fic: blast from the past 6/?
Title: Blast from the Past
Author: rocksteady08
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Callie/Arizona, other canon pairings
Summary: Callie and Arizona AU set in the 1950s.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Missed A Chapter?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“Give us the scoop, Torres,” Mark said, poking Callie's shoulder as she hovered inside the hood of Derek's Bel Air, changing the oil with expert precision.
“You're gonna get grease all over my jumpsuit, Sloan, and then I'm gonna knock your block off,” Callie warned, screwing the cap back on and taking a step back, closing the hood. “She looks good, Shepard. Just need to use some rubbing compound on that ugly scratch, and she's back to brand new.”
Owen tossed Callie a container of the gritty wax and a polishing cloth. She caught them easily and moved to the side of Derek's car where the scratch was, squatting down so she'd be at eye level.
“Torres...” Mark whined, squatting next to her and giving her a playful shove when she dipped the polishing cloth into the wax and poised it above the scratch.
“I'm workin' here, meathead,” Callie said, narrowing her eyes at Mark. Owen and Derek chuckled from their place in the school's auto shop: Derek on a counter next to a large toolbox, and Owen seated on top of a stool next to where Callie and Mark were.
“Sloan's nosy and never sees any action. You're the only one of us who ever sees any action, Torres,” Derek said, trying to explain why Mark was being so persistent.
“So I should give you boys all the details?” Callie asked, starting to work out the scratch with the polishing cloth. She grunted softly with exertion and then looked up, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. “I'm already doing all the grunt work for Shepard's lazy ass.”
“Not for free,” Shepard argued, raising a hand to accentuate his point. “Said I'd give you twenty bucks to change the oil, check the engine, and get the scratch out. You needed date money.”
“Shut up,” Callie said, rubbing a little harder on the scratch after getting more of the wax on the polishing cloth. She tilted her head to the side and examined the paint. It was starting to clean itself up nicely, and most likely, there would barely be a trace left behind.
“Did ya at least kiss her, Torres?” Owen asked, leaning a little closer from his place on the stool.
“God, not you, too!” Callie groaned, leaning her head against the side of the car in defeat. Three pairs of eyes all started staring her down, and she sighed heavily, looking up from the car and flailing her hands in defeat. “Fine ya pack of vultures. I kissed her, okay? We went bowling, I took her to the lake, and I kissed her. Happy now?”
“Was she a good kisser?” Derek asked, hopping off the counter.
“Where did you kiss her?” Mark asked, nudging her with his shoulder and causing the rag in her hand to slip slightly.
“You took her to the lake?” Owen chimed in, shifting his weight on the stool so it tilted slightly.
“Are you writin' a book?” Callie asked in reply, finishing her work on the scratch and standing up, sealing the canister and tossing it onto the counter next to Derek.
“Blondie's gonna make you wait to score?” Mark asked, his eyes wide with shock. “Might be worth it to see what's under those tight sweaters of hers.”
“Think fast,” Torres said through gritted teeth, tossing the wax covered rag at Mark's head, landing it perfectly on his overly greased hair.
“Watch the hair!” Mark whined, peeling the dirty rag from his head and throwing it next to Derek.
“She wasn't the one who slowed it down, boys,” Callie said, unzipping the front of her jumpsuit to reveal the white tank top she wore underneath in an attempt to cool herself down. The auto shop was always stuffy and her boys were full of hot air. “She's a different sort of broad: delicate... a thing of beauty. Like a good machine.”
“Really, Torres?” Owen asked, hanging on her every word just like the other two boys were, although Mark was pretending not to be interested.
“Really. We're talking a chrome-plated chariot with a classy chassis, my boys,” Callie said, moving her hands like she was running them down an hourglass figure. They all let out a appreciative hum, and Callie smiled. “With a thing like that, you gotta be careful. You gotta pay attention to it, ease up on the speed, make sure everything looks good under the top, and watch yourself on the curves.”
“Cristina's like that, I think,” Owen said dreamily.
“Meredith, too,” Derek replied.
“You nerds are so far gone,” Mark said haughtily. “And you, Torres! One date and the paper shaker practically has you circled. Well, I'm not playin'. Mark Sloan will not be tamed by a broad.”
“Whatever you say, Sloan,” Derek said, giving his friend a pat on the back. Callie tossed Derek the keys to his car so he could pull it out of the shop and outside where the hoses were.
“Give her a good rinse, and you'll be good to go. I'm gonna go back inside the school and change,” Callie said, holding her hand out to Derek, who slid the money she was owed into it. She closed her hand around the bills and tucked them into her wallet, grabbing her clothes and heading out of the shop. “Pleasure doin' business.”
As she walked off, Mark leaned his arm on Owen's shoulder and sighed heavily.
“There was our best friend, boys. Now she's been whipped and chained by a innocent little blue eyed blonde. Let this be a lesson to ya. No one is safe,” Mark said somberly, receiving a smack behind his head from both Owen and Derek for his words of wisdom.
Callie jogged up the steps to the school and walked through the empty hallways, turning the corner to the girl's restroom a little too quickly, causing her to smack into the person who was trying to exit at the same time. Remembering her manners, she reached out to catch the smaller framed girl who squeaked slightly at the impact. Her strong hands grasped at a slender waist, and she took stock of the girl in her arms.
“Calliope,” Arizona mused, her blue eyes darting playfully over Callie's face. The Latina blushed immediately, helping Arizona up and looking down at the ground, feeling awkward suddenly. Arizona leaned down and helped picked up Callie's fallen clothing, handing it back to her and chuckling when Callie barely made eye contact with her. Callie's palms started to ache from the realization that not only had she allowed quite the powerful grip on her crush's waist, but there had been a boob graze as well. Her mind was blurry, and her pulse was racing.
“Hi, Arizona,” Callie stuttered out, thanking the heavens for her darker complexion that made blushing less noticeable.
“You're dirty,” Arizona stated plainly, allowing her eyes to shamelessly roam Callie's body. She took in the unzipped jumpsuit that they loaned to auto shop students, letting her eyes rest on the tight white material that was underneath and that accentuated Callie's very female, very well-endowed frame. Arizona bit her bottom lip and shot Callie a knowing smirk. The Latina sure played well with her gaggle of boys, but underneath the bravado, she was all female, and Arizona loved that. “And skipping class, apparently.”
“Auto shop is a class,” Callie protested.
“Sure. A class that isn't offered this time of day,” Arizona said plainly, raising an eyebrow at Callie's rebellious streak.
“You're a wise little thing, aren't you?” Callie asked, leaning a little closer to Arizona, feeling emboldened by the girl's flirtatious advances. She braced one hand on the wall beside Arizona's head, trapping her between a few inches of space, the wall, and her body.
“It's not good to be cutting classes, Calliope,” Arizona practically whimpered out when the brunette got closer still. She smelled like sweat and motor oil, but that intoxicating Callie scent still managed through the two unpleasant ones and made the blonde lightheaded.
“Could say the same for you, doll,” Callie said, quirking her own brow. Arizona tugged at a loop around her wrist with a wooden plank attached and brought it to Callie's attention. Bathroom pass.
“I - I should get going,” Arizona said, although her body was screaming for her not to move. They were basically alone, after all, and she had been thinking about kissing Callie again since their lips parted the night before. Arizona paused, waiting for Callie to fire back some form of enticement to make her want to stay, and was disappointed when the brunette stepped back, waving her arm in the direction of the door.
“Go right ahead,” Callie said with a kind smile. “I won't hold you up.”
“You won't?” Arizona asked, hoping her dismay wouldn't show through as she stepped away from the brunette, taking a step backwards toward the door, still keeping her eyes on Callie's.
“Not now. Our second date is gonna be Saturday,” Callie said with a confident smile. “Find a way to get yourself and Meredith an excuse to come out. Shepard and I will pick you both up at Grey's house around noon.”
“I work Saturday, Calliope,” Arizona protested, even though she knew she would ditch it for more time with the brunette. She didn't need the money that badly.
“I'm pretty tight with Dino. I'll talk to him,” Callie replied curtly. Arizona nodded and smiled.
“Saturday, then,” Arizona replied, turning to walk out the door and exiting the bathroom. Callie leaned back against the wall and sighed. Saturday was way too far away for her own liking. She'd have to find ways to run into Arizona before then, just to keep her sanity. Still reeling from the short yet close contact, Callie washed her hands and changed her clothes in a daze, carrying her dirty jumpsuit and tank top out of the school with her and heading back to where the boys were, wondering if they've noticed the way she was walking now and grill her about it. She felt like she was prancing on a cloud as she floated down the steps, jogging over to where Mark, Derek, and Owen had just finished rinsing off Derek's car.
She couldn't wait to tell Derek how she had managed to score him a date with Meredith Grey.
“Torres!” an unfamiliar voice called, and she whipped her head around. Standing before her was the boy from the bowling alley, sporting an even uglier nose than before that was crooked and at least six shades of purple. She crossed her arms and stood her ground.
“You got a problem, or are you just tryin' to waste my space?” Callie asked bluntly. “Because you followin' me is old news.”
“Got something to pay you back for,” he said, taking a threatening step toward her. Callie's eyes widened, and she gulped, trying to stay brave. She was good for a few hits, and could do her share of damage, but she wasn't a brawler, and this guy was bigger than she was. He was close to Owen's size, although not as physically strong from the looks of him.
“You don't scare me,” Callie said, mostly confident in her words. The boy took another step forward, standing so close that she could smell the chewing tobacco on his breath, and she cringed. He reached forward and grabbed her by the front of her t-shirt, and she braced herself. She hoped that he'd back down or put himself in a vulnerable position so she could retaliate accordingly.
A flash of red was the next thing she saw, and when her eyes focused, Owen had the guy pinned up against the railing of the stairs, twisting her would-be attacker's arm behind his back in what had to be an incredibly painful maneuver by the way he was whimpering.
“Lay your hands on her again, and your mama won't recognize you when I'm done with you,” Owen snarled, jerking his arm up quickly so a scream tore from his throat. “Understand?”
“Jeez, man, ease up! I was playin'!” the guy whined, and Owen shoved him harder against the railing.
“I don't play like that,” Owen replied, giving him another shove.
“Sorry! Sorry!” the guy screamed, and Owen held on a second later before releasing him. The guy ran off as fast as his legs could take him, and Owen jogged the three steps over to where Callie was standing, stunned.
“You okay, Torres?” Owen asked, crossing his arms and looking her over for any visible signs of trauma.
“I'm good, Hunt. Thanks,” Callie said, giving her friend a pat on the shoulder and squeezing to show her gratitude.
“You may be one of the boys, Torres, but you're our girl, too,” Owen said. “You're family.”
No more words needed to be said. Callie smiled and wrapped her arm around Owen's shoulders as they walked back to Derek's car.
“I owe you,” Callie said to Owen when they got up to where Derek and Mark were standing, preparing to launch into a slew of questions at what happened. They had been close enough to see everything, but too far to hear any of the conversation. “I'm gonna see if Cristina and Lexie can tag along on the date I've already set up for me and Shepard with Arizona and Meredith.”
“When?” Owen asked, his eyes wide. Derek's jaw dropped in shock, and Mark looked smug, but happy.
“I'll fill you in on the way to Dino's. We can skip the rest of the day,” Callie said, opening the passenger door so Owen and Mark could climb in the back.
“Torres? You got me a date with Meredith Grey?” Derek asked, his knees wobbling a little bit. He stayed glued to the spot he was standing even when Callie got into the passenger seat and started to shut the door.
“Cool your jets, Shepard,” Callie said with a brilliant smile. “It was nothing. We're family.”
Suddenly, Saturday didn't seem so far away. They had lots of planning to do in order to create four perfect dates, and only two days to plan them.
Author: rocksteady08
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Callie/Arizona, other canon pairings
Summary: Callie and Arizona AU set in the 1950s.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Missed A Chapter?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“Give us the scoop, Torres,” Mark said, poking Callie's shoulder as she hovered inside the hood of Derek's Bel Air, changing the oil with expert precision.
“You're gonna get grease all over my jumpsuit, Sloan, and then I'm gonna knock your block off,” Callie warned, screwing the cap back on and taking a step back, closing the hood. “She looks good, Shepard. Just need to use some rubbing compound on that ugly scratch, and she's back to brand new.”
Owen tossed Callie a container of the gritty wax and a polishing cloth. She caught them easily and moved to the side of Derek's car where the scratch was, squatting down so she'd be at eye level.
“Torres...” Mark whined, squatting next to her and giving her a playful shove when she dipped the polishing cloth into the wax and poised it above the scratch.
“I'm workin' here, meathead,” Callie said, narrowing her eyes at Mark. Owen and Derek chuckled from their place in the school's auto shop: Derek on a counter next to a large toolbox, and Owen seated on top of a stool next to where Callie and Mark were.
“Sloan's nosy and never sees any action. You're the only one of us who ever sees any action, Torres,” Derek said, trying to explain why Mark was being so persistent.
“So I should give you boys all the details?” Callie asked, starting to work out the scratch with the polishing cloth. She grunted softly with exertion and then looked up, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. “I'm already doing all the grunt work for Shepard's lazy ass.”
“Not for free,” Shepard argued, raising a hand to accentuate his point. “Said I'd give you twenty bucks to change the oil, check the engine, and get the scratch out. You needed date money.”
“Shut up,” Callie said, rubbing a little harder on the scratch after getting more of the wax on the polishing cloth. She tilted her head to the side and examined the paint. It was starting to clean itself up nicely, and most likely, there would barely be a trace left behind.
“Did ya at least kiss her, Torres?” Owen asked, leaning a little closer from his place on the stool.
“God, not you, too!” Callie groaned, leaning her head against the side of the car in defeat. Three pairs of eyes all started staring her down, and she sighed heavily, looking up from the car and flailing her hands in defeat. “Fine ya pack of vultures. I kissed her, okay? We went bowling, I took her to the lake, and I kissed her. Happy now?”
“Was she a good kisser?” Derek asked, hopping off the counter.
“Where did you kiss her?” Mark asked, nudging her with his shoulder and causing the rag in her hand to slip slightly.
“You took her to the lake?” Owen chimed in, shifting his weight on the stool so it tilted slightly.
“Are you writin' a book?” Callie asked in reply, finishing her work on the scratch and standing up, sealing the canister and tossing it onto the counter next to Derek.
“Blondie's gonna make you wait to score?” Mark asked, his eyes wide with shock. “Might be worth it to see what's under those tight sweaters of hers.”
“Think fast,” Torres said through gritted teeth, tossing the wax covered rag at Mark's head, landing it perfectly on his overly greased hair.
“Watch the hair!” Mark whined, peeling the dirty rag from his head and throwing it next to Derek.
“She wasn't the one who slowed it down, boys,” Callie said, unzipping the front of her jumpsuit to reveal the white tank top she wore underneath in an attempt to cool herself down. The auto shop was always stuffy and her boys were full of hot air. “She's a different sort of broad: delicate... a thing of beauty. Like a good machine.”
“Really, Torres?” Owen asked, hanging on her every word just like the other two boys were, although Mark was pretending not to be interested.
“Really. We're talking a chrome-plated chariot with a classy chassis, my boys,” Callie said, moving her hands like she was running them down an hourglass figure. They all let out a appreciative hum, and Callie smiled. “With a thing like that, you gotta be careful. You gotta pay attention to it, ease up on the speed, make sure everything looks good under the top, and watch yourself on the curves.”
“Cristina's like that, I think,” Owen said dreamily.
“Meredith, too,” Derek replied.
“You nerds are so far gone,” Mark said haughtily. “And you, Torres! One date and the paper shaker practically has you circled. Well, I'm not playin'. Mark Sloan will not be tamed by a broad.”
“Whatever you say, Sloan,” Derek said, giving his friend a pat on the back. Callie tossed Derek the keys to his car so he could pull it out of the shop and outside where the hoses were.
“Give her a good rinse, and you'll be good to go. I'm gonna go back inside the school and change,” Callie said, holding her hand out to Derek, who slid the money she was owed into it. She closed her hand around the bills and tucked them into her wallet, grabbing her clothes and heading out of the shop. “Pleasure doin' business.”
As she walked off, Mark leaned his arm on Owen's shoulder and sighed heavily.
“There was our best friend, boys. Now she's been whipped and chained by a innocent little blue eyed blonde. Let this be a lesson to ya. No one is safe,” Mark said somberly, receiving a smack behind his head from both Owen and Derek for his words of wisdom.
Callie jogged up the steps to the school and walked through the empty hallways, turning the corner to the girl's restroom a little too quickly, causing her to smack into the person who was trying to exit at the same time. Remembering her manners, she reached out to catch the smaller framed girl who squeaked slightly at the impact. Her strong hands grasped at a slender waist, and she took stock of the girl in her arms.
“Calliope,” Arizona mused, her blue eyes darting playfully over Callie's face. The Latina blushed immediately, helping Arizona up and looking down at the ground, feeling awkward suddenly. Arizona leaned down and helped picked up Callie's fallen clothing, handing it back to her and chuckling when Callie barely made eye contact with her. Callie's palms started to ache from the realization that not only had she allowed quite the powerful grip on her crush's waist, but there had been a boob graze as well. Her mind was blurry, and her pulse was racing.
“Hi, Arizona,” Callie stuttered out, thanking the heavens for her darker complexion that made blushing less noticeable.
“You're dirty,” Arizona stated plainly, allowing her eyes to shamelessly roam Callie's body. She took in the unzipped jumpsuit that they loaned to auto shop students, letting her eyes rest on the tight white material that was underneath and that accentuated Callie's very female, very well-endowed frame. Arizona bit her bottom lip and shot Callie a knowing smirk. The Latina sure played well with her gaggle of boys, but underneath the bravado, she was all female, and Arizona loved that. “And skipping class, apparently.”
“Auto shop is a class,” Callie protested.
“Sure. A class that isn't offered this time of day,” Arizona said plainly, raising an eyebrow at Callie's rebellious streak.
“You're a wise little thing, aren't you?” Callie asked, leaning a little closer to Arizona, feeling emboldened by the girl's flirtatious advances. She braced one hand on the wall beside Arizona's head, trapping her between a few inches of space, the wall, and her body.
“It's not good to be cutting classes, Calliope,” Arizona practically whimpered out when the brunette got closer still. She smelled like sweat and motor oil, but that intoxicating Callie scent still managed through the two unpleasant ones and made the blonde lightheaded.
“Could say the same for you, doll,” Callie said, quirking her own brow. Arizona tugged at a loop around her wrist with a wooden plank attached and brought it to Callie's attention. Bathroom pass.
“I - I should get going,” Arizona said, although her body was screaming for her not to move. They were basically alone, after all, and she had been thinking about kissing Callie again since their lips parted the night before. Arizona paused, waiting for Callie to fire back some form of enticement to make her want to stay, and was disappointed when the brunette stepped back, waving her arm in the direction of the door.
“Go right ahead,” Callie said with a kind smile. “I won't hold you up.”
“You won't?” Arizona asked, hoping her dismay wouldn't show through as she stepped away from the brunette, taking a step backwards toward the door, still keeping her eyes on Callie's.
“Not now. Our second date is gonna be Saturday,” Callie said with a confident smile. “Find a way to get yourself and Meredith an excuse to come out. Shepard and I will pick you both up at Grey's house around noon.”
“I work Saturday, Calliope,” Arizona protested, even though she knew she would ditch it for more time with the brunette. She didn't need the money that badly.
“I'm pretty tight with Dino. I'll talk to him,” Callie replied curtly. Arizona nodded and smiled.
“Saturday, then,” Arizona replied, turning to walk out the door and exiting the bathroom. Callie leaned back against the wall and sighed. Saturday was way too far away for her own liking. She'd have to find ways to run into Arizona before then, just to keep her sanity. Still reeling from the short yet close contact, Callie washed her hands and changed her clothes in a daze, carrying her dirty jumpsuit and tank top out of the school with her and heading back to where the boys were, wondering if they've noticed the way she was walking now and grill her about it. She felt like she was prancing on a cloud as she floated down the steps, jogging over to where Mark, Derek, and Owen had just finished rinsing off Derek's car.
She couldn't wait to tell Derek how she had managed to score him a date with Meredith Grey.
“Torres!” an unfamiliar voice called, and she whipped her head around. Standing before her was the boy from the bowling alley, sporting an even uglier nose than before that was crooked and at least six shades of purple. She crossed her arms and stood her ground.
“You got a problem, or are you just tryin' to waste my space?” Callie asked bluntly. “Because you followin' me is old news.”
“Got something to pay you back for,” he said, taking a threatening step toward her. Callie's eyes widened, and she gulped, trying to stay brave. She was good for a few hits, and could do her share of damage, but she wasn't a brawler, and this guy was bigger than she was. He was close to Owen's size, although not as physically strong from the looks of him.
“You don't scare me,” Callie said, mostly confident in her words. The boy took another step forward, standing so close that she could smell the chewing tobacco on his breath, and she cringed. He reached forward and grabbed her by the front of her t-shirt, and she braced herself. She hoped that he'd back down or put himself in a vulnerable position so she could retaliate accordingly.
A flash of red was the next thing she saw, and when her eyes focused, Owen had the guy pinned up against the railing of the stairs, twisting her would-be attacker's arm behind his back in what had to be an incredibly painful maneuver by the way he was whimpering.
“Lay your hands on her again, and your mama won't recognize you when I'm done with you,” Owen snarled, jerking his arm up quickly so a scream tore from his throat. “Understand?”
“Jeez, man, ease up! I was playin'!” the guy whined, and Owen shoved him harder against the railing.
“I don't play like that,” Owen replied, giving him another shove.
“Sorry! Sorry!” the guy screamed, and Owen held on a second later before releasing him. The guy ran off as fast as his legs could take him, and Owen jogged the three steps over to where Callie was standing, stunned.
“You okay, Torres?” Owen asked, crossing his arms and looking her over for any visible signs of trauma.
“I'm good, Hunt. Thanks,” Callie said, giving her friend a pat on the shoulder and squeezing to show her gratitude.
“You may be one of the boys, Torres, but you're our girl, too,” Owen said. “You're family.”
No more words needed to be said. Callie smiled and wrapped her arm around Owen's shoulders as they walked back to Derek's car.
“I owe you,” Callie said to Owen when they got up to where Derek and Mark were standing, preparing to launch into a slew of questions at what happened. They had been close enough to see everything, but too far to hear any of the conversation. “I'm gonna see if Cristina and Lexie can tag along on the date I've already set up for me and Shepard with Arizona and Meredith.”
“When?” Owen asked, his eyes wide. Derek's jaw dropped in shock, and Mark looked smug, but happy.
“I'll fill you in on the way to Dino's. We can skip the rest of the day,” Callie said, opening the passenger door so Owen and Mark could climb in the back.
“Torres? You got me a date with Meredith Grey?” Derek asked, his knees wobbling a little bit. He stayed glued to the spot he was standing even when Callie got into the passenger seat and started to shut the door.
“Cool your jets, Shepard,” Callie said with a brilliant smile. “It was nothing. We're family.”
Suddenly, Saturday didn't seem so far away. They had lots of planning to do in order to create four perfect dates, and only two days to plan them.