Fanfic: It Happens
Title: It Happens
Author: elpmas03
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
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 libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Summary: Somehow this idea managed to pop into my head…I don’t know, I don’t ask questions anymore. It’s an alternative story to Callie’s chicken pox fiasco that involves some funny craziness. Sorry for any mistakes, I wrote it pretty quickly. Enjoy!
Arizona
I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but usually…Callie Torres is not “cute”. Don’t get me wrong, she has those moments where a quiet, girly giggle or the happy dance come out to play, but for the most part, she’s more of a smoldering, sexy, confident woman. She doesn’t do cute things like rainbows or puppies; she tolerates them…she tolerates them for me, really, but what I’m trying to say is that it’s not often I watch her and think about how adorable she looks. That is, up until now. Up until a few minutes ago when I walked upon probably the most adorable, yet pitiful sight I’ve ever seen-sexy, sensual, Callie Torres squirming in her bed to try and itch away the annoying case of chicken pox she somehow contracted. I’ll admit, I feel a little guilt over her dilemma since she probably got it from spending so much time in the peds unit with me, but all I can do right now is giggle quietly as I watch her through the glass.
I quickly tuck that adoring smile away when she finally notices me and sends me the death glare of all death glares. I give her a sheepish smirk and slide the glass open, take a step inside, and closing it behind me.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get diseased?” she groans sarcastically, sitting up and letting out a frustrated sigh.
“I’m not here for long,” I respond, feeling another twinge of guilt when I think about the fact that I’m fibbing a little…only a little. “I just came to check up on you.”
“Hm…let’s see,” she starts and I already roll my eyes at what I know is coming. “I still have chicken pox. I am still sitting here…all alone…with nobody to talk to-“
“Actually!” I interrupt her and watch as a tiny glimmer of hope flashes across her eyes when she mistakes where I’m going with this. “Oh, no, I’m not staying-“
Like a flip of the switch, her mood changes from excited back to disappointed in a matter of seconds. But, a flash of the dimples cures everything.
“-sorry,” I mutter and give her another smile before continuing. “But, I do have a little surprise for you.”
I take a few steps backwards, turn around, and slide the door open. I step into the hallway and wave my hand for her surprise to come forward; there’s that cuteness again-she’s looking at me like it’s Christmas morning and she can’t wait to open her present. But when her surprise finally does pop into her view, the excitement quickly fades.
“This,” I announce, resting my hands on the shoulders of the tiny boy in front of me. “This is Zachary…Zachary say hi to Dr. Torres.”
“Hi,” the 8-year-old mutters, scratching his stomach before I pull his hand away.
I look up expectantly at Callie and wait for her to greet him back; instead, I’m met with one of those looks that shouts ‘Are you kidding me?’
“Dr. Torres say hi to Zachary,” I warn her.
She looks between me and the little boy a few times in astonishment before answering.
“Hi,” she mumbles quietly, cringing at the way he can’t stop itching the tiny red spots plaguing his body.
“Zachary has chicken pox,” I say simply and watch as another wave of realization hits her.
“Arizona-“
“Zachary-” I ignore her, raising my voice to effectively cut her off. “-is lonely and his parents are hard-working teachers who can’t be with him today, sooo…I thought you could keep each other company.”
Callie’s mouth drops open and she immediately looks down to watch as he swipes the back of his hand across his nose and sniffs. She cocks her head and smiles pleasantly-fake, but pleasant, nonetheless-at the impatient red-headed boy still leaning against my legs.
“Zachary,” Callie says sweetly, bending forward a little so she can reach his eye level. “You know when you’re watching a movie and your Mommy and Daddy tell you to plug your ears for the bad words?”
He nods sharply and pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose afterward. Callie smiles and laughs a little too pleasantly this time.
“Could you do that for me, for just one minute?” she asks, holding up her index finger to demonstrate what she means.
As soon as his fingers push into his ears, she lets loose.
“Arizona Robbins-“
“Look, I know, I know what you’re going to say and you’re going to yell at me, but he doesn’t have anyone else to hang out with today,” I try to reason with her, but she just continues to narrow her eyes into slits. “Please, just for today, just keep him company.”
“Arizona, I am not sitting her like an animal, locked up in confinement with a 6-year-old-“
“He’s 8,” I correct her and instantly snap my mouth shut when I realize I did it out loud.
“-8-year-old…” she corrects herself through gritted teeth before continuing. “…who looks like one of the kids from Rugrats.”
I smile involuntarily at the Nickelodeon reference and push my lips together when I realize that she can actually see what I’m doing. I reach down and pull Zachary’s fingers out of his ears, hoping my last resort will work here.
“Please,” I whine, flashing another smile. “Zachary, don’t you want to spend the day with Callie, here.”
He turns to face her again and nods his head, muttering a soft and sad ‘please’, just like we practiced. She instantly melts and glances up to me as if begging me to make him stop. I just shrug my shoulders and ruffle his red hair a little. I can almost see the defeat dance across her face when she rolls her eyes and sighs.
“Yay!” I squeal, pushing Zachary toward Callie. “I’ll be back in a while to check on you two. Don’t get too crazy.”
“Wait, Arizona,” she calls after me as I walk to the other side of the glass.
“Yep, mmhmm! Love you, bye,” I ignore her calling after me and shut the glass, giving one last bright smile before walking away, triumphantly.
Callie
Normally, I’m great with kids; I love kids, in fact. I know how to talk to them, how to play with them, how to get them to listen. But, this kid? This kid has been staring at me since Arizona left…ten minutes ago. Just staring. And it’s kind creepy; like Hannibal Lector creepy. Minus the fact that he’s an 8-year-old who I’m fairly certain my girlfriend wouldn’t leave me locked up in a room with if he wanted to eat me-that’s not the point, I’m getting off track. The point is that he’s been staring at me, dead silent, while I fidget against the wall, trying desperately to relieve this constant pain.
“So, Zachary,” I finally speak, praying that it will make him stop looking at me. “What grade are you in?”
Nothing. He says nothing. In fact, he doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken. He just reaches up and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, just as he’s been doing every 30 seconds. I scrunch up my eyebrows and take a minute to study him over-he has bright red hair, dark red freckles mixed in with his chicken pox, and big green eyes. His Toy Story pajamas are pretty kick ass, if I do say so myself, and he’s wearing dark blue-no, wait…are those? She would buy him those stupid sneakers.
My concentration is broken when I hear the glass door slide open and feel the relief that she’s back already wash over my body. When I look up, however, I see probably the last person I expected to be here.
“Christina,” I announce her presence with a mixed expression of surprise and relief.
“Blondie wanted me to bring you two some stupid games,” she mumbles, holding up her hand briefly to reveal a few board games. “I’m not her servant, you know.”
She walks into the room and sets the games down on the bed next to Zachary; she hesitates and stutter-steps when she gets close to him, almost as if he’ll bite her if she enters his space. He simply sits there, pushes his glasses up, and stares at her.
“He’s weird,” Christina mumbles quietly as soon as she’s close enough to me.
“I know,” I say under my breath. “I’ve asked him like ten times what grade he’s in and what he wants to do, but he just keeps staring at me.”
“Oh, I think he’s making a move,” she mumbles and leans backward against the wall next to me.
We both watch as Zachary slowly tears into the box of Battleship and looks over the tiny pieces.
“He’s not gonna choke on those or anything, right? Because I’m not getting in trouble with your girlfriend for that,” she says defensively.
“He’s not a puppy, he’s 8 years old, I think he knows not to eat tiny game pieces by now-“
I stop reassuring her as I watch him bring one of the pegs to his mouth and quickly lunge forward.
“Whoa!” I yell, grabbing the piece out of his hand just in time. “No, no, let’s not eat these.”
He keeps eye contact and brings another peg to his mouth before I take it away again.
“Zachary,” I say his name with authority, trying to get him to listen to me; he continues to bring more white and red pieces to his mouth just for me to pull them away.
“Have fun,” I hear Christina snort from behind me followed by the sound of the glass door closing again.
“Zachary,” I hiss his name a little more forcefully this time. “Please, stop putting those in your mouth.”
We continue to struggle until he suddenly stops and stays still for a moment. He looks down at the tray full of pegs and ships on the bed and before I can stop him, he slaps the edge of the plastic container and watches as the pieces fall everywhere. I close my eyes tightly and take a deep breath before opening them to the sight of the most devilish grin I’ve ever seen spread across the face of the little boy in front of me. He stands up on the bed quickly and begins to bounce up and down, kicking the other games to the floor and watching as the mess he makes continues to grow.
“No-Hey-Stop it-Wait, don’t do that!” I yell, diving after him as he makes his way for the monitors on the other side of the bed.
I catch him just in time before he reaches the monitor buttons, but I’m not quick enough-he bounces in front of the big blue button and stands there, watching me triumphantly.
“Okay, Zachary,” I say softly, trying desperately to control my anger. “Please, don’t push that button.”
A Grinch-like grin stretches across his lips before he slams his hand against the button and I immediately let my frustrations loose. As the siren rings through the hallway, I reach across the bed to grab him, but he scurries away from me and watches concerned hospital faces appear. They all know I’m in here, which is why there are so many of them, and although it would make me feel loved any other time, I want nothing more than to kick the butt of the little boy hiding in the corner.
Arizona
“Hey, how’s-“ I stop as soon as I slide the glass door open and see the wreck before me.”-it going.”
There are board game pieces, blankets and pillows, hospital magazines, and a few of Callie’s clothes scattered across the bed, the floor, the lounge chair, you name it. Before I can say anything else, a stream of jet black hair comes rushing toward me. I can’t help but back away defensively when I see how angry she looks.
“Remember when I said I was going to kill you before? For making me stay here?” she asks and makes it known these are not rhetorical questions. I nod quickly and gulp back the fear rising in my throat. “Yeah, well…now, I’m going to kill you.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I plead, raising my hands defensively and backing myself into the wall behind me. “Come on, he’s just a kid. It can’t be that-“
I pause when I see Zachary come out of the bathroom, holding a bed pan in one hand and a bottle of juice in the other. He slowly pours the contents of his juice into the bed pan and his eyes light up like a Christmas tree.
“-bad.”
“Just…a kid?” she hisses and takes a step forward. “No, no…he’s not just a kid. He’s the devil…in the body of an 8-year-old and he is driving me insane.”
“At least you’re not scratching,” I joke and let out a forced chuckle; she’s not amused.
“Get him. Out of here,” Callie groans through gritted teeth and I immediately spring into action.
“Okay, Zachary, time to let Dr. Torres take her nap,” I announce shakily, still aware of the narrowed brown eyes fixed on me.
He seems to snap out of his focus at the sound of my voice and drops the pan full of juice to the floor, stepping over the liquid as if it’s not there. I cringe when I see the purple liquid hit the floor and hear the deep sigh from my girlfriend next to me.
“I’ll get someone to clean that up,” I mutter as I push the little boy out the door and close it just in time before Callie can yell at me.
*********************************************************************************************
I pace back and forth outside of Callie’s room, watching as she squirms every now and then in her bed. It takes a good pep talk from Lexie and countless deep breaths before I work up the courage to open the door and step inside. I learn forward and kiss her temple gently, closing my eyes as I wait for her to hit me or something.
“What are you doing?” she mumbles sleepily. “You’ll get the chicken pox.”
I shrug my shoulders and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close to me. “So…I get the chicken pox.”
She lets out a deep, content sigh and I take the opportunity to plant a few kisses on her shoulder and in her hair, amazed that I’m not being scolded after Zachary’s visit from earlier. I celebrate too early though.
“This doesn’t make up for that little rat you stuck me with earlier,” she groans and pulls my arm tighter around her waist.
“Are you going to hurt me?” I mumble quietly and bury my face in her hair. She snorts and tries to hold back the laughter, but I know I’ve gotten to her now. I always do.
“Not today, at least,” she replies. “I can think of a way for you to make it up to me, though.”
I lift my head up from her hair and raise my eyebrows in surprise.
“You mean…here?” I ask, my voice raising a few octaves just from the idea of her suggestion.
“Mhmm,” she mumbles and turns on her other side so she’s facing me. She brings her lips just out of reach of mine and runs her hand up the side of my body, scratching her nails underneath my scrubs and against my already tingling skin.
I let out a content sigh, but her hand suddenly stops and I peek out of one eye, trying to figure out why.
“Could you make sure to get my back, too. It’s been bothering me all day,” she whispers and lets a cocky grin spread across her lips.
I just roll my eyes, flip onto my side again, and start my punishment.