Fic: No Looking Back 9/?
Title: No Looking Back 9/?
Author: possibility2
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: PG-13 (for now anyways)
Summary: AU Arizona meets Callie a week before med school.
Disclaimer: All television shows, books, movies, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work and the characters, events, and settings 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.
A/N: Well deserved fluff for today. The explanation for this chapter…I was hungry. I’m off to learn about brain infections now… Enjoy! Oh by the way, yall’s comments are amazing! =D
Part 1: http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/804200.html
Part 2: http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/805563.html
Part 3: http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/807700.html
Part 4: http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/810634.html
Part 5: http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/813075.html
Part 6: http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/816224.html
Part 7: http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/817639.html
Part 8: http://community.livejournal.com/callie_arizona/819076.html
ARIZONA
I think I died and went to heaven.
When she told me she wanted to go to my apartment to talk, I just knew things were going to get uncomfortable.
I was so wrong.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think she was just going to attack me like that, like she couldn’t stop herself if she wanted to. Honestly I was shocked. It took her pulling away for me to snap out of it and realize I wasn’t imagining it. She was really kissing me, hard. It didn’t take me long to take control of the situation though. If this was a lapse of judgment on her part, I was going to at least make the most of it.
When she pulled away, my heart dropped. I thought for sure she had realized it was a mistake and was ready to bolt. But then she was so tender with me; so unlike the ‘badass’ she tries so hard to be, and more like the Callie I can see, caring and vulnerable. Like night and day, the aggressive forceful kissing was over, and it was replaced with purposeful sweet kisses. Like our lips were getting acquainted with each other, feeling each other out. I could tell by her kisses that this wasn’t just an experimental kiss-and-run; this was her wanting to know me. Know my body, my thoughts, my reactions. We spent at least an hour in my kitchen, just exploring this feeling of being close. My mind was wandering, letting my imagination paint pictures of us together, how great things could be if this works out and she doesn’t run screaming for the hills.
“Ca-Callie…” I absentmindedly try to get her attention between kisses, but she seems more preoccupied with my left dimple at the moment.
“Hmm?” I feel her hum against my cheek as she presses a slow light kiss around the indented skin as I smile.
“Cal, Callie…as…as much as I’m enjoying this, I ca-can’t feel by butt anymore…” I feel her chuckle against my cheek as I stutter out my sentence. The truth is I haven’t felt my butt for the last thirty minutes; it just took me this long to squeak that fact out of my mouth. She trails tiny kisses back towards my mouth and lingers over my lips for a few more seconds before she pulls away. I still have my legs wrapped tightly around her waist, and my arms are still tangled around her neck.
Without explanation, she flips around to face away from me, grips my thighs tightly, and before I know it she’s carrying me piggy-back style into the living room. I can’t help but giggle; I feel like I’m five years old being carried like this, and there’s just something so great about that feeling. We bounce along haphazardly until she playfully throws me down onto my blue couch, one of the only pieces of furniture I have. I know I have the goofiest smile on my face as I plop onto the couch, the cushions making me bounce a little on impact. My unruly mess of hair is spread out on the cushion, and I just lay there, looking up at her, while she looms above, just looking at me. She looks so content, happier than I’ve ever seen her, as she studies my motionless form that’s stretched out across the entire length of the couch.
When I’ve tired of the distance still between us and her uninhibited staring, I playfully stretch my arm straight up towards her, spreading my fingers out and then making a fist several times, to childishly indicate that I want her to come here. She stops my hand movements by lacing our fingers together and she sits down on the edge of the couch near my hips. I slowly pull our joined hands away from her lap, and up above my head, forcing her to lean in towards me. At the same time, I move my free hand up to the nape of her neck and gently pull her down to me. I tangle my fingers in the little hairs at the back of her neck, soothingly rubbing the soft area of skin hidden under her thick dark hair.
I’ve finally got her where I want her, half laying on top of me with our lips only inches apart, when my stomach makes the loudest gurgling noise I’ve ever heard. Her head dives to the side of my face in hysterical laughter and I yank my hand out of her hair to reach down and slap her butt playfully for making fun of me.
“Hey! Don’t laugh at me! You’ve been holding me hostage here and I’m hungry! I couldn’t help it,” I proclaim as she quickly sits up, pulling me with her, with our hands still tightly intertwined.
“Holding you hostage? You’re the one who just pulled me on top of you! Don’t try to blame me for this,” she tries to put on her intimidating voice, but I can see right through it.
“Oh just shut up and feed me!” I tell her with a big defiant grin on my face. She just looks at me incredulously at my demanding behavior for a few seconds before she’s hopped up off the couch and is picking up her purse.
“Come on Ari, you said you want to eat, let’s go eat.” She tells me patronizingly as if I’m a little kid who needs to be prodded to put on her socks and shoes. I peel myself up off the couch in search of my own purse and within seconds she’s shuffling me out the door. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to how rushed everyone seems to be in New York, even Callie.
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“Hotdogs? This is your idea of great food?” She merely shakes her head at me dismissingly.
“No, not just hotdogs…this is Papaya King hotdogs. They’re like the king of New York hotdogs. Just go get us some seats at the window and I’ll be right back. I promise you’ll like it,” she seems really into this place. I mean it doesn’t look like much, just a little corner building covered in yellow signs; but I can tell it’s been around for a while. And minus the homeless guy standing outside yelling obscenities at imaginary people, it seems like a nice enough place. I push through the crowded space towards the stool seating along the window. I realize I’m getting better at the whole being-assertive-in-the-city thing!
My inner celebration is interrupted as I see her sauntering over, pleased as can be, carrying two hotdogs and two drinks. She drops a hot dog in front of me and sets one of the drinks next to it. She seats herself and looks up at me expectantly. I look down at the hotdog and it looks different than your run of the mill summer picnic frank. It’s extra skinny and the ends are actually twisted like the ones they’d wave in front of a starving person in an old Bugs Bunny cartoon. There’s a thin line of brown mustard running its length and the bun it’s in looks like fresh made bread. I feel my stomach saying ‘take a bite’ so I pick it up and try it.
“Mmmm…why is everything so good here??” She just laughs at me and picks up her own hotdog to take a bite. After a few seconds of silent eating, I realize how hungry both of us really were. I guess all that making-out burns calories…good thing too because with all the amazing food she’s introducing me to, I’m going to need some physical activity. At that thought, my mind wanders into dirty territory, and when I awaken from my daydream, I find myself staring right at Callie’s cleavage.
She snorts at me, nearly choking on her mouthful of food, while her tanned face turns an unnaturally rosy pink. I quickly bring my eyes back up to her brown ones, embarrassment written all over my face.
“Um…what’s the drink?” I ask her, desperate to distract from the fact that I must have been drooling over her for the last few minutes. She’s still chuckling, but manages to answer through her laughter.
“Oh, I got you pineapple juice. Mine’s papaya…we can share if you want,” I smile happily at her, loving the way she’s thinking about me, being all cute and relationship-y already. I quickly pick up her cup and slurp on the straw excitedly.
“Mmmm…that’s so good too!” I quickly place her cup back down to pick up my own, eager to taste the one she ordered for me.
After I thoroughly ‘Mmmm’ about everything on our table, I take the last bite of my hotdog and pat my tummy in contentedness. She’s just sitting there watching me with a dopey smile, like as if everything I do entertains her. I cautiously place my hand over hers along the countertop, and much to my relief she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t even falter. Instead, she entwines our fingers and smiles up at me proudly. This is going to be easier than I thought.
“Well, is that monster in your stomach satisfied now?” She asks me. I laugh and nod my head eagerly. We clean up our trash and head out the door. She stops as we reach the sidewalk, and hesitates for just a moment.
I turn around just in time to see her subtly slip a twenty dollar bill to the homeless guy who seems to live out here. He looks up at her with a big toothless smile before he wanders inside to, no doubt, catch up on a few long-overdue meals. She turns back to me and brushes off my looks of admiration, shrugs her shoulders, and quickly takes my hand to keep us moving.
As she pulls me along at her usually fast pace, I can’t help stare at her in wonder of how awesome she really is, and how well she hides it from the rest of the world. I realize that maybe that attitude is what makes New Yorkers so unique. Under all the big talk they’re all big hearts. I lean over to kiss her cheek sweetly, too filled with admiration to hold it in.
“What was that for?” She asks me, a questioning smile on her face.
“For being you.”
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As soon as we get to my hallway, she pushes me up against the door playfully, planting a passionate kiss on my lips. She keeps sucking my bottom lip into her mouth and letting it pop back, all the while pushing her body flush against mine.
“Mmm, you taste like pineapple,” she mumbles before she attacks my bottom lip again, her hands rubbing up and down the sides of my abdomen.
“Well you taste like papaya…” I tease back childishly after she releases the light pressure her teeth have on my lip. She just smiles mischievously at me as her hands venture further up my body.
“Open the door Ari,” she whispers in a husky voice. I instinctually smile at the use of this new nickname she’s started to use for me. I slowly turn around to put the key in the lock, and I feel her hands surround my waist from behind now. She starts kissing my neck, something that we hadn’t gotten to yet, and it feels amazing. It also reminds me of that ridiculous freckle on her shoulder that I saw last night, making all the fantasies come flooding back to me as her lips trail further and further along my skin. I know there’s a place on the back of my neck that’s one of my weak spots, and apparently she’s just discovered it.
My eyes close and I can’t help but let a quiet moan escape as I finally turn the knob to my apartment, letting the door swing open on its own. My eyes gently drift back open when I realize her lips are no longer touching me and she’s gone completely rigid. As soon as my eyes come into focus, they widen in shock at the unexpected guest in my living room. WORST. TIMING. EVER.
“Daddy…what are you doing here?” I hear myself ask, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
Well this should be interesting…