Fic: Musing Interlude
Title: Musing Interlude Author: blackindiaink
Rating: Slightly NC-17
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Summary: Callie's musings about the night before and what happens when Arizona realizes what she's thinking.
Disclaimer: Author does not own characters or intend infringement and gained no profit from this work.
A/N: So, I was listening to a song and this happened in two hours. It is all from Callie's point of view and is mostly her thoughts but some Arizona interaction is to be had.
If you let me live in the little places between your moments I would be grateful. If you let me love you as you should be loved it would complete me. I take your heart, love, and mind as the balance to my own, that list of things that react in kind. You possess the ease of feeling that has eluded me for all the years of my life. Thoughts run over your consciousness and pour out through all the movements of your body, but your face tells me what the rest of you cannot.
Your chin moves to the side when you are trying to impress a point upon me, when you need me to unequivocally know the truth of your words and actions. When you grow weary the smile you let fall on your face tells me about the hours you have spent bringing about the salvation of a child. When you rise up onto your tip toes in excitement I can feel the anticipation you have for what is coming.
I only hope that my reactions tell you that I see it all, every detail of who you are to me. My observation does not end with your actions. What lies beneath your intermediate waves and calm seas is the deep fear and loss that come when past afflictions cut to the quick. I can sense the feelings that sink deep when you cover them for the world. You may not realize that I discern them but if you do, you hide it better than the pain itself.
Right now you are standing halfway down the hall at the nurses station and I've stopped to observe you. I find beauty in your interactions with the world. The slight sway of your hips as you balance on your left foot and then your right brings my eyes down to your waist where I see the short strings of your scrub pants move with you. I remember last night when I decided to take an identical pair off of your body as slowly as possible, just so that I could see the hunger in your eyes when I finally pulled them free of your body.
My eyes return to your face, which is framed by the curls that you leave free of your ponytail. The way they fall around your cheeks reminds me of a nineteenth century portrait. I know if I told you that, you may not appreciate the comparison but there was something in the eyes of those great ladies that echos the strength you possess.
I envy the pen you are holding but even standing yards away I can feel the caress of your fingertips as if it were me you were touching and not the writing implement. Again, recollections of the previous night are called to mind. The smooth movement of your fingers as they entered me and claimed my body as you've claimed my heart. The whisper of your breath when your lips touched me in the places that ached for your attention all at once.
My hands ball into fists with the physicality of my remembrances. Your smile when the nurse speaks to you makes me think of every time I looked down in the moments leading up to my release. It was a different smile on your face then and it was only meant for me. I like to think that you had never made that particular expression until you met me. I refuse to share it with another soul. In fact, I claim that one piece of you and hide it away from the world amongst the inner workings of my heart.
Your hand smooths stray hair away from your eyes but on the way to take its place at your side I see you've grazed the side of your breast unintentionally. In my mind it is my breast and you are teasing the flesh to your will and liking. The soft skin of your hands finding the map of my chest and reading it as if it were braille.
You have a way of playing my body as if the sensations have a tone and key, as if I will sing out with the absence of rational thought as you undo me over and over until I have no more breath to tide me until the next wave. It makes me aware of the vast reaches of space I have not yet touched inside myself.
You have found those parts of me that I never use and that have gone wasted for thirty years. Working in a small time frame you have cleaned off the shelves of my existence and helped me learn to use what I inherently have for my own betterment. To help me fill myself so that I have more to give you. I treasure the ability to be your succor, to give you the arms that hold you up when need be.
I am a doctor but I did not know healing until I was tried and emotionally scared to the point of absolute exhaustion. With your combustible presence you have boosted my reserves and I have the power to build a new home within the confines of the structure we have started.
Just as I have decided to come to you, your eyes find me leaning to take the first step. Our connection is at work again, making it even more obvious that we are right to love as we do. My lips move in accordance with yours taking the happy pathway up and around into a gentle smile. My feet move quickly, bidden to make the distance between us disappear.
There are no people to witness our greeting, which if observed would lead anyone to the conclusion that an intimate correspondence was occurring. My hand reaches out without my mind issuing the order for it to move and with relief flooding me I touch your exposed skin as only a lover could.
For, my skin knows yours as it has known no other and it cries out for more,. Even knowing that this is not possible until we have fulfilled our duties leaving us free to feast on the all the ways in which our bodies can welcome each other in the privacy of my bed. Where the entrances and exits we find within each other catch fire to our merged souls.
“Calliope,” you say.
You have spoken my name at various volumes and pitches depending upon the activity in progress but it always makes my insides stand at attention. This particular time you have said it in a playful manner that bespeaks your good mood. I sense that you have come off the high of a positive prognosis.
“Hey,” I reply.
It may seem a simple word but the way your eyes move below your lashes I know that the tone has clued you into my state of being. I see the images of last night as you saw them. Each one flipping through your mind in response to my subtle arousal. My mouth flattens as my expression changes to indicate my needs. Alacrity shows itself immediately. Your bind your hand to mine and lean in, feeding heat to my instantaneous reaction to you.
Your mouth slides in close to my ear and the hand not wrapped around mine shields your face from prying eyes. I have bowed into you until the electricity leaping from your skin reaches mine, making me tingle without actual contact. Your lick your bottom lip before speaking and the tip of your tongue peeks out to dab my earlobe.
“I love you,” you whisper.
It isn't the tender version of the phrase that we spoke on your birthday. This is laced with the raw voracity that is contained in your small body. You can certainly be an insatiable woman, which is a mirror of my own sexual appetite.
I know that later you will take me in small chunks making sure you have lapped the last flavor from every portion. I want that from you. In fact, I need to feel you yearn for the moment that you dismantle my control and thrust your neat, quick fingers through my outer walls and deep inside me. The mouth cooing words into my ear will pull the slack in my nerves tight until I burst onto your skin with sated bliss.
This is my every day now with you. True, it is not always this heated. It can be tender, frustrated, or a dozen other variations, but it is always with love and trust that we approach each other. Even our anger shows how much we care to keep this wondrous tangle of connection between us alive and healthy. It resembles the human body with its mysteries and processes. I know that if we can heal our patient's bodies and save the lives that they contain then we can nurture each other with the understanding gained from each experience we gather.
“I'll see you at home,” I say, referring to the apartment that she doesn't technically live in.
Her heart is with me and so my home is hers no matter the formality of leases. We have brooked no objections on the subject. I think my roommate finds it oddly comforting to have Arizona's unique outlook present in our every day lives ,and if nothing else she brings the pastries we all enjoy. With one last long look into her beryl eyes I start to move on about my business, preparing to focus not on her absence but on my work.
She will not let me go that easily though because I have started something that we can't finish here in the exposed and completely public halls. She glances in each direction and seeing that we are still too exposed she pushes me toward the elevators across the hall from where we are standing. Her grip on my hand tightens as she pushes the button.
My prayers, and I suspect hers, are answered when the door opens to reveal an empty elevator car. She pushes me past the doors and we continue through until my back meets the cold steel of the wall. She smiles up at me innocently until the jerking of the closing doors ends in our total concealment from the outside world.
Here our own private world can expand to form an aura of protection around us. Her lips are glossed with a sheen of light pink that makes them seem fuller and even more tempting than I remember. I lose sight of them as my eyes close in response to the urgent touch of the mouth that utters those three words to me every night. She kisses me hard making my back impact the wall once again but this time in a slow sensual press of our bodies against each other.
She moves slow and then fast against me, completely in control. I reach around to tangle my hand in her curls while I can. The touch of the silky hairs at the base of her neck tickles my wrist, exciting the flesh tenfold. Her tongue finds my lips and begs entrance. I gratefully allow the passage in exchange for the pleasure it creates for us both. A slow exploration that transcends the thirty seconds we have together begins and stretches fiercely on until it must halt.
The spell ends when I feel her extract herself from our enfolding embrace. My body leans forward searching for her but the foot of space between us is enough for me to rein in the instinctual reaction. She steps back a foot more, making it two too many for me to cross. The ding signaling the inevitable postponement of our coupling rings through the enclosed space. The sound waves languish in my ears making me mourn at their natural reverberation.
Just before the doors open she smiles at me and brings her hand to her mouth. I see her lips purse in a kiss against her fingers. She reaches out and places the gift bestowed by her hand onto my lips in one last declaration to close our encounter. She has imprinted all the words she wants to say in that action and fed it to me as sustenance to see me through the day. We exit the elevator and stop just outside in the hall, one floor down from where we were before. Before she can walk away I catch her eye.
“I love you too,” I say.
I am already wishing that nightfall would rush the horizon in a mad dash against the earth's lid so that I could properly show her just how right the world is with our bodies entwined in each other. At least until morning throws the heavy blanket of sleep off its burdened shoulders. I even anticipate the glory of pink sunrise through the clouds ushering in the start of another cycle of our existence. As long as we share it just as we have done this day I would be as happy as a spoiled house cat.
Rating: Slightly NC-17
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Summary: Callie's musings about the night before and what happens when Arizona realizes what she's thinking.
Disclaimer: Author does not own characters or intend infringement and gained no profit from this work.
A/N: So, I was listening to a song and this happened in two hours. It is all from Callie's point of view and is mostly her thoughts but some Arizona interaction is to be had.
If you let me live in the little places between your moments I would be grateful. If you let me love you as you should be loved it would complete me. I take your heart, love, and mind as the balance to my own, that list of things that react in kind. You possess the ease of feeling that has eluded me for all the years of my life. Thoughts run over your consciousness and pour out through all the movements of your body, but your face tells me what the rest of you cannot.
Your chin moves to the side when you are trying to impress a point upon me, when you need me to unequivocally know the truth of your words and actions. When you grow weary the smile you let fall on your face tells me about the hours you have spent bringing about the salvation of a child. When you rise up onto your tip toes in excitement I can feel the anticipation you have for what is coming.
I only hope that my reactions tell you that I see it all, every detail of who you are to me. My observation does not end with your actions. What lies beneath your intermediate waves and calm seas is the deep fear and loss that come when past afflictions cut to the quick. I can sense the feelings that sink deep when you cover them for the world. You may not realize that I discern them but if you do, you hide it better than the pain itself.
Right now you are standing halfway down the hall at the nurses station and I've stopped to observe you. I find beauty in your interactions with the world. The slight sway of your hips as you balance on your left foot and then your right brings my eyes down to your waist where I see the short strings of your scrub pants move with you. I remember last night when I decided to take an identical pair off of your body as slowly as possible, just so that I could see the hunger in your eyes when I finally pulled them free of your body.
My eyes return to your face, which is framed by the curls that you leave free of your ponytail. The way they fall around your cheeks reminds me of a nineteenth century portrait. I know if I told you that, you may not appreciate the comparison but there was something in the eyes of those great ladies that echos the strength you possess.
I envy the pen you are holding but even standing yards away I can feel the caress of your fingertips as if it were me you were touching and not the writing implement. Again, recollections of the previous night are called to mind. The smooth movement of your fingers as they entered me and claimed my body as you've claimed my heart. The whisper of your breath when your lips touched me in the places that ached for your attention all at once.
My hands ball into fists with the physicality of my remembrances. Your smile when the nurse speaks to you makes me think of every time I looked down in the moments leading up to my release. It was a different smile on your face then and it was only meant for me. I like to think that you had never made that particular expression until you met me. I refuse to share it with another soul. In fact, I claim that one piece of you and hide it away from the world amongst the inner workings of my heart.
Your hand smooths stray hair away from your eyes but on the way to take its place at your side I see you've grazed the side of your breast unintentionally. In my mind it is my breast and you are teasing the flesh to your will and liking. The soft skin of your hands finding the map of my chest and reading it as if it were braille.
You have a way of playing my body as if the sensations have a tone and key, as if I will sing out with the absence of rational thought as you undo me over and over until I have no more breath to tide me until the next wave. It makes me aware of the vast reaches of space I have not yet touched inside myself.
You have found those parts of me that I never use and that have gone wasted for thirty years. Working in a small time frame you have cleaned off the shelves of my existence and helped me learn to use what I inherently have for my own betterment. To help me fill myself so that I have more to give you. I treasure the ability to be your succor, to give you the arms that hold you up when need be.
I am a doctor but I did not know healing until I was tried and emotionally scared to the point of absolute exhaustion. With your combustible presence you have boosted my reserves and I have the power to build a new home within the confines of the structure we have started.
Just as I have decided to come to you, your eyes find me leaning to take the first step. Our connection is at work again, making it even more obvious that we are right to love as we do. My lips move in accordance with yours taking the happy pathway up and around into a gentle smile. My feet move quickly, bidden to make the distance between us disappear.
There are no people to witness our greeting, which if observed would lead anyone to the conclusion that an intimate correspondence was occurring. My hand reaches out without my mind issuing the order for it to move and with relief flooding me I touch your exposed skin as only a lover could.
For, my skin knows yours as it has known no other and it cries out for more,. Even knowing that this is not possible until we have fulfilled our duties leaving us free to feast on the all the ways in which our bodies can welcome each other in the privacy of my bed. Where the entrances and exits we find within each other catch fire to our merged souls.
“Calliope,” you say.
You have spoken my name at various volumes and pitches depending upon the activity in progress but it always makes my insides stand at attention. This particular time you have said it in a playful manner that bespeaks your good mood. I sense that you have come off the high of a positive prognosis.
“Hey,” I reply.
It may seem a simple word but the way your eyes move below your lashes I know that the tone has clued you into my state of being. I see the images of last night as you saw them. Each one flipping through your mind in response to my subtle arousal. My mouth flattens as my expression changes to indicate my needs. Alacrity shows itself immediately. Your bind your hand to mine and lean in, feeding heat to my instantaneous reaction to you.
Your mouth slides in close to my ear and the hand not wrapped around mine shields your face from prying eyes. I have bowed into you until the electricity leaping from your skin reaches mine, making me tingle without actual contact. Your lick your bottom lip before speaking and the tip of your tongue peeks out to dab my earlobe.
“I love you,” you whisper.
It isn't the tender version of the phrase that we spoke on your birthday. This is laced with the raw voracity that is contained in your small body. You can certainly be an insatiable woman, which is a mirror of my own sexual appetite.
I know that later you will take me in small chunks making sure you have lapped the last flavor from every portion. I want that from you. In fact, I need to feel you yearn for the moment that you dismantle my control and thrust your neat, quick fingers through my outer walls and deep inside me. The mouth cooing words into my ear will pull the slack in my nerves tight until I burst onto your skin with sated bliss.
This is my every day now with you. True, it is not always this heated. It can be tender, frustrated, or a dozen other variations, but it is always with love and trust that we approach each other. Even our anger shows how much we care to keep this wondrous tangle of connection between us alive and healthy. It resembles the human body with its mysteries and processes. I know that if we can heal our patient's bodies and save the lives that they contain then we can nurture each other with the understanding gained from each experience we gather.
“I'll see you at home,” I say, referring to the apartment that she doesn't technically live in.
Her heart is with me and so my home is hers no matter the formality of leases. We have brooked no objections on the subject. I think my roommate finds it oddly comforting to have Arizona's unique outlook present in our every day lives ,and if nothing else she brings the pastries we all enjoy. With one last long look into her beryl eyes I start to move on about my business, preparing to focus not on her absence but on my work.
She will not let me go that easily though because I have started something that we can't finish here in the exposed and completely public halls. She glances in each direction and seeing that we are still too exposed she pushes me toward the elevators across the hall from where we are standing. Her grip on my hand tightens as she pushes the button.
My prayers, and I suspect hers, are answered when the door opens to reveal an empty elevator car. She pushes me past the doors and we continue through until my back meets the cold steel of the wall. She smiles up at me innocently until the jerking of the closing doors ends in our total concealment from the outside world.
Here our own private world can expand to form an aura of protection around us. Her lips are glossed with a sheen of light pink that makes them seem fuller and even more tempting than I remember. I lose sight of them as my eyes close in response to the urgent touch of the mouth that utters those three words to me every night. She kisses me hard making my back impact the wall once again but this time in a slow sensual press of our bodies against each other.
She moves slow and then fast against me, completely in control. I reach around to tangle my hand in her curls while I can. The touch of the silky hairs at the base of her neck tickles my wrist, exciting the flesh tenfold. Her tongue finds my lips and begs entrance. I gratefully allow the passage in exchange for the pleasure it creates for us both. A slow exploration that transcends the thirty seconds we have together begins and stretches fiercely on until it must halt.
The spell ends when I feel her extract herself from our enfolding embrace. My body leans forward searching for her but the foot of space between us is enough for me to rein in the instinctual reaction. She steps back a foot more, making it two too many for me to cross. The ding signaling the inevitable postponement of our coupling rings through the enclosed space. The sound waves languish in my ears making me mourn at their natural reverberation.
Just before the doors open she smiles at me and brings her hand to her mouth. I see her lips purse in a kiss against her fingers. She reaches out and places the gift bestowed by her hand onto my lips in one last declaration to close our encounter. She has imprinted all the words she wants to say in that action and fed it to me as sustenance to see me through the day. We exit the elevator and stop just outside in the hall, one floor down from where we were before. Before she can walk away I catch her eye.
“I love you too,” I say.
I am already wishing that nightfall would rush the horizon in a mad dash against the earth's lid so that I could properly show her just how right the world is with our bodies entwined in each other. At least until morning throws the heavy blanket of sleep off its burdened shoulders. I even anticipate the glory of pink sunrise through the clouds ushering in the start of another cycle of our existence. As long as we share it just as we have done this day I would be as happy as a spoiled house cat.