Something Old, Something New (Chapter 2 of ?)
Something Old, Something New (Chapter 2 of ?)
Authors: Roughian and ForeverLeyton
Rating: R this time, no matter how badly we wanted to push it to NC-17.
Fandom: Crossover: Rizzoli and Isles/Callie and Arizona
Summary: Callie and Arizona head to Boston for the wedding of Arizona's long time best friend. But Bean Town is not as receptive as they expected: Callie meets Arizona’s favorite ex; Maura’s got an itch Jane wants to scratch. Oh, and there’s a murder, too.
A/N ForeverLeyton: Yep, only a day between updates. We can’t promise every update will happen so quickly (we both have to work eventually, after all) but suffice it to say we are as excited about this fic as you all seem to be. Also, to taintedidealist, Roughian will add her own thanks, but a personal (and belated) thank you from me. Your very-helpful e-mail on partner writing helped us start one of the most entertaining writing processes I’ve experienced. Thank you, sincerely!
A/N roughian: Thanks for all your feedback, we’re loving it. We’re having a blast, and we hope you guys are too. Thanks, also, to taintedidealist. Very awesome of you to share with us your ways of awesomeness.
______________________________
The sound of distant ringing jarred Jane out of one of the most peaceful night's sleep she'd had in years. The detective was in the same spot she'd fallen asleep in, duvet and sheets cocooning around her in an indulgently comfortable nest. One eye opened, spying the blurry 8:34 on the digital clock. Whomever this was, it'd better be good.
Her hand felt around the nightstand, gently pushing aside her badge and gun to get to her phone. She answered it, and then tucked both arms back under the covers, letting the phone balance against the side of her head that wasn't buried in the pillow.
"Rizzoli," the brunette croaked.
"Jane, are you sleeping? I'm sorry."
"Not sleepin' if I'm talking to you, Maura. If I could do that I'd be much more pleasant at work."
Maura laughed. "I was calling to ask if you're sure you wouldn't like to come with me to the wedding. It's an open bar. I'm sure they'll have your beer there."
"Mm, no more bribing me to go to fancy functions with food and booze, Maur. Need I remind you of the fish knife incident?"
The ME grimaced. "No, you need not."
"Besides, it's poker night at Korsak's and Frost cleaned up last week. I need to show that little shit who's boss."
Maura sighed. "Suit yourself. It was a lovely rehearsal dinner. You would have really gotten along well with Becca's fiancé. He enjoys baseball and whisky. And he talks with his hands, kind of like your mother has a tendency to do."
Jane wrinkled her brows. "Thanks, I think. Glad your party was nice." She paused for a moment, waking up a little faster with the memory of Maura's news. "And how was your uh, old pal, Carolina?"
"Very funny, Jane. Arizona was well. So was her new wife. I think you would have liked her, too."
“The wife? Or your former Sapphic lov-uh, girlfriend?” Jane was teasing but she still couldn’t bring herself to use the word lover. Not about Maura and another woman, for God’s sake.
“Callie, Arizona’s wife,” Maura answered. “Though you’d probably like Arizona as well, after a while.”
“After a while?”
“Yes, well, she’s…peppy, I suppose you would say. It takes some people a while to get used to her. But her wife, Callie, she’s…I can’t describe it but in a way she reminds me of you. Booming laugh and she’s a lot of fun but there seems to be…a bit of an edge to her. Like there is with you.”
“So, basically, you’re saying she’s a bad ass?”
Maura laughed and Jane could hear the scratch of her earring against the phone as she nodded her head in agreement. “I guess you could call her that. If you came to the wedding, you would see for yourself.”
“Poker night,” Jane reminded her, rolling over in bed and brushing long curls out of her face. “Now, stop stalling, Maur. You know what I want to know.”
“I don’t read minds, Jane,” Maura replied primly, even they both knew she was absolutely certain what Jane wanted to discuss.
“Uh huh. You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I think I will.”
“Fine. So. You, uh, you…and her…and, um, shit.”
“It’s not that difficult, Jane. You told me once your favorite cousin on your father’s side is homosexual. I know you’re not homophobic.”
“Hey, whoa! This isn’t about Sal and his string of boyfriends. It’s not even about being gay, which…I mean…are you?” But before Maura could respond to that question, Jane hurried on. “No. It’s not about that. It’s about you and…and a girl.”
"I' don't define myself by society's constructs for sexuality. I suppose some would say I'm bisexual, but I prefer to let love happen regardless of the sex," Maura responded, smirking into the phone. She enjoyed flustering the brunette sometimes. It was just... so easy.
"Whoa, whoa. No one's talking about sex. No one." Jane said, sitting up in bed. Comfy position be damned.
"That's not what I meant. I meant sex in terms of male or female," Maura chided. “Although, Arizona was a wonderful lover. Very attentive."
Jane was blushing something fierce, happy that her friend was unable to see it and make some unintentionally smart-ass comment. "Is it... different?"
"Sort of, yes. But I think what I loved most about that relationship was the companionship. I haven't found a friend like that in a long time. Well, not until I met you, of course. Arizona was always kind, well-spoken, thoughtful-"
"Until you met me?" Jane interrupted with a softer tone, more invested in Maura’s response than she'd ever imagine.
"Yes, you're wonderful companionship, despite your brash outlook and deplorable wardrobe."
Jane chuckled, amused despite her inner turmoil. "Thanks, Maura. You aren't half bad yourself."
_______________________________
Arizona pushed into the Paramount in Beacon Hill and breathed deeply. She held the door open for Callie behind her as her senses swam among the scents and sounds of warm baked bread, grinding coffee beans and fresh greens sizzling in melting butter. “Welcome home,” she whispered to herself quietly, instantly reverted to the many Sunday mornings she had spent in exactly this spot.
Turning to grin at her wife, Arizona moaned, “Believe me, your meal will be worth that artery you hear clogging already. I promise.”
Callie laughed and motioned to the hostess for a booth by the window. “Don’t worry about me. You’re the one who feeds our daughter homemade organic squash. Although, it’s nice you’ve finally found something you can cook; even if is only mush.”
Arizona, long accustomed to this line of sarcasm, did not dignify that comment with a response. Instead, she slid into the booth and surprised Callie by patting the seat next to her. “Sit by me,” she implored, batting her eyes at Callie in an exaggerated flirtation.
Standing by the booth, Callie rolled her eyes at her wife and shook her head. “Seriously? We’re going to be that couple? I hate that couple.”
“What couple?”
“You know, the one who squeezes together on one side of the booth when there’s a perfectly fine seat open across the table.”
“Calliope,” Arizona whined, patting her seat once more. “Sit next to me.” Lowering her voice she added, “How else am I supposed to whisper sweet nothings in your ear?”
“Sweet nothings,” Callie scoffed but she moved into the seat next to Arizona. “Dork.”
“You love it.”
“I must,” Callie agreed. “Enough that I kept my mouth shut and didn’t cause a scene when Ray’s cousin, uh, Jason called my wife a “hot piece.””
“Ugghh,” Arizona groaned. “He was drunk. Besides, Jason’s an ass. He was Tim’s friend when they were like twelve and he was a kind-of surrogate son for my dad, ages ago. Mom found him charming but, honestly, he’s always been a bit of a jerk.” Smiling at the young waitress when she dropped off the steaming mugs of coffee Callie had ordered, Arizona continued, “Mom says he’s had a rough go lately. Lost some money in the crash, split from his wife. I don’t know. Dad won’t talk about it so something must be going on there.”
“Hmm,” Callie responded noncommittally, distracted by the prospect of a tomato, basil and mozzarella omelet in her near future. “I got the ass vibe,” she murmured. “Especially when he tried to start a conversation with your girl Maura and she froze him out, no problem. Cool and casual.”
“Yep,” Arizona grinned. “That’s Maur. Speaking of, what did you think of her?” Arizona asked slyly. She knew she wouldn’t fool her wife but oh, how she loved yanking this particular chain.
Callie shrugged her shoulders, taking a tentative sip from the steaming mug before her. She set it down, ripping open a packet of raw sugar and stirring it into the dark roast. "She seemed smart, and poised. Like she'd gone to finishing school. Knew just what to do in lulls of conversation. Oh, and, you were right," the Latina beamed over the mug of her coffee, complete with a wag of her brows. "Quite a looker. If you're into tiny sandy-blondes with impeccable fashion sense and killer calves."
Arizona sipped from her own mug after dumping so much creamer into the coffee that, not only was it brimming, but also it was a pale tan color now. "She probably did go to finishing school. Her parents are like that."
"What, snobby dipshits?" Callie grimaced.
"Callie," Arizona smirked. "Are you jealous?"
"Pfft, no. Why would I be jealous?" The brunette dismissed the idea quickly. "I'm just saying, she doesn't really look like me, ya know?"
Arizona grinned as she pressed a soft kiss against Callie's cheek. "Mm, I definitely know. I think I might have mentioned just how gorgeous I think you are once or twice last night."
Instantly softened by her wife's charm, Callie let off a goofy giggle. "Mm, yeah, I think you did, too. Especially when you were doing that...thing."
"What thing?" Arizona murmured, eyes lidding. "Oh! That thing. Yes. Probably a bad time to tell you I got that from Maura?"
Callie nearly sputtered her coffee onto the scrubbed wooden table beneath them, catching herself and swallowing hurriedly. "That's something I never had to know for the rest of my life," she mumbled, wiping her mouth free of rogue coffee droplets. After a few moments, a smile stretched across her face. "You know, whatever, it's hot. And I totally got the girl, so I win."
"You do, huh?" Arizona smiled, tracing her fingertips against Callie's wrist. "What do you win?"
"Another round of everything we did last night, complete with you being loud, too." Callie sighed, wistfully. "I’ve missed noisy sex."
Blushing into her coffee cup, Arizona giggled as the waitress stopped shy of their table, trying to hide the smirk she was sporting at overhearing their conversation.
“Callie!” Arizona admonished when the blushing girl took their order and moved away from the table.
Callie only laughed. “Pay back’s a bitch, huh? Got any more stories about Dr. Isles you want to share now?”
Arizona shook her head and kicked Callie gently beneath the table. “Let’s make a deal-I don’t tell you the things Maura taught me, you don’t tell the restaurant that I like to scream during sex.”
“Done,” Callie agreed.
“And scoot over,” Arizona added, squirming between the window and Callie in her seat. “You’re in my space.”
Callie laughed again and squished her wife into the shared booth an inch more. “Your idea,” she reminded Arizona. “Besides, I plan on being ‘in your space’ all weekend long. I wouldn’t bother complaining about it now.”
At that promise Arizona stopped squirming and twined her ankle over Callie’s beneath the booth. “Yeah? You know, since my parents are out of town, we’re completely free on Sunday.” Lowering her voice, Arizona pressed her mouth close to Callie’s ear. “You’re not leaving that bed. Not once.”
Callie shivered when Arizona’s warm breath steamed down her neck. “Done,” she said again.
_______________________________
Maura had been waiting in the reception’s ridiculously long line for a cocktail for what felt like an hour. She was close enough to spy the liquor bottles behind the bar, impressed with the caliber of their selection. When she spotted the emerald bottle of Tanqueray she quickly made her mind up that there would be no wine tonight. It felt like a gin night.
A familiar giggle shook her out of her reverie and she shifted her attention to the sound. Arizona and her wife were just coming off of the dance floor, cheeks flushed and glasses empty. Callie had her hand on the small of Arizona's back while the blonde stepped back into her heels.
"Manolo’s?" Maura smiled, gesturing toward the shoes. When she caught Callie's, she grinned even wider. "And Louboutins?"
Callie grinned, "Yeah. Arizona has a bit of a shoe fetish. Both for herself and me."
"Oh, I definitely recall that," Maura smirked as the line moved along. "And your dresses."
The ME gestured to Callie's dress, a red number with capped sleeves and a flattering square neckline, as well as Arizona's formfitting cobalt bridesmaids gown made of delicately beaded silk.
"Amazing. Becca certainly knew what would work for you, Arizona, and Callie, that Ralph Lauren is gorgeous."
Callie smiled. "Thanks, you look great, too. You know, if this whole medical examiner thing doesn't pan out, you definitely could host a What Not To Wear spin-off on television."
Maura laughed coquettishly, missing the reference entirely but covering her confusion with well-practiced politeness.
"It's a show where a pair of designers help the fashion-challenged," Arizona elaborated gently, watching Maura's face light up at the explanation.
"Ah, well then thank you, Callie," Maura grinned, bowing her head toward the Latina. “Lord knows Jane gives me enough practice in that department.”
Sidling close to Maura, effectively (and brilliantly in Callie’s opinion) cutting into the bar line, Arizona hooked her arm through the ME’s and drawled, “Jane, huh? Do tell.”
“Jane’s…Oh,” Maura trailed off with a nervous grin, catching the implication in Arizona’s tone. “No. It’s not like that. Or not-“ Maura cut herself off and shook her head firmly before repeating, “It’s not like that. Jane is a homicide detective with the Boston Police Department. We work together. And,” she added when Arizona continued to smile at her, “we’re friends. Good friends. Best friends,” Maura couldn’t help adding smugly because the term ‘best friend’ was so new to her personal vocabulary.
“Mmhm,” Arizona hummed, cocking her head to consider her friend. “Nope,” she decided with a firm shake of her head. From behind her, Callie laughed at her wife’s certain denial.
“Nope?” Maura repeated. “Nope, what?”
“Nope, not gonna buy it,” Arizona sang, motioning to Maura to move up in line. She waited patiently while Maura ordered her gin and tonic, smiling delightedly when Maura graciously asked the bartender to make three of the same. Once the drinks were passed over, Arizona continued in her best sing-songing voice, “You’ve got a crush.” Winking at her wife, Arizona added, “Calliope, Maura’s got a crush.”
Caught up in Arizona’s enthusiasm (and, yes, happy to hear the crush in question was not a long-held love for her wife), Callie grinned and tapped her glass to Maura’s. “Definitely a crush. Sexy cop with an attitude, right?” Callie guessed, borrowing from every crime drama she had ever sat through with Mark. “I can see that working for you.”
“Ooohh,” Arizona squealed, instantly picking up where Callie left off. “Yes! I bet she’s all…tough but vulnerable? Strong but with a soft side. God, Maur, that would totally work for you. No wonder you’re in love.”
Maura had been mildly amused by Arizona and Callie’s banter, appreciating how the two women so obviously understood and enjoyed each other. But the mention of the word ‘love’ sent her own Louboutins skidding across the dance floor. “Love?”
Arizona recognized the panicked look that etched across Maura's features, her own brows furrowing as she pinched the cocktail straw and sipped daintily from her glass. Glancing toward Callie, who had already begun dancing in place again, the blonde gently asked, "Would you give us a second, Callie?"
The Latina, already tipsy, watched a cluster of miniature crab cakes pass by on a server’s tray. "Oh, I see crab cakes. Take all the seconds you need."
Arizona grinned as she watched her wife scamper away (as best she could in four inch heels) and turned to the medical examiner again. "Sorry if we were out of line, we were just being silly. Not meant to be taken offensively."
Maura shook her head. "No, Arizona, I know. It's just-" she paused, sipped her drink and sighed some. "It's, well, I don't know where to place Jane in terms of categorizing her. Best friend seems to fit, but I've never had many of those." The ME waved her hand impatiently. "This is not conversation suited for a wedding reception."
Arizona placed a calming hand on Maura's bare shoulder, rubbing her thumb across the skin there. "Hey, it’s just me. That Cha-Cha Slide is so loud these people can’t hear their own thoughts."
Maura laughed, nodding in agreement.
"Do you think it's more than friendship?" Arizona asked, tone full of the concern she hoped came across as sincere.
"I don't know," Maura blushed, eyelids fluttering as she looked down. "We're very close, but Jane is very..."
"Straight?" Arizona offered.
"That and I don't think, if there were hypothetical feelings, which I'm not confirming," the ME cocked her head, "but then again I'm not really denying them either..."
"Maura," Arizona said, hoping to get the woman back on track.
"I'm just saying that I don't think Jane feels that way. I casually mentioned that an ex-girlfriend of mine would be in attendance at this wedding and she was blushing so much I wondered if she was going to suffer from cerebral apoplexy."
Arizona subdued a bark of laughter at the way her friend’s mind worked. "It’s new for her, Maura. Unchartered waters-“
“You sound like the Colonel,” Maura laughed lightly.
Arizona ignored her attempts to change the subject. “It was new for you too at one point. I remember you being super blush-y and nervous the first few dates of ours, but it turned out ok. More than ok. Maybe she just needs some time to process."
"Maybe, or maybe I'm…what's that expression? Counting my roosters before they lay eggs. Except roosters don’t lay eggs,” she continued, instantly distracted until Arizona reeled her in with another squeeze of her shoulder.
Arizona smirked, shaking her head some. "She'd be foolish to turn you down, Maura. You're super. Awesome," she added with a you-know-me grin.
Maura smiled back at her ex-girlfriend and gave in to her enthusiasm. "Thank you, Arizona. I really like Callie, by the way. She seems perfect for you. And you seem happy."
Arizona grinned. "I am. Very happy."
Maura lifted her glass and Arizona clinked it merrily against her own. "Well, then that's what we should be talking about."
_______________________________
Maura stayed by Arizona’s side for as long as politeness dictated, laughing along with the blonde when Callie urged Ray into the center of the floor for a dance. As soon as she was able, however, Maura excused herself and snuck off to the bathroom, more affected by her conversation with Arizona than she cared to admit.
No, questions of sexuality didn’t frighten Maura. But Jane did. Having feelings for Jane, intimate feelings, feelings she had tried to deny-to hide behind men with impressive adductor and iliopsoas muscles-for a long time now, those feelings terrified the doctor. Almost as much as they exhilarated her.
So, yes, she was hiding in the bathroom for a minute.
Pulling herself together in front of the bathroom sink, and chiding herself lightly, Maura dropped a tube of lipstick back into her small bag and snapped it shut with an audible click. You can think about Jane Rizzoli tomorrow, Maura, she ordered her image in the mirror. Everyone knows you’re going to anyway.
Maura laughed at her own internal honesty. Apparently even lying to herself was an impossibility. Now go back to your friends and stop this nonsense.
Maura squared her shoulders defiantly and forced herself out of the bathroom, determined to find Susan and spend a few minutes catching up with her old friend. Arizona had confided that Susan’s marriage, a college romance that no one expected to survive medical school, was dissolving in a particularly nasty divorce and that Susan and her young child were considering a fresh start in Maura’s neighborhood.
Moving out of the bathroom with purpose and renewed confidence, Maura was startled from her own thoughts of real estate opportunities when she heard an angry voice mutter, “-I’m hearing SEC, Whitestone. I’m hearing bankruptcy. I’m hearing,” he emphasized, “felony.”
Maura peeked around the corner, her heart pounding an audible beat by her clandestine spying. Near the door to the men’s restroom, huddled in a corner, she found three men arguing in shout-whispers. The oldest, a man she didn’t know but who’s voice matched the one she had first overheard, was holding another by the lapels of his Calvin Klein jacket, jerking the man close with each accentuated word. Narrowing her eyes, Maura realized with a jolt that the individual in trouble was Ray’s slimy second cousin. She couldn’t recall his name-Jay, Joseph, something-but she remembered clearly the man’s too-strong flirtations from the night before.
Maura was debating whether to step away or somehow intervene when the third man, someone Maura recognized as one of the groomsmen, demanded, “I want my money, dickwad, and I want it before the end of the evening. And, I swear to God, if this shit goes down like Madoff, you are going to wish the SEC would put your ass in jail.”
With a final push that made Maura pause to pity a man she had so comfortably shot down, the angry men strode down the hallway, barely giving Maura time to hustle back into the crowd unseen.
_______________________________
Back on the dance floor, Maura found favor chatting with Becca's parents, forgetting that bizarre scene in light of the Parsons’ reminiscing about their "Hopkins girls" who were often fixtures at the Parsons' table for holidays parties or summer vacations. The ME was just launching into a retelling of the Christmas Eve debacle during their last year of medical school when she heard a shrill yell cut through the Chicken Dance.
"Jason, it's always about you. And the women. This woman has been following you around like a sad puppy the entire night." Carolyn Flynn (formerly Whitestone) gestured to Susan who stared back, wide-eyed. "It's floozies and money with you, Jason Whitestone. That's what makes your perfectly conniving little world go round!"
"Holy," Callie murmured, sidling up beside Maura on her way to the bar. "That is so freaking inappropriate at a wedding."
Maura nodded, knowing she shouldn't stare, but the gin and tonics had begun to numb her manners.
“But kind of horribly fabulous, right?” Callie added, unconcerned by her own obvious staring.
They both watched as Ray left the gaggle of dancing groomsmen, attempting to calm his cousin down with some inaudible words and a pat to his shoulder. Whatever Ray whispered sent Jason's ex wife into a further tailspin, however, and she lunged toward her former spouse with a frighteningly predatory look.
"Oh, wow," Arizona added, spying Callie frozen in place next to Maura, attentions trained on the scene.
Suddenly one of the groomsman looped his arms around Carolyn's waist, lassoing the feisty woman even as she flailed and kicked, continuing to scream insults in Jason’s direction. "Vile, disgusting, pig of a man. You're going to rot in hell." She didn’t quiet until hotel security entered the ballroom, breaking up the fight before it got any worse.
"Oh my," Maura said, watching the bulky security guard haul dainty Carolyn Flynn outside, her yells echoing until she got out the door. “Ray’s cousin seems to be having a particularly poor day today.”
“Yeah?” Callie glanced at Maura with an unabashedly amused grin. Clearly the gin was talking when she shrugged and said, “Good. Arizona says he’s an ass anyway.”
“Total ass,” Arizona confirmed. “Never could stand him.” They all three watched as Jason, left with nothing else to do, murmured a quick word of apology to Ray and Becca before excusing himself to slip off in the direction of the men’s restroom. No one said a word until the silence was broken by a vibrating buzz coming from some mysteriously hidden location beneath Callie’s dress.
“Crap,” Callie sighed, kicking back the last sip of her drink. “That’s going to be Mark-he’s the only one set to vibrate. I’ll just, ah-“ Callie pointed towards the exit with a sheepish grin. “I’ll take it outside.”
Watching her wife sneak off, Arizona leaned towards Maura and confided, “She can’t get to her phone at the moment. Not without giving that staring usher over there the show he’s been waiting for all night.”
Maura’s eyes widened dramatically, even as a laugh bubbled from her chest. “Where does she keep it, exactly?” Maura asked curiously.
“You wish you knew,” Arizona giggled before suddenly smacking a flat palm against her forehead. “Did she say Mark?”
“Yes,” Maura replied. “He’s Sofia’s father, correct?”
“Yeah,” Arizona answered, already moving to follow her wife. “He’s the dad and he’s got her for the weekend. I better-“
“Go,” Maura waved her off with a smile she’d never admit was envious. “Go make sure everything’s ok.”
“Thanks,” Arizona waved, halfway out the door. “I knew I shoulda brought the iPad,” she muttered to herself.
_______________________________
When Arizona hurried outside the reception hall, blinking against the unexpected darkness, she found her wife leaning casually against a brick wall, tucked away from the bustling road by the shade of a large, hanging Willow tree.
“Calliope,” Arizona breathed, halting directly in front of her wife. Noticing the phone resting silently in Callie’s hand, Arizona asked, “Is everything ok? Mark? Sofia? What’s going on?”
Callie glanced at her phone and giggled (a sound only alcohol could produce), “Two minutes. It took you two whole minutes to realize that the Seattle sky could be falling.”
“Calliope,” Arizona repeated, this time with a small stomp of her foot. “Why did Mark call?”
“Because,” Callie drawled, clamping her hands to her wife’s waist and pulling Arizona into her body. “He wanted to know if the purple chupo would be ok after Sofia accidently threw her pink one down the garbage chute.”
“She-What?” Arizona asked but she lifted a hand to halt Callie’s response. “Wait. What the heck does the color of the chupo have to do with anything?”
“Pretty much what I said,” Callie laughed, tugging Arizona close once more. “And so the crisis is averted. Now,” she added before Arizona could interrupt, “how long do you suppose I have to stand here, all alone, in the dark, wrapped up in this ridiculously tight dress, before you kiss me?”
Reaching up to tuck her fingertips carefully beneath the square neckline of Callie’s said ridiculously tight dress, Arizona laughed. “I’m guessing about three minutes,” she whispered before leaning forward to capture Callie’s lips with hers.
Callie loved drunk-Arizona kisses. She always tasted so good: salty when it was tequila, sweet when it was wine and indescribably delicious when it was gin. The hints of citrusy fruit and a crisp bite, coupled with the blonde's uncanny ability to turn the Latina's knees to Jell-o as soon as they started making out, was always far more intoxicating than the beverages in question.
Arizona moaned softly when she felt Callie's tongue slide into her mouth and the taller woman press her back against the tree, roughly pulling her closer by the hips. The blonde responded by wrapping her arms around Callie's shoulders, digging her nails into strong musculature through the dress.
Callie broke the kiss only to tip Arizona's head back, rewarding that creamy neck with kisses and smearing her lipstick (as if she cared). "I wanna take you back to the hotel," she panted. Arizona moaned, not stopping Callie's wandering hand from breaching the skirt of her dress, ghosting along her inner thighs.
"Mm. Let's say our goodbyes, quickly, then you can take me," she groaned, feeling Callie's teeth sink into her neck.
"Can I take you here?" Callie asked. "No one's around."
The blonde hissed in a breath when Callie's nails dragged up the tender flesh of her inner thigh, moving dangerously close to the fancy panties she'd worn to surprise the Latina with later. "Mm, you drive a h-hard bargain."
"That's not all I can do that's hard... and maybe fast," Callie whispered against the shell of Arizona's ear.
"Calliope," Arizona gasped, at this point ready to do whatever her wife wanted. Her eyes fluttered open to look out for surprise on-lookers (the usher). Instead, what she saw had her pulling away from her wife with a shocked gasp. A man, his once-crisp white shirt now stained with blood, came stumbling out of the alley between the hotel and an office building. He clutched his side, groaning, his face contorted in pain.
Disentangling from Callie’s embrace quickly, Arizona's instinct kicked in as she started towards the man. Callie, swiftly turning around and realizing what had taken Arizona from her, immediately followed suit.
"Oh my God, it's Jason," Arizona gasped, heels clipping against the pavement as she followed him as fast as she could in the restrictive footwear, watching him trip and then fall. "Jason, are you okay? What happened?"
"Stabbed," he sputtered, coughing up a spray of blood onto the ruching of Arizona's bridesmaid’s dress.
"Okay, stay with me. Just stay with me," Arizona soothed, stabilizing the man's head. "Someone call 9-1-1! " She shouted to the valets who gathered at the sound of so much commotion. Then, with a remarkable calm, she added softly, "And Callie, go get Maura."
Callie nodded spinning towards the entrance. She didn’t stop, even when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the black edge of a satin cape, flapping in the breeze as someone swiftly rounded the street corner.
Authors: Roughian and ForeverLeyton
Rating: R this time, no matter how badly we wanted to push it to NC-17.
Fandom: Crossover: Rizzoli and Isles/Callie and Arizona
Summary: Callie and Arizona head to Boston for the wedding of Arizona's long time best friend. But Bean Town is not as receptive as they expected: Callie meets Arizona’s favorite ex; Maura’s got an itch Jane wants to scratch. Oh, and there’s a murder, too.
A/N ForeverLeyton: Yep, only a day between updates. We can’t promise every update will happen so quickly (we both have to work eventually, after all) but suffice it to say we are as excited about this fic as you all seem to be. Also, to taintedidealist, Roughian will add her own thanks, but a personal (and belated) thank you from me. Your very-helpful e-mail on partner writing helped us start one of the most entertaining writing processes I’ve experienced. Thank you, sincerely!
A/N roughian: Thanks for all your feedback, we’re loving it. We’re having a blast, and we hope you guys are too. Thanks, also, to taintedidealist. Very awesome of you to share with us your ways of awesomeness.
______________________________
The sound of distant ringing jarred Jane out of one of the most peaceful night's sleep she'd had in years. The detective was in the same spot she'd fallen asleep in, duvet and sheets cocooning around her in an indulgently comfortable nest. One eye opened, spying the blurry 8:34 on the digital clock. Whomever this was, it'd better be good.
Her hand felt around the nightstand, gently pushing aside her badge and gun to get to her phone. She answered it, and then tucked both arms back under the covers, letting the phone balance against the side of her head that wasn't buried in the pillow.
"Rizzoli," the brunette croaked.
"Jane, are you sleeping? I'm sorry."
"Not sleepin' if I'm talking to you, Maura. If I could do that I'd be much more pleasant at work."
Maura laughed. "I was calling to ask if you're sure you wouldn't like to come with me to the wedding. It's an open bar. I'm sure they'll have your beer there."
"Mm, no more bribing me to go to fancy functions with food and booze, Maur. Need I remind you of the fish knife incident?"
The ME grimaced. "No, you need not."
"Besides, it's poker night at Korsak's and Frost cleaned up last week. I need to show that little shit who's boss."
Maura sighed. "Suit yourself. It was a lovely rehearsal dinner. You would have really gotten along well with Becca's fiancé. He enjoys baseball and whisky. And he talks with his hands, kind of like your mother has a tendency to do."
Jane wrinkled her brows. "Thanks, I think. Glad your party was nice." She paused for a moment, waking up a little faster with the memory of Maura's news. "And how was your uh, old pal, Carolina?"
"Very funny, Jane. Arizona was well. So was her new wife. I think you would have liked her, too."
“The wife? Or your former Sapphic lov-uh, girlfriend?” Jane was teasing but she still couldn’t bring herself to use the word lover. Not about Maura and another woman, for God’s sake.
“Callie, Arizona’s wife,” Maura answered. “Though you’d probably like Arizona as well, after a while.”
“After a while?”
“Yes, well, she’s…peppy, I suppose you would say. It takes some people a while to get used to her. But her wife, Callie, she’s…I can’t describe it but in a way she reminds me of you. Booming laugh and she’s a lot of fun but there seems to be…a bit of an edge to her. Like there is with you.”
“So, basically, you’re saying she’s a bad ass?”
Maura laughed and Jane could hear the scratch of her earring against the phone as she nodded her head in agreement. “I guess you could call her that. If you came to the wedding, you would see for yourself.”
“Poker night,” Jane reminded her, rolling over in bed and brushing long curls out of her face. “Now, stop stalling, Maur. You know what I want to know.”
“I don’t read minds, Jane,” Maura replied primly, even they both knew she was absolutely certain what Jane wanted to discuss.
“Uh huh. You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I think I will.”
“Fine. So. You, uh, you…and her…and, um, shit.”
“It’s not that difficult, Jane. You told me once your favorite cousin on your father’s side is homosexual. I know you’re not homophobic.”
“Hey, whoa! This isn’t about Sal and his string of boyfriends. It’s not even about being gay, which…I mean…are you?” But before Maura could respond to that question, Jane hurried on. “No. It’s not about that. It’s about you and…and a girl.”
"I' don't define myself by society's constructs for sexuality. I suppose some would say I'm bisexual, but I prefer to let love happen regardless of the sex," Maura responded, smirking into the phone. She enjoyed flustering the brunette sometimes. It was just... so easy.
"Whoa, whoa. No one's talking about sex. No one." Jane said, sitting up in bed. Comfy position be damned.
"That's not what I meant. I meant sex in terms of male or female," Maura chided. “Although, Arizona was a wonderful lover. Very attentive."
Jane was blushing something fierce, happy that her friend was unable to see it and make some unintentionally smart-ass comment. "Is it... different?"
"Sort of, yes. But I think what I loved most about that relationship was the companionship. I haven't found a friend like that in a long time. Well, not until I met you, of course. Arizona was always kind, well-spoken, thoughtful-"
"Until you met me?" Jane interrupted with a softer tone, more invested in Maura’s response than she'd ever imagine.
"Yes, you're wonderful companionship, despite your brash outlook and deplorable wardrobe."
Jane chuckled, amused despite her inner turmoil. "Thanks, Maura. You aren't half bad yourself."
_______________________________
Arizona pushed into the Paramount in Beacon Hill and breathed deeply. She held the door open for Callie behind her as her senses swam among the scents and sounds of warm baked bread, grinding coffee beans and fresh greens sizzling in melting butter. “Welcome home,” she whispered to herself quietly, instantly reverted to the many Sunday mornings she had spent in exactly this spot.
Turning to grin at her wife, Arizona moaned, “Believe me, your meal will be worth that artery you hear clogging already. I promise.”
Callie laughed and motioned to the hostess for a booth by the window. “Don’t worry about me. You’re the one who feeds our daughter homemade organic squash. Although, it’s nice you’ve finally found something you can cook; even if is only mush.”
Arizona, long accustomed to this line of sarcasm, did not dignify that comment with a response. Instead, she slid into the booth and surprised Callie by patting the seat next to her. “Sit by me,” she implored, batting her eyes at Callie in an exaggerated flirtation.
Standing by the booth, Callie rolled her eyes at her wife and shook her head. “Seriously? We’re going to be that couple? I hate that couple.”
“What couple?”
“You know, the one who squeezes together on one side of the booth when there’s a perfectly fine seat open across the table.”
“Calliope,” Arizona whined, patting her seat once more. “Sit next to me.” Lowering her voice she added, “How else am I supposed to whisper sweet nothings in your ear?”
“Sweet nothings,” Callie scoffed but she moved into the seat next to Arizona. “Dork.”
“You love it.”
“I must,” Callie agreed. “Enough that I kept my mouth shut and didn’t cause a scene when Ray’s cousin, uh, Jason called my wife a “hot piece.””
“Ugghh,” Arizona groaned. “He was drunk. Besides, Jason’s an ass. He was Tim’s friend when they were like twelve and he was a kind-of surrogate son for my dad, ages ago. Mom found him charming but, honestly, he’s always been a bit of a jerk.” Smiling at the young waitress when she dropped off the steaming mugs of coffee Callie had ordered, Arizona continued, “Mom says he’s had a rough go lately. Lost some money in the crash, split from his wife. I don’t know. Dad won’t talk about it so something must be going on there.”
“Hmm,” Callie responded noncommittally, distracted by the prospect of a tomato, basil and mozzarella omelet in her near future. “I got the ass vibe,” she murmured. “Especially when he tried to start a conversation with your girl Maura and she froze him out, no problem. Cool and casual.”
“Yep,” Arizona grinned. “That’s Maur. Speaking of, what did you think of her?” Arizona asked slyly. She knew she wouldn’t fool her wife but oh, how she loved yanking this particular chain.
Callie shrugged her shoulders, taking a tentative sip from the steaming mug before her. She set it down, ripping open a packet of raw sugar and stirring it into the dark roast. "She seemed smart, and poised. Like she'd gone to finishing school. Knew just what to do in lulls of conversation. Oh, and, you were right," the Latina beamed over the mug of her coffee, complete with a wag of her brows. "Quite a looker. If you're into tiny sandy-blondes with impeccable fashion sense and killer calves."
Arizona sipped from her own mug after dumping so much creamer into the coffee that, not only was it brimming, but also it was a pale tan color now. "She probably did go to finishing school. Her parents are like that."
"What, snobby dipshits?" Callie grimaced.
"Callie," Arizona smirked. "Are you jealous?"
"Pfft, no. Why would I be jealous?" The brunette dismissed the idea quickly. "I'm just saying, she doesn't really look like me, ya know?"
Arizona grinned as she pressed a soft kiss against Callie's cheek. "Mm, I definitely know. I think I might have mentioned just how gorgeous I think you are once or twice last night."
Instantly softened by her wife's charm, Callie let off a goofy giggle. "Mm, yeah, I think you did, too. Especially when you were doing that...thing."
"What thing?" Arizona murmured, eyes lidding. "Oh! That thing. Yes. Probably a bad time to tell you I got that from Maura?"
Callie nearly sputtered her coffee onto the scrubbed wooden table beneath them, catching herself and swallowing hurriedly. "That's something I never had to know for the rest of my life," she mumbled, wiping her mouth free of rogue coffee droplets. After a few moments, a smile stretched across her face. "You know, whatever, it's hot. And I totally got the girl, so I win."
"You do, huh?" Arizona smiled, tracing her fingertips against Callie's wrist. "What do you win?"
"Another round of everything we did last night, complete with you being loud, too." Callie sighed, wistfully. "I’ve missed noisy sex."
Blushing into her coffee cup, Arizona giggled as the waitress stopped shy of their table, trying to hide the smirk she was sporting at overhearing their conversation.
“Callie!” Arizona admonished when the blushing girl took their order and moved away from the table.
Callie only laughed. “Pay back’s a bitch, huh? Got any more stories about Dr. Isles you want to share now?”
Arizona shook her head and kicked Callie gently beneath the table. “Let’s make a deal-I don’t tell you the things Maura taught me, you don’t tell the restaurant that I like to scream during sex.”
“Done,” Callie agreed.
“And scoot over,” Arizona added, squirming between the window and Callie in her seat. “You’re in my space.”
Callie laughed again and squished her wife into the shared booth an inch more. “Your idea,” she reminded Arizona. “Besides, I plan on being ‘in your space’ all weekend long. I wouldn’t bother complaining about it now.”
At that promise Arizona stopped squirming and twined her ankle over Callie’s beneath the booth. “Yeah? You know, since my parents are out of town, we’re completely free on Sunday.” Lowering her voice, Arizona pressed her mouth close to Callie’s ear. “You’re not leaving that bed. Not once.”
Callie shivered when Arizona’s warm breath steamed down her neck. “Done,” she said again.
_______________________________
Maura had been waiting in the reception’s ridiculously long line for a cocktail for what felt like an hour. She was close enough to spy the liquor bottles behind the bar, impressed with the caliber of their selection. When she spotted the emerald bottle of Tanqueray she quickly made her mind up that there would be no wine tonight. It felt like a gin night.
A familiar giggle shook her out of her reverie and she shifted her attention to the sound. Arizona and her wife were just coming off of the dance floor, cheeks flushed and glasses empty. Callie had her hand on the small of Arizona's back while the blonde stepped back into her heels.
"Manolo’s?" Maura smiled, gesturing toward the shoes. When she caught Callie's, she grinned even wider. "And Louboutins?"
Callie grinned, "Yeah. Arizona has a bit of a shoe fetish. Both for herself and me."
"Oh, I definitely recall that," Maura smirked as the line moved along. "And your dresses."
The ME gestured to Callie's dress, a red number with capped sleeves and a flattering square neckline, as well as Arizona's formfitting cobalt bridesmaids gown made of delicately beaded silk.
"Amazing. Becca certainly knew what would work for you, Arizona, and Callie, that Ralph Lauren is gorgeous."
Callie smiled. "Thanks, you look great, too. You know, if this whole medical examiner thing doesn't pan out, you definitely could host a What Not To Wear spin-off on television."
Maura laughed coquettishly, missing the reference entirely but covering her confusion with well-practiced politeness.
"It's a show where a pair of designers help the fashion-challenged," Arizona elaborated gently, watching Maura's face light up at the explanation.
"Ah, well then thank you, Callie," Maura grinned, bowing her head toward the Latina. “Lord knows Jane gives me enough practice in that department.”
Sidling close to Maura, effectively (and brilliantly in Callie’s opinion) cutting into the bar line, Arizona hooked her arm through the ME’s and drawled, “Jane, huh? Do tell.”
“Jane’s…Oh,” Maura trailed off with a nervous grin, catching the implication in Arizona’s tone. “No. It’s not like that. Or not-“ Maura cut herself off and shook her head firmly before repeating, “It’s not like that. Jane is a homicide detective with the Boston Police Department. We work together. And,” she added when Arizona continued to smile at her, “we’re friends. Good friends. Best friends,” Maura couldn’t help adding smugly because the term ‘best friend’ was so new to her personal vocabulary.
“Mmhm,” Arizona hummed, cocking her head to consider her friend. “Nope,” she decided with a firm shake of her head. From behind her, Callie laughed at her wife’s certain denial.
“Nope?” Maura repeated. “Nope, what?”
“Nope, not gonna buy it,” Arizona sang, motioning to Maura to move up in line. She waited patiently while Maura ordered her gin and tonic, smiling delightedly when Maura graciously asked the bartender to make three of the same. Once the drinks were passed over, Arizona continued in her best sing-songing voice, “You’ve got a crush.” Winking at her wife, Arizona added, “Calliope, Maura’s got a crush.”
Caught up in Arizona’s enthusiasm (and, yes, happy to hear the crush in question was not a long-held love for her wife), Callie grinned and tapped her glass to Maura’s. “Definitely a crush. Sexy cop with an attitude, right?” Callie guessed, borrowing from every crime drama she had ever sat through with Mark. “I can see that working for you.”
“Ooohh,” Arizona squealed, instantly picking up where Callie left off. “Yes! I bet she’s all…tough but vulnerable? Strong but with a soft side. God, Maur, that would totally work for you. No wonder you’re in love.”
Maura had been mildly amused by Arizona and Callie’s banter, appreciating how the two women so obviously understood and enjoyed each other. But the mention of the word ‘love’ sent her own Louboutins skidding across the dance floor. “Love?”
Arizona recognized the panicked look that etched across Maura's features, her own brows furrowing as she pinched the cocktail straw and sipped daintily from her glass. Glancing toward Callie, who had already begun dancing in place again, the blonde gently asked, "Would you give us a second, Callie?"
The Latina, already tipsy, watched a cluster of miniature crab cakes pass by on a server’s tray. "Oh, I see crab cakes. Take all the seconds you need."
Arizona grinned as she watched her wife scamper away (as best she could in four inch heels) and turned to the medical examiner again. "Sorry if we were out of line, we were just being silly. Not meant to be taken offensively."
Maura shook her head. "No, Arizona, I know. It's just-" she paused, sipped her drink and sighed some. "It's, well, I don't know where to place Jane in terms of categorizing her. Best friend seems to fit, but I've never had many of those." The ME waved her hand impatiently. "This is not conversation suited for a wedding reception."
Arizona placed a calming hand on Maura's bare shoulder, rubbing her thumb across the skin there. "Hey, it’s just me. That Cha-Cha Slide is so loud these people can’t hear their own thoughts."
Maura laughed, nodding in agreement.
"Do you think it's more than friendship?" Arizona asked, tone full of the concern she hoped came across as sincere.
"I don't know," Maura blushed, eyelids fluttering as she looked down. "We're very close, but Jane is very..."
"Straight?" Arizona offered.
"That and I don't think, if there were hypothetical feelings, which I'm not confirming," the ME cocked her head, "but then again I'm not really denying them either..."
"Maura," Arizona said, hoping to get the woman back on track.
"I'm just saying that I don't think Jane feels that way. I casually mentioned that an ex-girlfriend of mine would be in attendance at this wedding and she was blushing so much I wondered if she was going to suffer from cerebral apoplexy."
Arizona subdued a bark of laughter at the way her friend’s mind worked. "It’s new for her, Maura. Unchartered waters-“
“You sound like the Colonel,” Maura laughed lightly.
Arizona ignored her attempts to change the subject. “It was new for you too at one point. I remember you being super blush-y and nervous the first few dates of ours, but it turned out ok. More than ok. Maybe she just needs some time to process."
"Maybe, or maybe I'm…what's that expression? Counting my roosters before they lay eggs. Except roosters don’t lay eggs,” she continued, instantly distracted until Arizona reeled her in with another squeeze of her shoulder.
Arizona smirked, shaking her head some. "She'd be foolish to turn you down, Maura. You're super. Awesome," she added with a you-know-me grin.
Maura smiled back at her ex-girlfriend and gave in to her enthusiasm. "Thank you, Arizona. I really like Callie, by the way. She seems perfect for you. And you seem happy."
Arizona grinned. "I am. Very happy."
Maura lifted her glass and Arizona clinked it merrily against her own. "Well, then that's what we should be talking about."
_______________________________
Maura stayed by Arizona’s side for as long as politeness dictated, laughing along with the blonde when Callie urged Ray into the center of the floor for a dance. As soon as she was able, however, Maura excused herself and snuck off to the bathroom, more affected by her conversation with Arizona than she cared to admit.
No, questions of sexuality didn’t frighten Maura. But Jane did. Having feelings for Jane, intimate feelings, feelings she had tried to deny-to hide behind men with impressive adductor and iliopsoas muscles-for a long time now, those feelings terrified the doctor. Almost as much as they exhilarated her.
So, yes, she was hiding in the bathroom for a minute.
Pulling herself together in front of the bathroom sink, and chiding herself lightly, Maura dropped a tube of lipstick back into her small bag and snapped it shut with an audible click. You can think about Jane Rizzoli tomorrow, Maura, she ordered her image in the mirror. Everyone knows you’re going to anyway.
Maura laughed at her own internal honesty. Apparently even lying to herself was an impossibility. Now go back to your friends and stop this nonsense.
Maura squared her shoulders defiantly and forced herself out of the bathroom, determined to find Susan and spend a few minutes catching up with her old friend. Arizona had confided that Susan’s marriage, a college romance that no one expected to survive medical school, was dissolving in a particularly nasty divorce and that Susan and her young child were considering a fresh start in Maura’s neighborhood.
Moving out of the bathroom with purpose and renewed confidence, Maura was startled from her own thoughts of real estate opportunities when she heard an angry voice mutter, “-I’m hearing SEC, Whitestone. I’m hearing bankruptcy. I’m hearing,” he emphasized, “felony.”
Maura peeked around the corner, her heart pounding an audible beat by her clandestine spying. Near the door to the men’s restroom, huddled in a corner, she found three men arguing in shout-whispers. The oldest, a man she didn’t know but who’s voice matched the one she had first overheard, was holding another by the lapels of his Calvin Klein jacket, jerking the man close with each accentuated word. Narrowing her eyes, Maura realized with a jolt that the individual in trouble was Ray’s slimy second cousin. She couldn’t recall his name-Jay, Joseph, something-but she remembered clearly the man’s too-strong flirtations from the night before.
Maura was debating whether to step away or somehow intervene when the third man, someone Maura recognized as one of the groomsmen, demanded, “I want my money, dickwad, and I want it before the end of the evening. And, I swear to God, if this shit goes down like Madoff, you are going to wish the SEC would put your ass in jail.”
With a final push that made Maura pause to pity a man she had so comfortably shot down, the angry men strode down the hallway, barely giving Maura time to hustle back into the crowd unseen.
_______________________________
Back on the dance floor, Maura found favor chatting with Becca's parents, forgetting that bizarre scene in light of the Parsons’ reminiscing about their "Hopkins girls" who were often fixtures at the Parsons' table for holidays parties or summer vacations. The ME was just launching into a retelling of the Christmas Eve debacle during their last year of medical school when she heard a shrill yell cut through the Chicken Dance.
"Jason, it's always about you. And the women. This woman has been following you around like a sad puppy the entire night." Carolyn Flynn (formerly Whitestone) gestured to Susan who stared back, wide-eyed. "It's floozies and money with you, Jason Whitestone. That's what makes your perfectly conniving little world go round!"
"Holy," Callie murmured, sidling up beside Maura on her way to the bar. "That is so freaking inappropriate at a wedding."
Maura nodded, knowing she shouldn't stare, but the gin and tonics had begun to numb her manners.
“But kind of horribly fabulous, right?” Callie added, unconcerned by her own obvious staring.
They both watched as Ray left the gaggle of dancing groomsmen, attempting to calm his cousin down with some inaudible words and a pat to his shoulder. Whatever Ray whispered sent Jason's ex wife into a further tailspin, however, and she lunged toward her former spouse with a frighteningly predatory look.
"Oh, wow," Arizona added, spying Callie frozen in place next to Maura, attentions trained on the scene.
Suddenly one of the groomsman looped his arms around Carolyn's waist, lassoing the feisty woman even as she flailed and kicked, continuing to scream insults in Jason’s direction. "Vile, disgusting, pig of a man. You're going to rot in hell." She didn’t quiet until hotel security entered the ballroom, breaking up the fight before it got any worse.
"Oh my," Maura said, watching the bulky security guard haul dainty Carolyn Flynn outside, her yells echoing until she got out the door. “Ray’s cousin seems to be having a particularly poor day today.”
“Yeah?” Callie glanced at Maura with an unabashedly amused grin. Clearly the gin was talking when she shrugged and said, “Good. Arizona says he’s an ass anyway.”
“Total ass,” Arizona confirmed. “Never could stand him.” They all three watched as Jason, left with nothing else to do, murmured a quick word of apology to Ray and Becca before excusing himself to slip off in the direction of the men’s restroom. No one said a word until the silence was broken by a vibrating buzz coming from some mysteriously hidden location beneath Callie’s dress.
“Crap,” Callie sighed, kicking back the last sip of her drink. “That’s going to be Mark-he’s the only one set to vibrate. I’ll just, ah-“ Callie pointed towards the exit with a sheepish grin. “I’ll take it outside.”
Watching her wife sneak off, Arizona leaned towards Maura and confided, “She can’t get to her phone at the moment. Not without giving that staring usher over there the show he’s been waiting for all night.”
Maura’s eyes widened dramatically, even as a laugh bubbled from her chest. “Where does she keep it, exactly?” Maura asked curiously.
“You wish you knew,” Arizona giggled before suddenly smacking a flat palm against her forehead. “Did she say Mark?”
“Yes,” Maura replied. “He’s Sofia’s father, correct?”
“Yeah,” Arizona answered, already moving to follow her wife. “He’s the dad and he’s got her for the weekend. I better-“
“Go,” Maura waved her off with a smile she’d never admit was envious. “Go make sure everything’s ok.”
“Thanks,” Arizona waved, halfway out the door. “I knew I shoulda brought the iPad,” she muttered to herself.
_______________________________
When Arizona hurried outside the reception hall, blinking against the unexpected darkness, she found her wife leaning casually against a brick wall, tucked away from the bustling road by the shade of a large, hanging Willow tree.
“Calliope,” Arizona breathed, halting directly in front of her wife. Noticing the phone resting silently in Callie’s hand, Arizona asked, “Is everything ok? Mark? Sofia? What’s going on?”
Callie glanced at her phone and giggled (a sound only alcohol could produce), “Two minutes. It took you two whole minutes to realize that the Seattle sky could be falling.”
“Calliope,” Arizona repeated, this time with a small stomp of her foot. “Why did Mark call?”
“Because,” Callie drawled, clamping her hands to her wife’s waist and pulling Arizona into her body. “He wanted to know if the purple chupo would be ok after Sofia accidently threw her pink one down the garbage chute.”
“She-What?” Arizona asked but she lifted a hand to halt Callie’s response. “Wait. What the heck does the color of the chupo have to do with anything?”
“Pretty much what I said,” Callie laughed, tugging Arizona close once more. “And so the crisis is averted. Now,” she added before Arizona could interrupt, “how long do you suppose I have to stand here, all alone, in the dark, wrapped up in this ridiculously tight dress, before you kiss me?”
Reaching up to tuck her fingertips carefully beneath the square neckline of Callie’s said ridiculously tight dress, Arizona laughed. “I’m guessing about three minutes,” she whispered before leaning forward to capture Callie’s lips with hers.
Callie loved drunk-Arizona kisses. She always tasted so good: salty when it was tequila, sweet when it was wine and indescribably delicious when it was gin. The hints of citrusy fruit and a crisp bite, coupled with the blonde's uncanny ability to turn the Latina's knees to Jell-o as soon as they started making out, was always far more intoxicating than the beverages in question.
Arizona moaned softly when she felt Callie's tongue slide into her mouth and the taller woman press her back against the tree, roughly pulling her closer by the hips. The blonde responded by wrapping her arms around Callie's shoulders, digging her nails into strong musculature through the dress.
Callie broke the kiss only to tip Arizona's head back, rewarding that creamy neck with kisses and smearing her lipstick (as if she cared). "I wanna take you back to the hotel," she panted. Arizona moaned, not stopping Callie's wandering hand from breaching the skirt of her dress, ghosting along her inner thighs.
"Mm. Let's say our goodbyes, quickly, then you can take me," she groaned, feeling Callie's teeth sink into her neck.
"Can I take you here?" Callie asked. "No one's around."
The blonde hissed in a breath when Callie's nails dragged up the tender flesh of her inner thigh, moving dangerously close to the fancy panties she'd worn to surprise the Latina with later. "Mm, you drive a h-hard bargain."
"That's not all I can do that's hard... and maybe fast," Callie whispered against the shell of Arizona's ear.
"Calliope," Arizona gasped, at this point ready to do whatever her wife wanted. Her eyes fluttered open to look out for surprise on-lookers (the usher). Instead, what she saw had her pulling away from her wife with a shocked gasp. A man, his once-crisp white shirt now stained with blood, came stumbling out of the alley between the hotel and an office building. He clutched his side, groaning, his face contorted in pain.
Disentangling from Callie’s embrace quickly, Arizona's instinct kicked in as she started towards the man. Callie, swiftly turning around and realizing what had taken Arizona from her, immediately followed suit.
"Oh my God, it's Jason," Arizona gasped, heels clipping against the pavement as she followed him as fast as she could in the restrictive footwear, watching him trip and then fall. "Jason, are you okay? What happened?"
"Stabbed," he sputtered, coughing up a spray of blood onto the ruching of Arizona's bridesmaid’s dress.
"Okay, stay with me. Just stay with me," Arizona soothed, stabilizing the man's head. "Someone call 9-1-1! " She shouted to the valets who gathered at the sound of so much commotion. Then, with a remarkable calm, she added softly, "And Callie, go get Maura."
Callie nodded spinning towards the entrance. She didn’t stop, even when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the black edge of a satin cape, flapping in the breeze as someone swiftly rounded the street corner.