The Beaver Bin 2/3
Title: The Beaver Bin 2/?
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This is the second installment of story. Callie gets to the bar and meets Arizona's friends, and a certain someone from Arizona's past.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. At all. All characters belong to Shondaland.
A/N: This was a little bit tricky to write. There's a line that has to be drawn with just dumping in names for names sake. I remember learning this phrase called "Sometimes you have to cut your darlings" so a lot of names were cut out of this story because it was starting to sound like names being dropped for dropping's sake. Also, sorry this ends where it does, but my third chapter is already being worked on and I have a good bit of it already. Hope you like it. :) Thanks for all the lovely reviews and encouragement in the last chapter. I like making you ladies (and gents?) laugh.
Oh, here is Chapter One http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/1236001.html incase you missed it.
By the time Callie hailed a cab, directed the hardly-English-speaking driver up and down Seattle streets she wasn't even too familiar with herself, she reached the bar at 11:08. The facade suggested something covert. A blue painted building huddled into a street corner with thick, secure glass block windows and a large sign drilled into the wall that read “The Saloon.” From the humble roof hung a rainbow flag, and Callie pushed past the double doors and into the smoky pub.
Music hit her instantly, and she walked down a narrow corridor which gave way into the main bar area, crowded with bodies. It was different from most of the bars she went to, smaller, more cozy. She imagined it to be the lesbian equivalent to Cheers, where everybody knew your name. Except hers. Women gathered in what seemed like concentric circles around the place. Some were tall and tough, others short and feminine, and every shade in between. Some had their arms wrapped around another's shoulder, while the others were fighting in a corner, or brandishing pool sticks and laughing. After a preliminary scan, she could not find Arizona, and hurried into an empty seat up to the rectangular bar, flagging down a bartender who glanced at her over the rims of her squared glasses.
"For you, love?" She asked, smiling at Callie in a way that suggested she knew how to work that bartender magic.
"A shot of-no, two shots of Patron. And have you seen a blonde around here? Dimples, really pretty?”
As the bartender readied the simple order, she nodded. "Arizona? She said a pretty dark haired girl would be asking for her" She paused, grinned, and continued. "Yeah. She was over by Anna and Lindsey the last I saw her."
Anna and Lindsey, in Callie's mind, soon became two perfect replicas of the blonde woman’s ultimate crush, Detective Olivia Benson, chatting Arizona up in their leather jackets and fawning over her with their intelligence of the law and prowess of a fox. She could see Arizona listened to harrowing case files, while Benson(s) whispered things about Habeas Corpus into her ear and…
"Callie!" Came the familiar voice, followed by a hug from behind and a kiss to the back of her neck.
"Hi," Callie said, still holding both full shots of Patron, offering her girlfriend a weak, albeit relieved, smile.
"How'd your shoulder surgery go?" She asked, spinning Callie around on the bar stool, careful not to spill the shots. From the glint in her eye, Arizona was well on her way to drunk. It made Callie chuckle. Arizona Robbins was such a lightweight.
"Not bad at all. He should be fine. Just some recovery in front of him." Callie replied assuredly, feeling grossly under dressed as her eyes trailed over Arizona's whole ensemble. Those tight Lucky jeans with the fade along her thighs, that torso-hugging grey sweater with the plunging neckline, and her pretty Valentine’s day heart hanging on its dainty chain. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were smoky, and Callie almost wished they’d opted on making it a dinner and a movie night. She offered one of the shots to the woman, who set her gin and tonic to the side, and raised one of the miniature glasses.
"To us," She almost whispered in that way that made all the fine hairs on the back of Callie’s neck stand up, before raising the shot glass and taking it in tandem with her other half.
Both women recoiled, cursed, and took turns sipping from the gin and tonic on the bar. It was enough to get the taste out of their mouths.
"Gross." Callie murmured, realizing her taste for hard alcohol had dropped severely since she stopped drowning her sorrows so often.
"Oh, so gross." Arizona nodded, grimacing slightly.
"Ari, she does exist! We thought you were making her up." Came a voice, and then a very lively red head appeared, holding hands with a shorter brunette with a faux hawk. "I'm Anna, and this is Lindsey, my girlfriend. Arizona told us so much about you, but we just presumed it was all too good to be true. " She turned to Arizona, grinning at her. "But she's hot isn't she? You were so not kidding, Ari.” And quietly she mumbled to her girlfriend, “Damn shame she’s not a gold star…”
Callie blushed and smiled, knowing that the women weren't trying to make her feel less than, but instead welcome. It burned her cheeks in a way that she wasn't necessarily accustomed to. It was not all that weird to be called beautiful, but it was weird that she felt out of her element. Like a hangnail on the situation. That would just have to sit uncomfortably without risking getting ripped out prematurely. And what was a gold star anyway?
"Nope, she's definitely all real." Arizona said, admiring the woman in front of her with a wide grin.
======
What had started out as a date night turned into Callie dumping back glasses of wine too fast for the bartender to keep up with. She sat at a table for four which had continuously grown throughout the evening. Arizona served as candid host, hugging and kissing cheeks and grinning at old friends who all took this as a time to play catch up with the girl who had gone AWOL for months. Callie watched as women huddled into corners with soured grimaces, staring daggers into the back of Arizona’s blonde head as she spoke to her friends. It gave her a twinge of superiority, that was quickly snuffed out by the realization that she had absolutely nothing to contribute to the conversations unfolding around her.
“And okay…remember when you won that celebrity contest because you dressed up like Marilyn Monroe… and you had those stupid fake tits in and they fell out on the bar? And I think you only won because the wicked witch of the west chick puked all over your shoes.” Lindsey said, having trouble getting the story out in between breath-taking bouts of chuckles.
“Oh, yeah, that was not nearly as bad as when Arizona thought that she could sing Evanescence at karaoke that night…” Anna added, wiping a tear birthed from laughter from her eyes.
Rebecca, Vic, and Jen had also been in and out of conversation, adding their tidbits of Arizona trivia to the conversation.
"No no, the time when she wore her wheely shoes in here and almost broke her ankle dancing to the Cha-Cha slide was pretty good, too." Rebecca added, dryly smirking.
"Or when she danced on the bar to Pour Some Sugar On Me...then slipped." Vic chimed, winking toward Arizona.
"Oh, God. She got so wrecked. Her nose was so swollen from falling face forward," Jen chuckled, scrunching her own nose at the memory.
“Rude. So rude. You all are so rude. At least I didn’t get caught doing the deed in the alley next to the bar. How much was that citation again, Lindsey and Anna? Oh, and, Rebecca, let's get serious. I recall you splitting those Seven jeans you told us about for three weeks, while doing that same dance...right down the ass!" Arizona countered, laughing all the while. "And, Vic, I'm pretty sure you cannot talk miss I-fell-asleep-on-the-pool-table-cuddled-up-next-to- Jen, with your hand up her shirt!
Arizona’s cheeks were getting to that jovial shade of pink while her eyes started glossing over some. Her laugh had changed from infectious little tinker to louder than the music. Callie had somewhat enjoyed hearing the memories of Arizona, and noted to keep them to bring up later. Especially the Marilyn Monroe one. Hot. Everyone was laughing, including Callie, but she could only say, "That really happened?" "Really baby?" or "Oh, wow!" So many times without sounding like a broken parrot.
“So, Callie. You’re a doctor too, right?” Asked Lindsey, grinning and brushing elbows against Callie’s, then patting her on the shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. It felt a little contrived, but Callie wasn't sure she minded.
“Yeah, I’m in Orthopedics.” She replied, clearing her unused voice and smiling to the woman.
“No, no, no, Linds.” Arizona said, darting in. “Calliope is a fuckin’ rock star of Ortho. Seriously.” She grinned something fiercely goofy and looped her arms around Callie’s shoulders, pressing kisses just underneath her jaw bone.
“Arizona,” She chuckled, bashfully, looping her arm around Arizona’s waist.
Callie, who would normally take the opportunity to leap in with her cocky guns blazing, found this situation somewhat daunting for the second time this evening. Instead of blurting out the legs she built out of titanium, or the cartilage she made from scratch, and all the people she'd made walk again or utilize their arms, she sipped from her wine glass and wished it would somehow become Tequila and she would be back in the apartment with her legs over Arizona’s shoulders.
“Your full name’s Calliope?” Lindsey asked, laughing some and scrunching up her face so much that it made Callie want to dump her drink on that pretty chestnut hair of hers. “I would go by Callie too.”
Looking to her right for some kind of support from the woman that actually called her that on the regular, she noticed that she was not there. Instead, she’d been tugged away several yards and was standing with her back against the digital jukebox while another pretty blonde girl was chatting with her. It took her a few moments to process, but looked innocent enough for the time being.
A few of the women standing around the table began humming in harmonic convergence, upon noticing Arizona's new location, and formed what Callie thought looked like a football style huddle.
“Sammy… shit.” Muttered Lindsey, quarterbacking the situation, to Jen who turned around and nodded wordlessly toward where Arizona was standing, catching Vic and Rebecca’s eyes who decided to start up a game of pool with Anna. Two women over, who weren't even part of the table, began speaking in clandestine whispers upon realizing what was going on. It really did spread like wild fire. Or the plague. Or maybe a plague of wild fires.
“Do you think she knows she’s here with someone?” Lindsey asked Jen, who made a face that suggested anything but optimism.
“Does it even matter?” Jen asked, quietly, “Remember what happened last time?”
“God, that was a scene,” Anna commented, nervously rearranging the ice cubes in her glass with her cocktail straw.
“Seriously, I am surprised Sam’s allowed back in here.” Jen added after that.
At this, Callie’s interest grew into raw worry as she tapped Lindsey on her shoulder. “What happened with them?”
Upon realizing her folly, Lindsey's withdrawn features forcibly livened up. She put on a smile and wrapped her arm around Callie’s back. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Old news. Let’s take a shot!”
“Uh, no, you just said that- ”
“Look, they’re just talking.” Jen said, sidling up to the pair, arms slinging over both their shoulders. “Come on, shots on me.”
And like a faithful troupe, they all followed suit, lining up behind the bar waiting for a bartender. Despite their reassurance, Callie still had horrendous vibes coming from the woman standing near Arizona. Sure, she hadn’t had many relationships with women, but body language was all the same-- gay or straight. Needless to say, the blonde with the black glasses and hundred dollar highlight job was not fooling her at all. Arizona continued with her arms folded over her chest. Her eyebrows knitted together while her lips laid in a tight line, and Callie knew that look well. That look meant bad. Bad, bad, bad.
“Here we go!” Jen bellowed, pointing to the shots on the bar.
“To Arizona’s pretty new girlfriend!” Lindsey smiled, handing Callie her own shot.
All the glasses rose in the air and clinked together, sloshing the contents around before everyone tossed them back. Various degrees of disgusted faces overtook them as they cursed Jen in a collective mumble for buying them Snake Bites.
Callie never had a tolerance for whisky in any form, and when she was finished gagging glanced back behind her with growing concern. She watched as Arizona shook her head and screwed up her face enough to almost start crying, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was the last straw. She brushed past Lindsey, undaunted by her warning calls. Arizona then turned her face away from the woman who was clearly shouting at her and shook her head again, making a gesture that looked almost pleading. Callie’s heart was in her throat. She would have to restrain herself from throttling this women. Arizona once described her as the girl that liked to shoot first and ask questions later. But that impulse is what fueled her there in the first place. Their connection, their vibe, their love was palpable to Callie. And when Arizona hurt, she could feel it. It tore her up, and she would always do whatever she could to rectify that.
Callie would have gotten to Arizona undeterred, but in her field of vision came a rather masculine woman with a green polo shirt tucked into her faded Levi’s, held in place by a braided belt that matched the shade of her workman boots. Her fingers were wrapped around a bottle of Stella Artois and her other hand grabbed Callie by the elbow, smiling drunkenly at her. She seemed a little older than the rest of the women in the bar, and far more self-assured with the help of her liquid courage.
“Well, who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.” The woman said, eyeing Callie with a look she’d seen once or twice from Mark Sloan.
“Callie, and I need to go over there…” She blurted, trying to get away from the woman, who still had her by the elbow.
“Ohhh Callie, I’m Elaine, and…no use. Those two can go for a long time…” The woman said, smirking knowingly. “Now can I buy you a dri--?”
“That’s my girlfriend, and I want to speak to her. Thank you but no thank you for the drink.” Callie snapped, pulling her elbow out of its hold. “And you shouldn’t just grab people by their elbows. That’s rude.”
“Your girlfriend?” The woman said and turned around, “Then you’ll want to get over there…” She nodded and walked away, effectively making Callie wonder if she’d vomit on the spot, or be able to hold it down until after she gave Arizona’s cry-face-maker a piece of her mind.
When Callie finally made it over to the pair, she opened her mouth, beginning to ask if everything was alright. Right in the nick of time it seemed, as Sammy pushed against Arizona’s shoulder hard enough for it to ricochet off of the jukebox audibly. That was it. Callie marched over to Sammy, but before she could get out the slew of curses lurking behind her clenched jaw, Sammy darted out of the way.
Just in time for the contents of Arizona’s gin and tonic to end up all over Callie’s face.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This is the second installment of story. Callie gets to the bar and meets Arizona's friends, and a certain someone from Arizona's past.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. At all. All characters belong to Shondaland.
A/N: This was a little bit tricky to write. There's a line that has to be drawn with just dumping in names for names sake. I remember learning this phrase called "Sometimes you have to cut your darlings" so a lot of names were cut out of this story because it was starting to sound like names being dropped for dropping's sake. Also, sorry this ends where it does, but my third chapter is already being worked on and I have a good bit of it already. Hope you like it. :) Thanks for all the lovely reviews and encouragement in the last chapter. I like making you ladies (and gents?) laugh.
Oh, here is Chapter One http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/1236001.html incase you missed it.
By the time Callie hailed a cab, directed the hardly-English-speaking driver up and down Seattle streets she wasn't even too familiar with herself, she reached the bar at 11:08. The facade suggested something covert. A blue painted building huddled into a street corner with thick, secure glass block windows and a large sign drilled into the wall that read “The Saloon.” From the humble roof hung a rainbow flag, and Callie pushed past the double doors and into the smoky pub.
Music hit her instantly, and she walked down a narrow corridor which gave way into the main bar area, crowded with bodies. It was different from most of the bars she went to, smaller, more cozy. She imagined it to be the lesbian equivalent to Cheers, where everybody knew your name. Except hers. Women gathered in what seemed like concentric circles around the place. Some were tall and tough, others short and feminine, and every shade in between. Some had their arms wrapped around another's shoulder, while the others were fighting in a corner, or brandishing pool sticks and laughing. After a preliminary scan, she could not find Arizona, and hurried into an empty seat up to the rectangular bar, flagging down a bartender who glanced at her over the rims of her squared glasses.
"For you, love?" She asked, smiling at Callie in a way that suggested she knew how to work that bartender magic.
"A shot of-no, two shots of Patron. And have you seen a blonde around here? Dimples, really pretty?”
As the bartender readied the simple order, she nodded. "Arizona? She said a pretty dark haired girl would be asking for her" She paused, grinned, and continued. "Yeah. She was over by Anna and Lindsey the last I saw her."
Anna and Lindsey, in Callie's mind, soon became two perfect replicas of the blonde woman’s ultimate crush, Detective Olivia Benson, chatting Arizona up in their leather jackets and fawning over her with their intelligence of the law and prowess of a fox. She could see Arizona listened to harrowing case files, while Benson(s) whispered things about Habeas Corpus into her ear and…
"Callie!" Came the familiar voice, followed by a hug from behind and a kiss to the back of her neck.
"Hi," Callie said, still holding both full shots of Patron, offering her girlfriend a weak, albeit relieved, smile.
"How'd your shoulder surgery go?" She asked, spinning Callie around on the bar stool, careful not to spill the shots. From the glint in her eye, Arizona was well on her way to drunk. It made Callie chuckle. Arizona Robbins was such a lightweight.
"Not bad at all. He should be fine. Just some recovery in front of him." Callie replied assuredly, feeling grossly under dressed as her eyes trailed over Arizona's whole ensemble. Those tight Lucky jeans with the fade along her thighs, that torso-hugging grey sweater with the plunging neckline, and her pretty Valentine’s day heart hanging on its dainty chain. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were smoky, and Callie almost wished they’d opted on making it a dinner and a movie night. She offered one of the shots to the woman, who set her gin and tonic to the side, and raised one of the miniature glasses.
"To us," She almost whispered in that way that made all the fine hairs on the back of Callie’s neck stand up, before raising the shot glass and taking it in tandem with her other half.
Both women recoiled, cursed, and took turns sipping from the gin and tonic on the bar. It was enough to get the taste out of their mouths.
"Gross." Callie murmured, realizing her taste for hard alcohol had dropped severely since she stopped drowning her sorrows so often.
"Oh, so gross." Arizona nodded, grimacing slightly.
"Ari, she does exist! We thought you were making her up." Came a voice, and then a very lively red head appeared, holding hands with a shorter brunette with a faux hawk. "I'm Anna, and this is Lindsey, my girlfriend. Arizona told us so much about you, but we just presumed it was all too good to be true. " She turned to Arizona, grinning at her. "But she's hot isn't she? You were so not kidding, Ari.” And quietly she mumbled to her girlfriend, “Damn shame she’s not a gold star…”
Callie blushed and smiled, knowing that the women weren't trying to make her feel less than, but instead welcome. It burned her cheeks in a way that she wasn't necessarily accustomed to. It was not all that weird to be called beautiful, but it was weird that she felt out of her element. Like a hangnail on the situation. That would just have to sit uncomfortably without risking getting ripped out prematurely. And what was a gold star anyway?
"Nope, she's definitely all real." Arizona said, admiring the woman in front of her with a wide grin.
======
What had started out as a date night turned into Callie dumping back glasses of wine too fast for the bartender to keep up with. She sat at a table for four which had continuously grown throughout the evening. Arizona served as candid host, hugging and kissing cheeks and grinning at old friends who all took this as a time to play catch up with the girl who had gone AWOL for months. Callie watched as women huddled into corners with soured grimaces, staring daggers into the back of Arizona’s blonde head as she spoke to her friends. It gave her a twinge of superiority, that was quickly snuffed out by the realization that she had absolutely nothing to contribute to the conversations unfolding around her.
“And okay…remember when you won that celebrity contest because you dressed up like Marilyn Monroe… and you had those stupid fake tits in and they fell out on the bar? And I think you only won because the wicked witch of the west chick puked all over your shoes.” Lindsey said, having trouble getting the story out in between breath-taking bouts of chuckles.
“Oh, yeah, that was not nearly as bad as when Arizona thought that she could sing Evanescence at karaoke that night…” Anna added, wiping a tear birthed from laughter from her eyes.
Rebecca, Vic, and Jen had also been in and out of conversation, adding their tidbits of Arizona trivia to the conversation.
"No no, the time when she wore her wheely shoes in here and almost broke her ankle dancing to the Cha-Cha slide was pretty good, too." Rebecca added, dryly smirking.
"Or when she danced on the bar to Pour Some Sugar On Me...then slipped." Vic chimed, winking toward Arizona.
"Oh, God. She got so wrecked. Her nose was so swollen from falling face forward," Jen chuckled, scrunching her own nose at the memory.
“Rude. So rude. You all are so rude. At least I didn’t get caught doing the deed in the alley next to the bar. How much was that citation again, Lindsey and Anna? Oh, and, Rebecca, let's get serious. I recall you splitting those Seven jeans you told us about for three weeks, while doing that same dance...right down the ass!" Arizona countered, laughing all the while. "And, Vic, I'm pretty sure you cannot talk miss I-fell-asleep-on-the-pool-table-cuddled-up-next-to- Jen, with your hand up her shirt!
Arizona’s cheeks were getting to that jovial shade of pink while her eyes started glossing over some. Her laugh had changed from infectious little tinker to louder than the music. Callie had somewhat enjoyed hearing the memories of Arizona, and noted to keep them to bring up later. Especially the Marilyn Monroe one. Hot. Everyone was laughing, including Callie, but she could only say, "That really happened?" "Really baby?" or "Oh, wow!" So many times without sounding like a broken parrot.
“So, Callie. You’re a doctor too, right?” Asked Lindsey, grinning and brushing elbows against Callie’s, then patting her on the shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. It felt a little contrived, but Callie wasn't sure she minded.
“Yeah, I’m in Orthopedics.” She replied, clearing her unused voice and smiling to the woman.
“No, no, no, Linds.” Arizona said, darting in. “Calliope is a fuckin’ rock star of Ortho. Seriously.” She grinned something fiercely goofy and looped her arms around Callie’s shoulders, pressing kisses just underneath her jaw bone.
“Arizona,” She chuckled, bashfully, looping her arm around Arizona’s waist.
Callie, who would normally take the opportunity to leap in with her cocky guns blazing, found this situation somewhat daunting for the second time this evening. Instead of blurting out the legs she built out of titanium, or the cartilage she made from scratch, and all the people she'd made walk again or utilize their arms, she sipped from her wine glass and wished it would somehow become Tequila and she would be back in the apartment with her legs over Arizona’s shoulders.
“Your full name’s Calliope?” Lindsey asked, laughing some and scrunching up her face so much that it made Callie want to dump her drink on that pretty chestnut hair of hers. “I would go by Callie too.”
Looking to her right for some kind of support from the woman that actually called her that on the regular, she noticed that she was not there. Instead, she’d been tugged away several yards and was standing with her back against the digital jukebox while another pretty blonde girl was chatting with her. It took her a few moments to process, but looked innocent enough for the time being.
A few of the women standing around the table began humming in harmonic convergence, upon noticing Arizona's new location, and formed what Callie thought looked like a football style huddle.
“Sammy… shit.” Muttered Lindsey, quarterbacking the situation, to Jen who turned around and nodded wordlessly toward where Arizona was standing, catching Vic and Rebecca’s eyes who decided to start up a game of pool with Anna. Two women over, who weren't even part of the table, began speaking in clandestine whispers upon realizing what was going on. It really did spread like wild fire. Or the plague. Or maybe a plague of wild fires.
“Do you think she knows she’s here with someone?” Lindsey asked Jen, who made a face that suggested anything but optimism.
“Does it even matter?” Jen asked, quietly, “Remember what happened last time?”
“God, that was a scene,” Anna commented, nervously rearranging the ice cubes in her glass with her cocktail straw.
“Seriously, I am surprised Sam’s allowed back in here.” Jen added after that.
At this, Callie’s interest grew into raw worry as she tapped Lindsey on her shoulder. “What happened with them?”
Upon realizing her folly, Lindsey's withdrawn features forcibly livened up. She put on a smile and wrapped her arm around Callie’s back. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Old news. Let’s take a shot!”
“Uh, no, you just said that- ”
“Look, they’re just talking.” Jen said, sidling up to the pair, arms slinging over both their shoulders. “Come on, shots on me.”
And like a faithful troupe, they all followed suit, lining up behind the bar waiting for a bartender. Despite their reassurance, Callie still had horrendous vibes coming from the woman standing near Arizona. Sure, she hadn’t had many relationships with women, but body language was all the same-- gay or straight. Needless to say, the blonde with the black glasses and hundred dollar highlight job was not fooling her at all. Arizona continued with her arms folded over her chest. Her eyebrows knitted together while her lips laid in a tight line, and Callie knew that look well. That look meant bad. Bad, bad, bad.
“Here we go!” Jen bellowed, pointing to the shots on the bar.
“To Arizona’s pretty new girlfriend!” Lindsey smiled, handing Callie her own shot.
All the glasses rose in the air and clinked together, sloshing the contents around before everyone tossed them back. Various degrees of disgusted faces overtook them as they cursed Jen in a collective mumble for buying them Snake Bites.
Callie never had a tolerance for whisky in any form, and when she was finished gagging glanced back behind her with growing concern. She watched as Arizona shook her head and screwed up her face enough to almost start crying, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was the last straw. She brushed past Lindsey, undaunted by her warning calls. Arizona then turned her face away from the woman who was clearly shouting at her and shook her head again, making a gesture that looked almost pleading. Callie’s heart was in her throat. She would have to restrain herself from throttling this women. Arizona once described her as the girl that liked to shoot first and ask questions later. But that impulse is what fueled her there in the first place. Their connection, their vibe, their love was palpable to Callie. And when Arizona hurt, she could feel it. It tore her up, and she would always do whatever she could to rectify that.
Callie would have gotten to Arizona undeterred, but in her field of vision came a rather masculine woman with a green polo shirt tucked into her faded Levi’s, held in place by a braided belt that matched the shade of her workman boots. Her fingers were wrapped around a bottle of Stella Artois and her other hand grabbed Callie by the elbow, smiling drunkenly at her. She seemed a little older than the rest of the women in the bar, and far more self-assured with the help of her liquid courage.
“Well, who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.” The woman said, eyeing Callie with a look she’d seen once or twice from Mark Sloan.
“Callie, and I need to go over there…” She blurted, trying to get away from the woman, who still had her by the elbow.
“Ohhh Callie, I’m Elaine, and…no use. Those two can go for a long time…” The woman said, smirking knowingly. “Now can I buy you a dri--?”
“That’s my girlfriend, and I want to speak to her. Thank you but no thank you for the drink.” Callie snapped, pulling her elbow out of its hold. “And you shouldn’t just grab people by their elbows. That’s rude.”
“Your girlfriend?” The woman said and turned around, “Then you’ll want to get over there…” She nodded and walked away, effectively making Callie wonder if she’d vomit on the spot, or be able to hold it down until after she gave Arizona’s cry-face-maker a piece of her mind.
When Callie finally made it over to the pair, she opened her mouth, beginning to ask if everything was alright. Right in the nick of time it seemed, as Sammy pushed against Arizona’s shoulder hard enough for it to ricochet off of the jukebox audibly. That was it. Callie marched over to Sammy, but before she could get out the slew of curses lurking behind her clenched jaw, Sammy darted out of the way.
Just in time for the contents of Arizona’s gin and tonic to end up all over Callie’s face.