Just 'Cause She Dances Go-Go
Title: Just 'Cause She Dances Go-Go
Authors: clanket and roughian
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: PG
Summary: ♫ I ain't sayin' she's a pole dancer, but she ain't messin' with no club bouncer ♫ Callie will cut a bitch if he insults her little lady one more time! Bambina!verse one shot.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Callie stood in the attendings’ lounge on the third floor of Seattle Grace - Mercy West Hospital, the one closest to both the paediatrics wing and the hospital’s day care centre, bobbing her entire body up and down softly in the universal motion that was meant to keep babies calm. It seemed to be working by the looks of the half-asleep baby in her little carrier strapped to the Latina’s chest. One of the infant’s little arms was tucked in close to her body with her hand resting under her cheek which in turn rested on Callie’s bosom; her other tiny hand clutched her mom’s thumb as the woman’s fingers gently smoothed over those tiny knuckles.
Seeing those little eyes close and stay that way, Callie exchanged her bouncing for a gentle back-and-forth sway, making sure to keep her little Bambina sedated. Her right hand stopped its circular motions on the baby’s back and hooked around the carrier to hug her Bean close. Her head came down to gently rest against the soft hairs on the baby's head that were just now starting to shed in earnest to allow the growth of more permanent strands; her other hand, meanwhile, kept its hold on that beloved little fist as she continued to sway, looking for all the world like she was dancing with the tiniest partner.
The door to the room suddenly swung open to reveal Mark with a chart in his hand, a nice change, Callie thought, from the tabloid magazines he liked to read on his breaks. That thought, however, flew out of her head quickly when she heard what the man was singing under his breath. It was the same song that he’d been humming, singing, mumbling, whispering - hell, even drumming out on the cafeteria tables - for the past six months, ever since she’d told him what she and Arizona were planning to name their baby girl.
“We gonna e-e-elope, to Me-e-exico,” he trailed off to slight grumbles and grunts of “huh-huh hmmm momma” as he licked a fingertip to turn a page then picked up at, “in love with a stripper, yo.”
Callie’s nostrils flared, her motherly instincts kicking in immediately, and she suddenly stopped swaying to throw daggers at Mark with her eyes.
Mark seemed to be too preoccupied with his file to notice another person in the room and only saw the brunette after walking into an untucked chair to make sure the rest of his journey would be accident free.
“Whoa! Jesus, Cal, warn a guy before you scare him half to death, will ya?” Mark said as he finally spotted his best friend.
“Oh, hey, you got the baby with you?” he asked, suddenly enamoured with the little one and missing the look of ire on her mother’s face as he tried to peek over the carrier that little Bambina was still small enough to hide in. He finally glanced up at Callie and took a step back in fear upon noticing her expression.
“Uh-oh,” he said under his breath. “What?”
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop singing that song, especially around my child, huh?” the fiery Latina stage whispered to keep from waking Bambina.
“I didn’t even know you were in here,” Mark defended with his hands out in front of him, matching Callie’s tone. If he made the baby cry now he’d surely be done for.
“Oh, so it’d be okay to sing it as long as it was behind my back?”
“How is this even my fault? You named your kid Bambina, of all things! It’s a stripper name! I have a kid named Sloan Sloan; when I can say something about a kid’s name, that should tell you something about it!” He was really digging a hole for himself now.
“I swear, Mark, if I didn’t have a sleeping infant strapped to me right now I would kick your ass, best friend or not!”
Callie’s eyes were wide with rage now.
“What? I always stop before I get to the chorus! And I leave out all the bad words. Plus, you just swore and the kid is strapped to you!”
Callie opened her mouth to refute that when the door to the lounge opened once more to reveal the person she’d been waiting for. Except that she was humming the same song, interspersed with the few lyrics she knew.
Arizona looked up from her phone and smiled widely at the sight of her two favourite girls. That smile quickly faded into a nervous smirk when she saw her girlfriend’s face: cheeks flushed, eyes bulging, lips tensed. Crap.
“Are we angry at Mark?” she tried, knowing well that Callie hated that song. When the brunette’s face remained seething but added an arch of her eyebrows, Arizona panicked. She pointed to the man beside her accusingly and said, “He started it!”
The brunette rolled her eyes at the two people she was closest to in the world. One was a baby (Mark) and the other a child (Arizona) then levelled the latter with a curious glare.
“Why do you know the words, anyway?”
Arizona laughed awkwardly and gave Mark a quick glance. “I had an interesting experience once…in med school. After that bio-chem final?”
Callie’s face went from annoyance to intrigue. “That time with the club and the table?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow and a sly smirk.
“Yep, that’s the one,” she confirmed. She glanced at Mark again and noted his levelled stare. He then shook his head slowly and allowed a smirk to crawl across his features.
“Nice,” he whispered.
Feeling more than a little uncomfortable now, the blonde tried to change the subject back to reason she was in this room to begin with. “So you’ve got Bean?” and took the few steps to stand next to her girlfriend and their sleeping baby. She ran her fingers gently along the arm that was sticking out of the carrier, enjoying its impossible smoothness, and placed a light kiss on her forehead. Bambina stirred slightly at the contact but quickly resettled against her momma’s chest, her little mouth falling agape then being retracted in a show of unease until she was able to find her top lip and suckle it momentarily in her slumber. Callie smiled widely at this show while Arizona cooed, leaning in for the tiniest of Eskimo kisses. The blonde couldn’t help but admire the little one’s features; they were so obviously inherited from her momma that she couldn’t deny the relation even if she’d wanted to. Her skin was lighter than Callie’s but showed signs that it would develop a wonderful creamy hue; her eyes were big and wide and still quite dark despite having lightened considerably and that tiny little nose was absolutely perfectly shaped and positioned on that equally perfect face with those adorable and expressive little eyebrows.
In the middle of the room, Mark cleared his throat to gain the women’s attention.
“So,” he started, “this table - what kind of club was it in, exactly, that this song is relevant to it?”
Both of the women’s faces dropped. At their silence, Mark thought it would be a good idea to continue. “Ten grand, let me see you shake it like you got no bones in your body,” he sang throatily, “come on, Cal, this should be your jam! You was made to be a cele-brity. Twenty grand I saw tears runnin’ down, type o’ tears that money couldn’t bu-uy-”
“Well that part’s just sad,” Arizona commented with a face.
“- just ‘cause she dances, loco, it don’t make her a -unh- no,” he continued as he got into it with a little dance and a shake of his shoulders while his best friend continued to glare at him.
“What? I didn’t say the bad word! Plus, she’s, like, four months old; she wouldn’t understand it anyway.”
“Okay, one,” Callie starts, “I’m an orthopaedic surgeon - I like bones - and two, those aren’t the right words nor are they in the right order. Stop singing it!” she commanded.
“Ah, come on, Torres, you used to be fun. And you know I love the little munchkin,” Mark said as he strutted over to them until he was within reach of the baby. He lifted his hand to run his palm gently over the baby’s head in a sign of affection but jumped back when Callie sidestepped and growled at him. Growled. Like, actually - like a tiger protecting her young or something.
“O-okay,” he said warily, retracting his hand in case she should decide that biting would be an acceptable response.
Noting the tension in the room and the way the other two were staring at each other, Arizona decided that this would be as good a time as any to jump in.
“So, Calliope, remember that raffle paeds was having for the tickets to the Mariners game tomorrow?” she asked with one calming hand on Callie’s arm and both eyes on a slowly retreating Mark. She didn’t get a response but figured she must’ve been heard anyway.
“Well I won. The game is tomorrow at 3 P.M. Think we could go?”
A few moments later when the Latina decided that Mark was a respectable distance from her non-stripper named daughter, she turned to the blonde.
“Tomorrow? Yeah, I have the day off but how are we gonna find a sitter on such short notice?”
While the women contemplated this, Mark stood several feet back from the duo, keeping a close eye on them. A few seconds later he raised his hand timidly like a grade-schooler and waited to be called upon.
Noticing his frightened look and raised palm, Callie acknowledged his presence with eyebrows raised in exasperation. “Yes, Mark?”
“I have the day off tomorrow, too,” he said sheepishly. Arizona looked at him confusedly.
“Are you trying to say that I should take you instead of my girlfriend and the mother of my child and leave her at home to take care of said child?”
“What? No!” he denied vehemently, shaking his head to make sure he got his point across. “No, I was just saying that I’d be able to watch her for a few hours if you wanted?” he finished awkwardly. That was a word that seemed to be popping up a lot in that lounge.
The couple talked it over in hushed whispers. While Callie had legitimate concerns with the arrangement at first, she and Arizona had just begun whispering conspiratorially for fun to drag out the process and watch Mark squirm in the moments that they would both glance over their shoulders at him. Eventually they turned to the man, Callie with stiff posture and Arizona with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
“We’ll drop her off at two so that we can get to the stadium on time,” the Latina said tersely then addressed the blonde: “I have to go drop her off now and get changed for my shift. See you tonight.” And with a quick kiss on the cheek she departed.
“Oh,and thanks, Mark,” she threw over her shoulder.
xxx
The next day Callie and Arizona had just gotten to their apartment door and were about to unlock it to be able to drop off their purses before collecting their daughter when they heard singing coming from the elevators.
“Just ‘cause she dances loco, it don’t make her a -unh- no.”
Callie pressed her forehead to her door momentarily. “For the love of God,” she mumbled.
Then the singing got louder. “Put your dance shoes on, we goin’ to the disco. We gonna e-e-elope, to Me-e-exico, called up my momma said I’m in love with a Bambina!”
“Stop it right now, Sloan, I know what comes after that!” Callie yelled down the hallway, causing a distracted Mark to trip over himself.
“What the hell, Callie!” he complained. Callie shoots daggers at him yet again for swearing in front of her baby who just happens to be strapped to his chest this time.
“Where are you coming from?” Arizona asked to break the tension. She may not have been his biggest fan but she kind of likes Wyclef Jean and his catchy beats. Not to mention that she’d prefer her girlfriend aneurism free.
“We went for a walk. I needed some adult interaction because while eating and napping are interesting and tiresome pastimes for a baby, they don’t do much for me in the way of mental stimulation.
“And, hey, she likes when I sing to her, Cal,” he argues for the thousandth time as he finally reached the women.
“Also, try not to trip me when I’m holding your baby,” he said pointedly then added, “Here, watch this.”
All eyes turned to Bambina as he started to sing to her again, picking up at a less than innocent lyric but toning it down for the sake of Callie - and his personal safety, “Thirty grand to the highest bidder but Chris Rock said there’s no love in the champagne room.” About four words into the song, little Bambina’s lips curled into a smile as her eyes fixated on Mark’s face. Her head shook with mirth and a little fatigue (holding your head up on your own is tiring, after all) but that smile stayed on her face as long as he kept singing.
“Oh my God, Arizona, look at her! I still can’t believe we got so lucky that she has a dimple,” Callie said as she pulled the blonde in for a quick kiss before scooping their Bean up to shower her with kisses, her little smile only growing in response to being held by her mother.
“Crack baby. This baby is a crack baby, I can’t let her go,” she cooed.
“Uh, Calliope, you probably shouldn’t call her that, even if that little face is super addictive,” Arizona reproved as she gently rubbed the back of her finger across that slowly deepening dimple.
Authors: clanket and roughian
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: PG
Summary: ♫ I ain't sayin' she's a pole dancer, but she ain't messin' with no club bouncer ♫ Callie will cut a bitch if he insults her little lady one more time! Bambina!verse one shot.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Callie stood in the attendings’ lounge on the third floor of Seattle Grace - Mercy West Hospital, the one closest to both the paediatrics wing and the hospital’s day care centre, bobbing her entire body up and down softly in the universal motion that was meant to keep babies calm. It seemed to be working by the looks of the half-asleep baby in her little carrier strapped to the Latina’s chest. One of the infant’s little arms was tucked in close to her body with her hand resting under her cheek which in turn rested on Callie’s bosom; her other tiny hand clutched her mom’s thumb as the woman’s fingers gently smoothed over those tiny knuckles.
Seeing those little eyes close and stay that way, Callie exchanged her bouncing for a gentle back-and-forth sway, making sure to keep her little Bambina sedated. Her right hand stopped its circular motions on the baby’s back and hooked around the carrier to hug her Bean close. Her head came down to gently rest against the soft hairs on the baby's head that were just now starting to shed in earnest to allow the growth of more permanent strands; her other hand, meanwhile, kept its hold on that beloved little fist as she continued to sway, looking for all the world like she was dancing with the tiniest partner.
The door to the room suddenly swung open to reveal Mark with a chart in his hand, a nice change, Callie thought, from the tabloid magazines he liked to read on his breaks. That thought, however, flew out of her head quickly when she heard what the man was singing under his breath. It was the same song that he’d been humming, singing, mumbling, whispering - hell, even drumming out on the cafeteria tables - for the past six months, ever since she’d told him what she and Arizona were planning to name their baby girl.
“We gonna e-e-elope, to Me-e-exico,” he trailed off to slight grumbles and grunts of “huh-huh hmmm momma” as he licked a fingertip to turn a page then picked up at, “in love with a stripper, yo.”
Callie’s nostrils flared, her motherly instincts kicking in immediately, and she suddenly stopped swaying to throw daggers at Mark with her eyes.
Mark seemed to be too preoccupied with his file to notice another person in the room and only saw the brunette after walking into an untucked chair to make sure the rest of his journey would be accident free.
“Whoa! Jesus, Cal, warn a guy before you scare him half to death, will ya?” Mark said as he finally spotted his best friend.
“Oh, hey, you got the baby with you?” he asked, suddenly enamoured with the little one and missing the look of ire on her mother’s face as he tried to peek over the carrier that little Bambina was still small enough to hide in. He finally glanced up at Callie and took a step back in fear upon noticing her expression.
“Uh-oh,” he said under his breath. “What?”
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop singing that song, especially around my child, huh?” the fiery Latina stage whispered to keep from waking Bambina.
“I didn’t even know you were in here,” Mark defended with his hands out in front of him, matching Callie’s tone. If he made the baby cry now he’d surely be done for.
“Oh, so it’d be okay to sing it as long as it was behind my back?”
“How is this even my fault? You named your kid Bambina, of all things! It’s a stripper name! I have a kid named Sloan Sloan; when I can say something about a kid’s name, that should tell you something about it!” He was really digging a hole for himself now.
“I swear, Mark, if I didn’t have a sleeping infant strapped to me right now I would kick your ass, best friend or not!”
Callie’s eyes were wide with rage now.
“What? I always stop before I get to the chorus! And I leave out all the bad words. Plus, you just swore and the kid is strapped to you!”
Callie opened her mouth to refute that when the door to the lounge opened once more to reveal the person she’d been waiting for. Except that she was humming the same song, interspersed with the few lyrics she knew.
Arizona looked up from her phone and smiled widely at the sight of her two favourite girls. That smile quickly faded into a nervous smirk when she saw her girlfriend’s face: cheeks flushed, eyes bulging, lips tensed. Crap.
“Are we angry at Mark?” she tried, knowing well that Callie hated that song. When the brunette’s face remained seething but added an arch of her eyebrows, Arizona panicked. She pointed to the man beside her accusingly and said, “He started it!”
The brunette rolled her eyes at the two people she was closest to in the world. One was a baby (Mark) and the other a child (Arizona) then levelled the latter with a curious glare.
“Why do you know the words, anyway?”
Arizona laughed awkwardly and gave Mark a quick glance. “I had an interesting experience once…in med school. After that bio-chem final?”
Callie’s face went from annoyance to intrigue. “That time with the club and the table?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow and a sly smirk.
“Yep, that’s the one,” she confirmed. She glanced at Mark again and noted his levelled stare. He then shook his head slowly and allowed a smirk to crawl across his features.
“Nice,” he whispered.
Feeling more than a little uncomfortable now, the blonde tried to change the subject back to reason she was in this room to begin with. “So you’ve got Bean?” and took the few steps to stand next to her girlfriend and their sleeping baby. She ran her fingers gently along the arm that was sticking out of the carrier, enjoying its impossible smoothness, and placed a light kiss on her forehead. Bambina stirred slightly at the contact but quickly resettled against her momma’s chest, her little mouth falling agape then being retracted in a show of unease until she was able to find her top lip and suckle it momentarily in her slumber. Callie smiled widely at this show while Arizona cooed, leaning in for the tiniest of Eskimo kisses. The blonde couldn’t help but admire the little one’s features; they were so obviously inherited from her momma that she couldn’t deny the relation even if she’d wanted to. Her skin was lighter than Callie’s but showed signs that it would develop a wonderful creamy hue; her eyes were big and wide and still quite dark despite having lightened considerably and that tiny little nose was absolutely perfectly shaped and positioned on that equally perfect face with those adorable and expressive little eyebrows.
In the middle of the room, Mark cleared his throat to gain the women’s attention.
“So,” he started, “this table - what kind of club was it in, exactly, that this song is relevant to it?”
Both of the women’s faces dropped. At their silence, Mark thought it would be a good idea to continue. “Ten grand, let me see you shake it like you got no bones in your body,” he sang throatily, “come on, Cal, this should be your jam! You was made to be a cele-brity. Twenty grand I saw tears runnin’ down, type o’ tears that money couldn’t bu-uy-”
“Well that part’s just sad,” Arizona commented with a face.
“- just ‘cause she dances, loco, it don’t make her a -unh- no,” he continued as he got into it with a little dance and a shake of his shoulders while his best friend continued to glare at him.
“What? I didn’t say the bad word! Plus, she’s, like, four months old; she wouldn’t understand it anyway.”
“Okay, one,” Callie starts, “I’m an orthopaedic surgeon - I like bones - and two, those aren’t the right words nor are they in the right order. Stop singing it!” she commanded.
“Ah, come on, Torres, you used to be fun. And you know I love the little munchkin,” Mark said as he strutted over to them until he was within reach of the baby. He lifted his hand to run his palm gently over the baby’s head in a sign of affection but jumped back when Callie sidestepped and growled at him. Growled. Like, actually - like a tiger protecting her young or something.
“O-okay,” he said warily, retracting his hand in case she should decide that biting would be an acceptable response.
Noting the tension in the room and the way the other two were staring at each other, Arizona decided that this would be as good a time as any to jump in.
“So, Calliope, remember that raffle paeds was having for the tickets to the Mariners game tomorrow?” she asked with one calming hand on Callie’s arm and both eyes on a slowly retreating Mark. She didn’t get a response but figured she must’ve been heard anyway.
“Well I won. The game is tomorrow at 3 P.M. Think we could go?”
A few moments later when the Latina decided that Mark was a respectable distance from her non-stripper named daughter, she turned to the blonde.
“Tomorrow? Yeah, I have the day off but how are we gonna find a sitter on such short notice?”
While the women contemplated this, Mark stood several feet back from the duo, keeping a close eye on them. A few seconds later he raised his hand timidly like a grade-schooler and waited to be called upon.
Noticing his frightened look and raised palm, Callie acknowledged his presence with eyebrows raised in exasperation. “Yes, Mark?”
“I have the day off tomorrow, too,” he said sheepishly. Arizona looked at him confusedly.
“Are you trying to say that I should take you instead of my girlfriend and the mother of my child and leave her at home to take care of said child?”
“What? No!” he denied vehemently, shaking his head to make sure he got his point across. “No, I was just saying that I’d be able to watch her for a few hours if you wanted?” he finished awkwardly. That was a word that seemed to be popping up a lot in that lounge.
The couple talked it over in hushed whispers. While Callie had legitimate concerns with the arrangement at first, she and Arizona had just begun whispering conspiratorially for fun to drag out the process and watch Mark squirm in the moments that they would both glance over their shoulders at him. Eventually they turned to the man, Callie with stiff posture and Arizona with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
“We’ll drop her off at two so that we can get to the stadium on time,” the Latina said tersely then addressed the blonde: “I have to go drop her off now and get changed for my shift. See you tonight.” And with a quick kiss on the cheek she departed.
“Oh,and thanks, Mark,” she threw over her shoulder.
xxx
The next day Callie and Arizona had just gotten to their apartment door and were about to unlock it to be able to drop off their purses before collecting their daughter when they heard singing coming from the elevators.
“Just ‘cause she dances loco, it don’t make her a -unh- no.”
Callie pressed her forehead to her door momentarily. “For the love of God,” she mumbled.
Then the singing got louder. “Put your dance shoes on, we goin’ to the disco. We gonna e-e-elope, to Me-e-exico, called up my momma said I’m in love with a Bambina!”
“Stop it right now, Sloan, I know what comes after that!” Callie yelled down the hallway, causing a distracted Mark to trip over himself.
“What the hell, Callie!” he complained. Callie shoots daggers at him yet again for swearing in front of her baby who just happens to be strapped to his chest this time.
“Where are you coming from?” Arizona asked to break the tension. She may not have been his biggest fan but she kind of likes Wyclef Jean and his catchy beats. Not to mention that she’d prefer her girlfriend aneurism free.
“We went for a walk. I needed some adult interaction because while eating and napping are interesting and tiresome pastimes for a baby, they don’t do much for me in the way of mental stimulation.
“And, hey, she likes when I sing to her, Cal,” he argues for the thousandth time as he finally reached the women.
“Also, try not to trip me when I’m holding your baby,” he said pointedly then added, “Here, watch this.”
All eyes turned to Bambina as he started to sing to her again, picking up at a less than innocent lyric but toning it down for the sake of Callie - and his personal safety, “Thirty grand to the highest bidder but Chris Rock said there’s no love in the champagne room.” About four words into the song, little Bambina’s lips curled into a smile as her eyes fixated on Mark’s face. Her head shook with mirth and a little fatigue (holding your head up on your own is tiring, after all) but that smile stayed on her face as long as he kept singing.
“Oh my God, Arizona, look at her! I still can’t believe we got so lucky that she has a dimple,” Callie said as she pulled the blonde in for a quick kiss before scooping their Bean up to shower her with kisses, her little smile only growing in response to being held by her mother.
“Crack baby. This baby is a crack baby, I can’t let her go,” she cooed.
“Uh, Calliope, you probably shouldn’t call her that, even if that little face is super addictive,” Arizona reproved as she gently rubbed the back of her finger across that slowly deepening dimple.