Secrect Santa fic for englishstrawbie: "Merry Christmas, Baby"
Title: Merry Christmas, Baby for englishstrawbie
Author:darsfebruary
Rating: PG - sorry! ;)
Summary: Arizona takes Callie home for Christmas.
Disclaimer: See sidebar.
A/N: Happy holidays, englishstrawbie! You asked for "a follow up to something we saw on an episode but with Callie and Arizona celebrating the holiday season together and exchanging gifts." I took a few liberties, but this roughly fits the bill. I don't know if/what you celebrate, but I hope this fic gift finds you happy with loved ones! Best wishes. <3Dars
“Merry Christmas, Baby”
Mrs. Robbins ushered the girls into the room and then left to tend to whatever the delicious dish was that was wafting the scent of cinnamon from the stovetop. “There are cookies when you’re unpacked!” she called, her voice carrying down the hall. “…And Dan made eggnog…”
Callie and Arizona stood beside the full bed, garment bags in hand, and surveyed the small bedroom. It was Callie’s first visit to the Robbins’ family home in Arlington, and the last place Arizona had lived before college and then med school. Clearly, Patricia Robbins was one of those mothers who, once her children left home, kept their bedrooms intact as a shrine to their childhoods. The room was a pale yellow, with dark wood furniture and a cheery quilted bedspread. “My grandmother made it,” Arizona said, as she caught Callie looking. She took the garment bag from Callie’s hand and headed over to the closet. Meanwhile, Callie continued checking out their accommodations.
On the far wall, next to the bathroom door, a young Cindy Crawford stretched out in a red bikini, the poster’s top right edge untacked and curling down. Callie laughed and pointed to the supermodel. “You weren’t lying.”
“I never lie!”
Callie shot Arizona a pointed look. “Okay,” she conceded, “except about the chicken pox! God, I’ll never live that down.”
Satisfied, Callie turned back to her slow exploration of the detritus of Arizona’s girlhood, while her girlfriend mumbled on. Something about how she had pretty much outgrown Cindy Crawford anyway...something something brunettes..…mumble mumble difficult women.
Callie smiled to herself as she walked over to a towering cherry bookshelf crammed with worn biology textbooks, science fair trophies, and colorful ribbon awards for years worth of equestrian competitions. She would have to ask Arizona about that later, she thought, studying a framed photograph of a focused blond-haired girl vaulting over bars atop a gorgeous chestnut horse. Even in the grainy picture, she could see some of her Arizona in there, the pure joy atop the concentration.
The room was filled with remnants of Arizona’s life before college - photo albums, slightly broken jewelry, an embarrassingly large collection of stuffed bears lined up across her dresser. “They’re Stiegs,” Arizona explained as she unpacked. “From when we lived in Germany.” Callie set the bear back down and noticed other items that hinted at Arizona’s scattered childhood. Yearbooks - each from a different school. French and German dictionaries. A small stack of kitschy shot glasses. She pulled one off the top and squinted her eyes to read the loopy scrawl, “Welcome to Las Vegas.”
Suddenly, inexplicably, she was overcome with sadness. Las Vegas was her George place. George at his happiest. George at his least complicated. In love George. And here she was, celebrating the holidays with the woman she had come to love more than she ever thought she could love anyone, even George. And he was gone.
Arizona closed the last drawer with a satisfied thump and turned to pick up her toiletries bag. Instead she found Callie, silently weeping in front of her shot glass collection.
“Baby?” she asked.
“Ignore me!” Callie said, turning away.
“I don’t think I can do that, honey.”
“I’m just…I’m just being ridiculous,” Callie sobbed, openly crying now.
Arizona sidled over to her. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
Callie took a deep breath and tried to collect herself. “It’s Christmas, and I was just thinking...about George, I guess. About Mrs. O’Malley.” Arizona’s brow furrowed, her eyes reflecting Callie’s hurt.
“I don’t think she has merry Christmases anymore. It’s just...it’s sad.” Callie set the shot glass she had been holding back on the pile.
“Oh, Callie.”
“I’m fine! Sorry. It’s fine. I’m just emotional, I guess. Let’s forget about it and go eat cookies, okay?”
As if on queue, Arizona’s mother’s shouted down the hallway, “Ladies! You done unpacking?”
“Maybe we should-” Arizona started, but Callie cut her off.
“Just let me fix my face.”
Callie unzipped her suitcase and pulled out her dop kit, then headed for the bathroom.
Even Arizona’s bathroom reflected her personality. The toilet was covered in one of those fuzzy yarn things that Callie refused to let her buy, the countertop hosted a pile of plush pastel hand towels. Callie studied herself in the mirror. Her mascara was a mess. Taking a tissue from the box-which was covered in another furry thing that matched the toilet-she dabbed at her eyes. In the mirror, she caught sight of Arizona, leaning in the doorway, watching her.
Arizona smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Ortho, right?”
“Um...Arizona?...”
“Yes!” she replied, “Arizona Robbins. Peds surgery. I’ve seen you...everywhere really. I can’t stop looking at you.”
“Um...okay...” Callie was bewildered, but willing to play along. She turned to face her girlfriend. Arizona continued.
“You know, people talk. Where we work. They talk... a lot. So, for the sake of being honest, I think I should tell you that I know things about you.”
Callie was sussing out Arizona’s game. “What kinds of things?” she asked.
“Oh, all sorts of things. For instance, I know that you like to mix the sodas in the cafeteria - half Diet Coke, half lemonade. Which is totally gross, by the way.” Callie looked slightly offended, but Arizona forged ahead.
“I know that your favorite on-call room is on the 7th floor, but you can be convinced to go back to your apartment with the right sort of encouragement.” She blushed slightly, but continued.
“I know that you lose sleep when you have a patient in pain and you don’t know how to help. And I know that in a life or death situation, you would put yourself between me and a bullet. I definitely know that.”
Callie, whose eyes were going glassy again, fought to pull herself together. “People talk about all that?”
“Well, they like you. Some of them really like you.” Arizona took a deep breath and gathered herself, never breaking eye contact. “But Callie, I love you. I love you so much. I love everything about you. I love that you cry for George’s mom. I love that you fought for us. I love that you made me fight for you, because you deserve to be fought for. And I love how you love me. Every day how you love me. I love you, Callie. More than anything, or anyone.”
Arizona bent down on one knee and held out her hand, a teardrop diamond glimmering on her palm.
“Calliope Torres, would you marry me?
Speechless, Callie looked from Arizona’s hand to her face and back again.
“But we’re in the bathroom.”
“I thought it was kind of appropriate.”
“I --”
“Please say ‘Yes.’”
“I, I love you. So much. And......yes. Of course yes! A million times yes.”
In a split second, Arizona was off the floor and in Callie’s arms, backed against the sink, their lips meeting in a long, passionate kiss. Finally, they pulled apart and Arizona took Callie’s hand in her own and slid the ring onto it. It fit, beautifully.
“Where did you get this?” Callie asked, studying the faceted jewel on a scrolling antique setting.
“Dad. When they met you before...well, I guess he knew. It was my grandmother’s.”
Jolted back to reality, Callie remembered, “Oh my God, I have to call my mom!”
Down the hall, having listened through the thin walls to Callie’s shouts of excitement, Lieutenant Daniel Robbins and his wife raised their glasses in a toast.
----
And here's the song that inspired the fic. Otis Redding's masterful cover, and another by Sheryl Crow, if you prefer being serenaded by the ladies. ;)
Author:darsfebruary
Rating: PG - sorry! ;)
Summary: Arizona takes Callie home for Christmas.
Disclaimer: See sidebar.
A/N: Happy holidays, englishstrawbie! You asked for "a follow up to something we saw on an episode but with Callie and Arizona celebrating the holiday season together and exchanging gifts." I took a few liberties, but this roughly fits the bill. I don't know if/what you celebrate, but I hope this fic gift finds you happy with loved ones! Best wishes. <3Dars
“Merry Christmas, Baby”
Mrs. Robbins ushered the girls into the room and then left to tend to whatever the delicious dish was that was wafting the scent of cinnamon from the stovetop. “There are cookies when you’re unpacked!” she called, her voice carrying down the hall. “…And Dan made eggnog…”
Callie and Arizona stood beside the full bed, garment bags in hand, and surveyed the small bedroom. It was Callie’s first visit to the Robbins’ family home in Arlington, and the last place Arizona had lived before college and then med school. Clearly, Patricia Robbins was one of those mothers who, once her children left home, kept their bedrooms intact as a shrine to their childhoods. The room was a pale yellow, with dark wood furniture and a cheery quilted bedspread. “My grandmother made it,” Arizona said, as she caught Callie looking. She took the garment bag from Callie’s hand and headed over to the closet. Meanwhile, Callie continued checking out their accommodations.
On the far wall, next to the bathroom door, a young Cindy Crawford stretched out in a red bikini, the poster’s top right edge untacked and curling down. Callie laughed and pointed to the supermodel. “You weren’t lying.”
“I never lie!”
Callie shot Arizona a pointed look. “Okay,” she conceded, “except about the chicken pox! God, I’ll never live that down.”
Satisfied, Callie turned back to her slow exploration of the detritus of Arizona’s girlhood, while her girlfriend mumbled on. Something about how she had pretty much outgrown Cindy Crawford anyway...something something brunettes..…mumble mumble difficult women.
Callie smiled to herself as she walked over to a towering cherry bookshelf crammed with worn biology textbooks, science fair trophies, and colorful ribbon awards for years worth of equestrian competitions. She would have to ask Arizona about that later, she thought, studying a framed photograph of a focused blond-haired girl vaulting over bars atop a gorgeous chestnut horse. Even in the grainy picture, she could see some of her Arizona in there, the pure joy atop the concentration.
The room was filled with remnants of Arizona’s life before college - photo albums, slightly broken jewelry, an embarrassingly large collection of stuffed bears lined up across her dresser. “They’re Stiegs,” Arizona explained as she unpacked. “From when we lived in Germany.” Callie set the bear back down and noticed other items that hinted at Arizona’s scattered childhood. Yearbooks - each from a different school. French and German dictionaries. A small stack of kitschy shot glasses. She pulled one off the top and squinted her eyes to read the loopy scrawl, “Welcome to Las Vegas.”
Suddenly, inexplicably, she was overcome with sadness. Las Vegas was her George place. George at his happiest. George at his least complicated. In love George. And here she was, celebrating the holidays with the woman she had come to love more than she ever thought she could love anyone, even George. And he was gone.
Arizona closed the last drawer with a satisfied thump and turned to pick up her toiletries bag. Instead she found Callie, silently weeping in front of her shot glass collection.
“Baby?” she asked.
“Ignore me!” Callie said, turning away.
“I don’t think I can do that, honey.”
“I’m just…I’m just being ridiculous,” Callie sobbed, openly crying now.
Arizona sidled over to her. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
Callie took a deep breath and tried to collect herself. “It’s Christmas, and I was just thinking...about George, I guess. About Mrs. O’Malley.” Arizona’s brow furrowed, her eyes reflecting Callie’s hurt.
“I don’t think she has merry Christmases anymore. It’s just...it’s sad.” Callie set the shot glass she had been holding back on the pile.
“Oh, Callie.”
“I’m fine! Sorry. It’s fine. I’m just emotional, I guess. Let’s forget about it and go eat cookies, okay?”
As if on queue, Arizona’s mother’s shouted down the hallway, “Ladies! You done unpacking?”
“Maybe we should-” Arizona started, but Callie cut her off.
“Just let me fix my face.”
Callie unzipped her suitcase and pulled out her dop kit, then headed for the bathroom.
Even Arizona’s bathroom reflected her personality. The toilet was covered in one of those fuzzy yarn things that Callie refused to let her buy, the countertop hosted a pile of plush pastel hand towels. Callie studied herself in the mirror. Her mascara was a mess. Taking a tissue from the box-which was covered in another furry thing that matched the toilet-she dabbed at her eyes. In the mirror, she caught sight of Arizona, leaning in the doorway, watching her.
Arizona smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Ortho, right?”
“Um...Arizona?...”
“Yes!” she replied, “Arizona Robbins. Peds surgery. I’ve seen you...everywhere really. I can’t stop looking at you.”
“Um...okay...” Callie was bewildered, but willing to play along. She turned to face her girlfriend. Arizona continued.
“You know, people talk. Where we work. They talk... a lot. So, for the sake of being honest, I think I should tell you that I know things about you.”
Callie was sussing out Arizona’s game. “What kinds of things?” she asked.
“Oh, all sorts of things. For instance, I know that you like to mix the sodas in the cafeteria - half Diet Coke, half lemonade. Which is totally gross, by the way.” Callie looked slightly offended, but Arizona forged ahead.
“I know that your favorite on-call room is on the 7th floor, but you can be convinced to go back to your apartment with the right sort of encouragement.” She blushed slightly, but continued.
“I know that you lose sleep when you have a patient in pain and you don’t know how to help. And I know that in a life or death situation, you would put yourself between me and a bullet. I definitely know that.”
Callie, whose eyes were going glassy again, fought to pull herself together. “People talk about all that?”
“Well, they like you. Some of them really like you.” Arizona took a deep breath and gathered herself, never breaking eye contact. “But Callie, I love you. I love you so much. I love everything about you. I love that you cry for George’s mom. I love that you fought for us. I love that you made me fight for you, because you deserve to be fought for. And I love how you love me. Every day how you love me. I love you, Callie. More than anything, or anyone.”
Arizona bent down on one knee and held out her hand, a teardrop diamond glimmering on her palm.
“Calliope Torres, would you marry me?
Speechless, Callie looked from Arizona’s hand to her face and back again.
“But we’re in the bathroom.”
“I thought it was kind of appropriate.”
“I --”
“Please say ‘Yes.’”
“I, I love you. So much. And......yes. Of course yes! A million times yes.”
In a split second, Arizona was off the floor and in Callie’s arms, backed against the sink, their lips meeting in a long, passionate kiss. Finally, they pulled apart and Arizona took Callie’s hand in her own and slid the ring onto it. It fit, beautifully.
“Where did you get this?” Callie asked, studying the faceted jewel on a scrolling antique setting.
“Dad. When they met you before...well, I guess he knew. It was my grandmother’s.”
Jolted back to reality, Callie remembered, “Oh my God, I have to call my mom!”
Down the hall, having listened through the thin walls to Callie’s shouts of excitement, Lieutenant Daniel Robbins and his wife raised their glasses in a toast.
----
And here's the song that inspired the fic. Otis Redding's masterful cover, and another by Sheryl Crow, if you prefer being serenaded by the ladies. ;)