen to her,” Mark says, bending down to ruffle Callie’s hair, and walks out of her room, Cristina in tow.
--
What if there's always cups in the sink
What if I’m not what you think I am
Callie picks up the phone and dials Arizona’s cell. A part of her hopes that Arizona does not pick up, that she’s busy with a patient or in surgery. She feels her resolve to bare all to Arizona slip away. There are no words in her mouth to begin with.
The phone rings a couple more times and Callie almost cancels the call when she hears Arizona’s voice saying her name tenderly. She cannot help but smile. Only Arizona can make her outlandish name sound beautiful.
Distracted, she says the first thing that comes to mind, “You’re always going to answer the phone, right?”
“Huh?”
“Even if you’re mad at me you’ll answer the phone, right? Even when you don’t recognize me anymore? Even if in that moment you hate me?”
“Calliope, what’s wrong?”
“I umm… I don’t know, Arizona. I’ll just talk to you later.”
Callie hangs up before Arizona has the chance to say anything in return. Callie shakes her head at her inability to do something as simple as talk to her girlfriend. She hates being the relationship cliché - burned and emotionally stunted. Callie could talk about everything else - her dreams, her embarrassing moments, how much she loves Arizona that it sings in her heart - but talking about those things that she most fear seems impossible. Talking about it made it all the more frightening.
In a way, she has already jumpstarted the conversation. She just needs to figure out how to restart it again when Arizona comes home. Emotionally exhausted, Callie pushes everything off the bed and crawls underneath the covers.
--
What if I fall further than you
What if you dream of somebody new
Lying in bed, facing Arizona’s side of the bed, waiting for her, Callie’s thoughts are in a mess. She fiddles with the edges of Arizona’s pillow and ponders if honesty is really the best policy in her case. Honesty is razor sharp and is entangled with the white lies she has spun for Arizona and for herself. In murky waters, honesty stands no chance. It only serves to clear a guilty conscience, pointless attempts at the final stages of a blowout.
She starts to feel embarrassed then and a little stupid. Thirty-three years old, a divorcee and she has apparently learned nothing, as clueless as the first time she sloppily French kissed a boy from band camp. Arizona was right; she is still a newborn.
Lost in her inadequacy, she fails to hear Arizona call out her name, and is startled when Arizona crawls into bed beside her and she finds herself looking directly into cerulean swirls.
“Calliope,” Arizona utters tenderly, pushing strands of hair behind Callie’s ear, “Hey…What’s wrong?”
Callie scrambles to find some way to avoid the inevitable; one last attempt at avoiding what she already knows will happen, what she has already started with the phone call. But Arizona’s gaze is gentle and lulling her to levels of familiar comfort.
Callie dips forward and hides her face in the crook of Arizona’s neck. Arizona starts stroking her hair and soon she naturally drowns herself in Arizona’s scent. Inebriated, Callie closes her eyes and she imagines their future - soft caresses, passionate kisses and lots of laughter, pizza included. She desperately wants to try harder but nothing comes out as she tries to speak, to say the things that she should have said from the very first moment Arizona suggested moving in together.
What if I never let you in
Chase you with a rolling pin
Well, what if I do
She nuzzles Arizona’s neck instead, and then tilts her head up, pulling Arizona in for a kiss. Arizona’s lips are already moist from her strawberry lip gloss and Callie swipes her tongue against Arizona’s lower lip, drawing a soft gasp in response. Arizona’s fingers weave into Callie’s hair and the kiss turns hungry, almost desperate, both of them wanting to feel as much as their lips will allow.
Callie presses Arizona flat against the bed, their lips still locked in a voracious tussle. Callie needs to feel more, bury herself in Arizona, and know that she’s really there, that she’s not going to leave when everything spills out. She pulls away to swiftly pull both their shirts off. Skin on skin, she plants a kiss square on Arizona’s clavicle and kisses her way up to the tender spot on Arizona’s neck, feeling it pulsate against her lips. Reflexively, Arizona tightens her clutch on Callie’s hair and lets out an appreciative moan.
Tangling their legs together, she immerses herself in her ministrations on Arizona’s neck, almost forgetting that there was something she wanted to say to Arizona in the first place. She feels Arizona’s head shift just then, and hears Arizona’s voice strained, whispering against her ear, “It’s ok, Calliope. It’s ok. Tell me.”
Callie jerks her head up and faces Arizona. It still shocks her that Arizona has become so in tune to her inner emotions, her needs. Arizona’s caressing her face and she feels the words come to her but she knows she’ll muddle it up and before she can stop herself she hears herself clumsily say, “I don’t want to move in together. I can’t Arizona. I just can’t. I umm… I don’t know. I think we need to take a break.”
--
What if our baby comes in after nine
What if your eyes close before mine
Callie wishes she had not said anything at all. She especially wishes she could take back the last part. She sits up in bed, resting her back against the headboard, not bothering to put her t-shirt back on. She folds her legs and traps both her hands in between her legs. Arizona is seated in front of her, staring at her in disbelief.
“So… you don’t.. umm… love me anymore?” Arizona asks slowly, carefully uttering each word.
“Arizona, that’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant,” Callie replies, the feeling of wanting to bury herself alive increasing with each moment.
“Then what do you mean? Cos it sounds to me like you want to end things,” Arizona asks in despair.
“No! No! I just… god… I just love you too much, ok? And I’m scared,” Callie huffs in response, reaching out to grab Arizona’s hands, squeezing them in hers, “I’m scared out of my mind.”
“Oh…” Arizona replies softly.
Arizona’s expressions changes and Callie can see a smile forming from the corners of Arizona’s mouth.
“Are you seriously finding this funny?” Callie asks, raising an eyebrow.
Arizona takes Callie’s hands and kisses each one of them, her expression downright mischievous. She places them in the pool of her lap and lets out a little giggle.
“Calliope, I’m scared out of my mind too. I’m scared to lose you so bad that I have this need to be closer to you, to know you’re right here with me, to protect you from everything,” Arizona says affectionately.
Callie looks at Arizona, baffled. All along, she had assumed that she was the only one floundering, finding ways to maintain their relationship because she valued it so much. Her modus operandi was to stay stagnant; nothing can go wrong if you remain exactly where you are. Arizona’s was the complete opposite.
“We can cancel on the apartment if you want to. I was scared to ask, actually. I didn’t think you’d go for it but I wanted to ask anyway because I’m ready. But if you’re not ready, I can wait for when you really are ready. I can wait a long time,” Arizona rambles.
Callie understands now just how much of Arizona’s inner monologues she fails to pick up on. She knows it is cheesy but right then Callie wants to thank god for bringing her Arizona.
“I see our future, you know? I see it clear and bright. I do see it,” Callie explains, tracing patterns on Arizona’s hands with her thumb.
“You do?” Arizona asks, pleasantly surprised, beaming.
“I do,” Callie replies.
She smiles, flashing back to her most favorite memory of Arizona.
What if you lose yourself sometimes
And I'll be the one to find you
Safe in my heart
Callie can’t help but let out a giggle of her own just then, small chuckles turn into huge peals of laughter and Arizona soon joins in.
“We’re really quite a pair aren’t we?” Callie asks.
“Yeah, yeah we are,” Arizona smiles, her blue eyes, clear as day.
Arizona leans forward and brushes her lips lightly against Callie’s. Waggling her eyebrows flirtatiously, she leans in for another kiss, deeper this time, slower, painfully slow. Callie tries to speed up the kiss, but Arizona holds the sides of her face and continues the slow pleasurable torture against her lips.
“Lie back,” Arizona says, in between kisses, “I want to make love to you, Calliope. Slowly. Really, slowly.”
“Evil,” Callie groans in frustration.
--
Cos I am giving up on making passes
And I am giving up on half empty glasses
And I am giving up on greener grasses
Calliope Iphigenia Torres is happy - mind numbingly happy, nauseatingly happy, bursting at the seams happy. In the comfort of Arizona’s arms, in the crook of Arizona’s neck, the scent of Arizona’s sun-kissed hair invading her senses, she gets an idea. This is one step she’s ready to take.
“Hey… umm are all your stuff packed up already?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’m not ready to play house just yet. But you’re right. We do spend every night together. In this apartment.”
“Yeah?”
“Arizona, move in here with me?”
I am giving up
For you
-- Fin
Author: alex_kingston
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: R (to be safe)
Word Count: 2, 856
Summary: Inspired by Ingrid Michaelson’s "Giving Up", a song fic of sorts. It's a good kind of giving up :) Arizona wants them to move in together, get a place of their own. Callie’s afraid to destroy the good thing they have but agrees anyway. She doesn’t realize that her fears, her inability to communicate will spin everything out of control.
Disclaimer: I do not own them or the song and I do not make any profits whatsoever and I certainly mean no harm. I am merely borrowing Callie and Arizona for my own gratuitous word play (and on-call room threesomes *slurps*).
Author’s Note: My prompt was "Anything Calzona works! (I'm an angst with happy make up stuff sucker)". So, it’s really not as depressing as it sounds. Everything ends happily of course because Callie and Arizona are meant to be! Thank you to my beta of sorts and my Rock Band "leader" atikk for your ideas and your time :)
Also, I really really apologize for posting this more than 12 hours after the end of Dec 25th. The fic became longer than I expected it to be. Forgive me radical618! I really hope you like your gift:)
Happy Boxing Day!
--
Calliope Iphigenia Torres is happy - mind numbingly happy, nauseatingly happy, bursting at the seams happy. It was bordering on delirious and she was one step away from skipping her way through a meadow to belt out lyrics that begin with “the hills are alive”. In the comfort of Arizona’s arms, in the crook of Arizona’s neck, the scent of Arizona’s sun-kissed hair invading her senses, Callie knows that she could probably start the singing right now.
It is almost puzzling that something as innocuous as lying in her bed with her girlfriend, staring at nothing in particular, could induce an unparalleled high. Her mind goes on overdrive just then, wondering if Arizona’s ability to catapult her to happiness could also mean her ability to inadvertently achieve the reverse. But Callie knows better than to over analyze. She allows herself to bask in the soothing sensation of Arizona’s fingers running its way through her hair, massaging her scalp lightly, the soft caress of Arizona’s lips intermittently brushing against her own and the giggles Arizona shyly lets escape each time she whispers against the skin on Arizona’s neck those three words that they are still getting accustomed to saying out loud.
“Calliope?” she hears Arizona call her name and nods slightly in response.
“We spend every night together,” Arizona continues, the tremble in her voice is unmistakable, “It’s really… super. I love spending time with you. I just…”
“Oh… Oh! Okay. Yeah,” Callie cuts in, “I guess we do need to slow things down a bit. Yeah umm… we don’t want to be a lesbian cliché do we?”
“What?” Arizona sputters in alarm and moves to sit up, pushing Callie off of her.
“Oh that’s not what you meant?” Callie adjusts herself against the headboard and faces Arizona.
“No! I’m trying to ask you… Calliope, I’m trying… Let’s get our own apartment!” Arizona says as her hands gesticulate in the air in frustration.
Callie can only stare, mouth agape. In her mind, she sees herself running in the opposite direction, not from Arizona, she could never run from Arizona but from herself, from what she wants, from past mistakes, from rash decisions and from stumbling over and over again. So, she continues to stare wordlessly and hopes that Arizona would laugh it off eventually to save them from embarrassment. But Arizona’s blue eyes continue to search her face earnestly for any indication. Time drags on in silence and Callie feels a painful twinge in her heart as she sees those same blue eyes slowly darkening in disappointment.
“Okay. Yeah, let’s do it.”
--
What if we stop having a ball
What if the paint chips from the wall
Progress is a double-edged sword. It is change in a more polished skin. No one informs you that progress does not necessarily lead up to something positive. Like everything else, progress can have two outcomes - the good and the bad. And well, perhaps even a third - the ugly.
Progress has given Callie nothing but the third outcome. Progress gave her George in the church of Elvis and a divorce faster than she could say “I do”. Progress gave her Erica who saw leaves but yet could not see past the black and white of the Izzie Stevens - Denny Duquette situation.
The only thing that she could thank progress for is Arizona. With Arizona, around Arizona, through Arizona, progress came like a slow, gentle caressing breeze where she could take her time to inhale her first whiff of fresh air. The possibility of breezes never crossed her mind; she was too used to the idea of being spun out of control by tornadoes.
But now, she feels the breeze coming on strong, whipping against her face and when she tries to breathe, it rushes down her throat and floods her lungs. Yet, the thought of running away from the breeze, facing away from it, seems worse than the reality because she knows she never wants to be out of air, she never wants to be away from Arizona. So, despite her fears, her better judgment, the feeling that they were hurtling towards an inevitable blowout, Callie agrees to whatever Arizona wants - a fancy new apartment to call their own, a king-sized bed, double sinks in the bathroom - and plasters on a smile as she packs away traces of herself from the apartment that she and Christina have shared for more than a year.
She has of course entertained such thoughts before, that Arizona and her would one day be married, have three beautiful children and live in a gigantic suburban house with dogs and cats in tow. She would be a complete idiot to not realize that Arizona was the one. But even being soul mates did not guarantee a happily ever after. Callie wishes she still has that fearless naivety shrouding her like a protective shell but a heartbreaking divorce, and one wrecked Sapphic experience later, she has reluctantly grown up.
Arizona’s extremely intuitive nature makes it harder for Callie to hide her inner thoughts and feelings. A slight slump of her shoulders and Arizona would be able to immediately pick up that something was wrong. So, Callie stands tall and keeps smiling. Smiling around Arizona was not difficult to begin with. Her exuberance, her passion for life, for Callie, was enthralling to watch and Callie could not bear to break Arizona’s spirit with her own issues. So, she shoves all her fears aside, deep in the recesses of her mind and continues packing.
--
Mark tells her to be honest, come clean and express all of her fears. His sagely advice makes Callie proud of how far he's come but at the same time it reflects just how much she's regressed. He is all about taking chances and she rolls the dice unwillingly.
"She'll find out soon enough. You know that, right?" Mark asks, leaning against the chest of drawers while she's seated on the floor in front of it stuffing sweaters into boxes.
"She won't! Okay?" Callie retorts back childishly, flinging a couple of sweaters at his face.
"Pfft... Seriously, Torres!" he swats the sweaters away, "Tell me again why this is a mistake. She makes you happy, sickeningly happy. So what's the problem?"
Callie shifts her gaze to the boxes in front of her and lets out a long sigh. She does not know how to explain that somehow the part of her that believed in fairytale endings now believed in hidden realities, that the fearless part of her had too many overriding insecurities, and that progress only meant shifting away from the safe bubble she and Arizona had worked hard to build.
With another sigh, she manages to utter a response, “That’s the problem. We're messing around with something that's already good."
"You're messing it up right now by lying. She’s not going to leave you Torres just because you don’t want to play house," Mark replies in a knowing tone that almost makes her want to believe him.
“Yeah she won’t. But it will mess things up worse -- worse than if I pretend that it’s all okay. And I can’t bear that look -- that disappointed look,” Callie sighs again and Mark just nods at her sympathetically.
“Seriously, you should give roller skate girl more credit,” Cristina mutters as she strolls into Callie’s room and plops herself on the bed.
“Jesus, Cristina! Have you been eavesdropping?” Callie cries out, slightly annoyed.
“Yeah, whatever. Just cut through the dyke drama and tell her that you’re not playing house, already. God, lesbians!” Cristina emphasizes with an eye roll.
“Look, I’m not going to go find a new roommate,” Cristina’s tone softens slightly, “They’d annoy me more. So stop packing and just go tell her. She’s not going to cry or have a crazy outburst. She already knows you’ve been burned by Bambi and Hahn so it’s not like a surprise that you have issues. She’s not going to look at you differently. So, seriously tell her before things get out of hand.”
“Yeah, listen to her,” Mark says, bending down to ruffle Callie’s hair, and walks out of her room, Cristina in tow.
--
What if there's always cups in the sink
What if I’m not what you think I am
Callie picks up the phone and dials Arizona’s cell. A part of her hopes that Arizona does not pick up, that she’s busy with a patient or in surgery. She feels her resolve to bare all to Arizona slip away. There are no words in her mouth to begin with.
The phone rings a couple more times and Callie almost cancels the call when she hears Arizona’s voice saying her name tenderly. She cannot help but smile. Only Arizona can make her outlandish name sound beautiful.
Distracted, she says the first thing that comes to mind, “You’re always going to answer the phone, right?”
“Huh?”
“Even if you’re mad at me you’ll answer the phone, right? Even when you don’t recognize me anymore? Even if in that moment you hate me?”
“Calliope, what’s wrong?”
“I umm… I don’t know, Arizona. I’ll just talk to you later.”
Callie hangs up before Arizona has the chance to say anything in return. Callie shakes her head at her inability to do something as simple as talk to her girlfriend. She hates being the relationship cliché - burned and emotionally stunted. Callie could talk about everything else - her dreams, her embarrassing moments, how much she loves Arizona that it sings in her heart - but talking about those things that she most fear seems impossible. Talking about it made it all the more frightening.
In a way, she has already jumpstarted the conversation. She just needs to figure out how to restart it again when Arizona comes home. Emotionally exhausted, Callie pushes everything off the bed and crawls underneath the covers.
--
What if I fall further than you
What if you dream of somebody new
Lying in bed, facing Arizona’s side of the bed, waiting for her, Callie’s thoughts are in a mess. She fiddles with the edges of Arizona’s pillow and ponders if honesty is really the best policy in her case. Honesty is razor sharp and is entangled with the white lies she has spun for Arizona and for herself. In murky waters, honesty stands no chance. It only serves to clear a guilty conscience, pointless attempts at the final stages of a blowout.
She starts to feel embarrassed then and a little stupid. Thirty-three years old, a divorcee and she has apparently learned nothing, as clueless as the first time she sloppily French kissed a boy from band camp. Arizona was right; she is still a newborn.
Lost in her inadequacy, she fails to hear Arizona call out her name, and is startled when Arizona crawls into bed beside her and she finds herself looking directly into cerulean swirls.
“Calliope,” Arizona utters tenderly, pushing strands of hair behind Callie’s ear, “Hey…What’s wrong?”
Callie scrambles to find some way to avoid the inevitable; one last attempt at avoiding what she already knows will happen, what she has already started with the phone call. But Arizona’s gaze is gentle and lulling her to levels of familiar comfort.
Callie dips forward and hides her face in the crook of Arizona’s neck. Arizona starts stroking her hair and soon she naturally drowns herself in Arizona’s scent. Inebriated, Callie closes her eyes and she imagines their future - soft caresses, passionate kisses and lots of laughter, pizza included. She desperately wants to try harder but nothing comes out as she tries to speak, to say the things that she should have said from the very first moment Arizona suggested moving in together.
What if I never let you in
Chase you with a rolling pin
Well, what if I do
She nuzzles Arizona’s neck instead, and then tilts her head up, pulling Arizona in for a kiss. Arizona’s lips are already moist from her strawberry lip gloss and Callie swipes her tongue against Arizona’s lower lip, drawing a soft gasp in response. Arizona’s fingers weave into Callie’s hair and the kiss turns hungry, almost desperate, both of them wanting to feel as much as their lips will allow.
Callie presses Arizona flat against the bed, their lips still locked in a voracious tussle. Callie needs to feel more, bury herself in Arizona, and know that she’s really there, that she’s not going to leave when everything spills out. She pulls away to swiftly pull both their shirts off. Skin on skin, she plants a kiss square on Arizona’s clavicle and kisses her way up to the tender spot on Arizona’s neck, feeling it pulsate against her lips. Reflexively, Arizona tightens her clutch on Callie’s hair and lets out an appreciative moan.
Tangling their legs together, she immerses herself in her ministrations on Arizona’s neck, almost forgetting that there was something she wanted to say to Arizona in the first place. She feels Arizona’s head shift just then, and hears Arizona’s voice strained, whispering against her ear, “It’s ok, Calliope. It’s ok. Tell me.”
Callie jerks her head up and faces Arizona. It still shocks her that Arizona has become so in tune to her inner emotions, her needs. Arizona’s caressing her face and she feels the words come to her but she knows she’ll muddle it up and before she can stop herself she hears herself clumsily say, “I don’t want to move in together. I can’t Arizona. I just can’t. I umm… I don’t know. I think we need to take a break.”
--
What if our baby comes in after nine
What if your eyes close before mine
Callie wishes she had not said anything at all. She especially wishes she could take back the last part. She sits up in bed, resting her back against the headboard, not bothering to put her t-shirt back on. She folds her legs and traps both her hands in between her legs. Arizona is seated in front of her, staring at her in disbelief.
“So… you don’t.. umm… love me anymore?” Arizona asks slowly, carefully uttering each word.
“Arizona, that’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant,” Callie replies, the feeling of wanting to bury herself alive increasing with each moment.
“Then what do you mean? Cos it sounds to me like you want to end things,” Arizona asks in despair.
“No! No! I just… god… I just love you too much, ok? And I’m scared,” Callie huffs in response, reaching out to grab Arizona’s hands, squeezing them in hers, “I’m scared out of my mind.”
“Oh…” Arizona replies softly.
Arizona’s expressions changes and Callie can see a smile forming from the corners of Arizona’s mouth.
“Are you seriously finding this funny?” Callie asks, raising an eyebrow.
Arizona takes Callie’s hands and kisses each one of them, her expression downright mischievous. She places them in the pool of her lap and lets out a little giggle.
“Calliope, I’m scared out of my mind too. I’m scared to lose you so bad that I have this need to be closer to you, to know you’re right here with me, to protect you from everything,” Arizona says affectionately.
Callie looks at Arizona, baffled. All along, she had assumed that she was the only one floundering, finding ways to maintain their relationship because she valued it so much. Her modus operandi was to stay stagnant; nothing can go wrong if you remain exactly where you are. Arizona’s was the complete opposite.
“We can cancel on the apartment if you want to. I was scared to ask, actually. I didn’t think you’d go for it but I wanted to ask anyway because I’m ready. But if you’re not ready, I can wait for when you really are ready. I can wait a long time,” Arizona rambles.
Callie understands now just how much of Arizona’s inner monologues she fails to pick up on. She knows it is cheesy but right then Callie wants to thank god for bringing her Arizona.
“I see our future, you know? I see it clear and bright. I do see it,” Callie explains, tracing patterns on Arizona’s hands with her thumb.
“You do?” Arizona asks, pleasantly surprised, beaming.
“I do,” Callie replies.
She smiles, flashing back to her most favorite memory of Arizona.
What if you lose yourself sometimes
And I'll be the one to find you
Safe in my heart
Callie can’t help but let out a giggle of her own just then, small chuckles turn into huge peals of laughter and Arizona soon joins in.
“We’re really quite a pair aren’t we?” Callie asks.
“Yeah, yeah we are,” Arizona smiles, her blue eyes, clear as day.
Arizona leans forward and brushes her lips lightly against Callie’s. Waggling her eyebrows flirtatiously, she leans in for another kiss, deeper this time, slower, painfully slow. Callie tries to speed up the kiss, but Arizona holds the sides of her face and continues the slow pleasurable torture against her lips.
“Lie back,” Arizona says, in between kisses, “I want to make love to you, Calliope. Slowly. Really, slowly.”
“Evil,” Callie groans in frustration.
--
Cos I am giving up on making passes
And I am giving up on half empty glasses
And I am giving up on greener grasses
Calliope Iphigenia Torres is happy - mind numbingly happy, nauseatingly happy, bursting at the seams happy. In the comfort of Arizona’s arms, in the crook of Arizona’s neck, the scent of Arizona’s sun-kissed hair invading her senses, she gets an idea. This is one step she’s ready to take.
“Hey… umm are all your stuff packed up already?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’m not ready to play house just yet. But you’re right. We do spend every night together. In this apartment.”
“Yeah?”
“Arizona, move in here with me?”
I am giving up
For you
-- Fin