Fic: Well Maybe What You Want is Right Here 9/?
Title: Well Maybe What You Want is Right Here 9/?
Pairing: Arizona/Callie
Rating: M
Summary: Sometimes we don't realize what we want until we just know. And sometimes we realize that certain things are worth fighting for. Starts a day or two after the scene in 11x08. Timeline may not be perfectly canon.
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.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
The next few weeks seem to pass in a blur.
Dr. Herman and I are in surgery almost every minute of the day - she's determined to teach me absolutely everything she knows before her time is up, as she puts it, which is no small feat. Nearly impossible if we're honest with ourselves, but she's determined and she's a stubborn woman, so she refuses to back down and so do I. We’d become friends over the last month or two, which was a nice change from how we started out. I actually really liked the woman - and although it made her impending surgery all the more worrisome, I was thoroughly enjoying the time we spent together now.
Callie and I found time for a few more dates on our nights off though -- we went for dinner a couple times, and we'd even gone out for drinks and a movie one Friday evening after Alex insisted on taking Sofia. It had been...really, really great so far. Easy. Sometimes it felt like we had never been apart, but it also felt different somehow. Like we were being more open about everything. Like there was now a solid foundation being built where before, we'd lived on the precipice of a mud slide.
Yesterday we’d had lunch together at the hospital for the first time; I sigh to myself, signing off on a chart at the nurses’ desk - which no doubt started the hospital rumour mill going. And while we’d obviously been talking at work more, and acting friendly, it was still something we had hoped to avoid for a little longer. But with our schedules it had been a week since we’d really seen each other, so when she came to my office with a coffee and an offer of crappy cafeteria food I couldn’t say no.
I pass the chart back to the nurse at the desk just as I feel my phone start to vibrate in my lab coat, pulling me from my thoughts. Slipping it out, I glance at the screen out of habit before answering.
“Hey, Callie, what’s up?”
“Can you take Sofia home tonight? We just got a huge multi-car collision in. I’m about to go in on the first of at least three surgeries, so there’s no way I’m out of here tonight,” she speaks hurriedly, and I can hear the telltale sounds of a hectic ER in the background.
“Hey, of course...I’ll take her,” I remember that I’m supposed to be spending the evening studying with Herman, but my daughter’s always going to come first, so I’ll figure something out.
“Ok, thank you, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Tell her I love her.”
The line goes dead and I slip the phone back into my pocket, mentally reviewing what Herman and I had set out for tonight. We didn’t have a surgery scheduled, but I’d promised her that I would stay nonetheless. We were going to review some things for tomorrow and...I just didn't like her spending all her nights alone lately if I’m honest, so the hospital lounge had kind of become my temporary home too.
Well, I thought, checking my watch - maybe Sofia could just join us tonight. Surely my mentor would understand.
*
I finish my rounds on our patients and get the rest of today's charting done, and after checking in with Alex and a favourite recurring patient of mine on the Peds floor, I head up to the daycare. I should probably just leave Sofia here for the night, but when I think of how much time our daughter has spent in other peoples’ care over the last couple months it makes my heart ache. It's bad enough that her family was torn apart; she should at least get to spend time with each of her parents.
I check in at the desk and head into the playroom, spying the small dark-haired child over in the reading nook, a large picture book spread open in her lap.
“Hi, miss Sofia!” I smile as I head over, crouching in front of her to capture her attention.
She looks up from the book and a broad grin spreads across her beautiful face.
“Hi mama!”
“You’re going to spend the night with me tonight, how does that sound?”
She drops the book beside her and scurries up, wrapping her little arms around my neck warmly.
“Yah! Love mama. And I want nuggets.”
I laugh softly and give her a kiss, hugging her back before I let go and stand up, offering her my hand.
“I love you too. And we can get nuggets, let’s go.”
*
After a much longer than necessary walk to the cafeteria - Sofia loves wandering the hospital - I finally end up back at my office with the toddler in one arm and a bag of food from the cafeteria in the other. I awkwardly grab the notebooks I need from my desk and head down the hall to the lounge that Herman and I had appropriated, nudging the door open and carefully heading inside.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’m here, I brought food.”
The older doctor looks over from the couch against one wall, and I catch the surprised look that briefly crosses her features.
“I hope you like chicken nuggets,” I drop the bag unceremoniously on the little coffee table, flashing her a grin, “nothing but Seattle’s finest.”
Sofia looks around the room, and then eyes the other woman a little warily, as if sizing her up.
“Mama, who is dat?”
I kiss her cheek lightly, tucking hair behind her ear.
“That is mama’s friend Nicole. Also mama’s boss, which means she’s very important, so be nice, ok?”
She looks at me with a thoughtful expression.
“But why we here?”
“Because I need to stay here and do some work tonight, and mommy had to go help a bunch of sick people downstairs too. But you’d rather sleep here with me than at daycare, wouldn’t you?” I tickle her belly lightly, earning a delightful little giggle.
“Yah!”
Smiling, I set the child down on the opposite couch and unpack the food, setting her up with her nuggets and fries to keep her occupied. I glance toward my mentor and see her watching with a slightly amused expression, so I slowly slide the next box of nuggets over toward her. Food will pacify her.
“I hope this is alright...Callie got pulled into the ER and asked if I could take her...I just didn’t want to leave her in daycare all night. She’ll be quiet though, don’t worry. I’ve got some colouring books and things and she’ll keep herself entertained until she falls asleep.”
She pushes some books aside, taking the food I offer, still wearing a slightly bemused expression at my little ramble.
“So this is your daughter. I was starting to wonder if she actually existed,” her tone doesn’t carry any hint of annoyance or anger, so I sit back on the couch beside Sofia and let out a slight sigh of relief.
“This is Sofia, yes,” I smile proudly at the little girl, reaching down to help her with a napkin, “I just never...I mean I didn’t think you’d care about...” I glance over again, “You never sounded like much of a kid person.”
She lets out a gravelly laugh at my admission and opens the takeout box, stretching her legs out along the length of the other couch.
“Well you’re right about that. Unborn fetuses, yes. But once they come out I tend to stay away. That doesn't mean I hate them though.”
“What’s a peetuses?” Sofia interrupts, looking up curiously at both of us.
I pause for a minute, trying to think of a reasonable explanation for a three year old, but before I can speak up Nicole answers her in no uncertain terms.
"First of all, it's fee-tus, F like fingers," she waggles the fingers of one hand, "and a fetus is what we call a baby before it's born. When it's in the mother's belly."
Watching as my daughter processes this information, I'm inwardly surprised at the fetal surgeon's easy response to the child.
"Why the baby in mama's belly?" she scrunches up her nose a little and looks at me, "Mama has a fee-tus?"
"No, sweetie, I don't. Not every mother does. But that's where babies grow. You grew in mommy's belly before you were born."
She considers this information again, small brow furrowed in concentration, and then looks over at the other doctor.
"Is the fee-tus sick? My mama helps sick peoples. I was sick when I was born."
"She does indeed. Your mama is very good at helping sick people -- she does surgery on the fetuses when they're very, very tiny."
"I had sur-gry!”
My mentor glances at me, clearly curious, and I know I’ll have to tell her more about that story later.
“Well, the fetuses are even tinier than you.”
“Like a fwench fwy!” she giggles, holding one up, “Cool.”
Sofia munches the fry and beams happily, and Nicole bursts out laughing. I can't help but grin too as the toddler resumes eating the rest of her meal, seemingly satisfied with that explanation.
"Looks like you might have a budding surgeon on your hands there, Robbins. Maybe fetal surgery will become a family trade."
"Who knows. Last I heard she was planning on being an astronaut," I grin at her, "the kid's got lofty goals."
The other woman just chuckles, pulling the stack of notebooks and case files back over from the other side of the table.
"Well she is your daughter; she'll probably do both. Now come over here, Robbins -- let's get at these files while the child is distracted."
*
Several hours, some ice cream (which made her Herman's biggest fan), and much colouring later, Sofia is fast asleep on the couch, her head pillowed on my lap as I pour over the last of the surgical notes for tomorrow. I stroke my daughter's hair absently as I lean over the table, pulling one of the surgical texts a little closer.
"I feel like I'm not ready for this surgery tomorrow. This is huge."
Herman sits up, rolling her shoulders a little before settling back into the cushions of the couch to relax.
"Robbins, you're ready. And if you're not, it's too late anyway, so stop making me go over the same damn notes."
"I'm just trying to make sure I get it!"
She rolls her eyes slightly, that amused smile tugging at her lips as she folds one arm under her head.
"I chose the right horse. You get it. Now shh, the tumour is tired."
Slumping back into the couch myself, I let out a heavy sigh. I know she's right -- I've got this. I've got her notes and every move of this surgery memorised already. That doesn't mean I'm not scared as hell about it though; we've never worked on a fetus this young before. It's going to be the hardest one yet.
"I know."
We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I let my fingers trail softly through Sofia's hair. My eyes drift down to her face -- such a miniature version of her mother. I can see Mark in her sometimes too, but she is overwhelmingly Callie's daughter.
"Seems like someone else is tired too. You should take her home."
"Hm?" I look up, rubbing a corner of my own exhausted eyes, "you don't mind if she just stays here, do you? She'll be out for the night now."
The other woman looks over pointedly, giving me an exasperated expression.
"Robbins, take your child home so she can sleep in her own bed instead of these second-rate couches."
I look down at Sofia again, smoothing my hand along her side.
"She'd just sleep in bed with me anyway. My home isn't really....home right now."
Nicole shifts up, sitting so she can look over and face me. I can tell she's studying me in that way she has, the way she does before she's about to launch into something, so I glance up to meet her eyes.
"Don't you still have a key to your actual house?"
I frown slightly - not what I was expecting.
"Well, yeah...we haven't really dealt with any of that, but....it's not my house anymore. I don't live there, you know that."
She snorts a little, shaking her head.
"Yes, I’m aware," she responds drily, "you like to bunk up with your resident and his girlfriend. And apparently get into all kinds of pants-optional shenanigans."
Her tone brings a slight scowl and a blush to my face, and I slump into the back of the couch, not bothering to reply.
"Listen," she waves her hand nonchalantly, "from what you've told me, your ex didn't actually kick you out, so technically it's still your house. And besides, you two have been looking awfully friendly lately..."
"We're kind of dating again," I let it slip out without thought, giving a half shrug of my shoulder.
Her interest instantly piqued, Nicole leans in on her elbows, eyebrows raised.
"You're dating your ex-wife? You're dating a woman you married, cheated on, and then who divorced you after an emotional showdown? Oh this keeps getting better and better. Tell me more."
I sigh, knowing she isn't going to give this up easily now. The woman’s become a downright gossipmonger.
"There's not that much to tell. We've gone out a handful of times...we decided we wanted to start over and really make it work, and..." I smile a little, "it's been working so far."
"You sound hopeful, Robbins."
"I am."
She runs a hand through her hair, making a slight face.
"God, you couldn't pay me to date my ex-husband again. But you know, this gives you even more rights to use the key."
"Wouldn't it be weird? Callie comes home and finds what? Me sleeping on the couch? Just making myself at home in the spare bedroom after five months? I said we're dating, we're not moving back in together yet. Not nearly."
"Ha!" she points, "Yet. And no, Robbins -- what's weird is that you're dating your ex-wife to begin with."
She gives me a delighted smile and chuckles.
"I love it. So just go with it, and take that poor child home already. I'm sure she spends enough of her life in this damn hospital."
She studies Sofia's sleeping form for a moment, then looks back up at me, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"Besides, I think she actually likes me. She might even try to climb over here," she points squarely at me, "and I don't do cuddles. With grown-ups or children."
*
I give in, against my better judgement, and half an hour later I'm pulling into the driveway of my former home. I park and just look out at the house, so many memories of the last year flooding my thoughts. I hadn't really allowed myself to miss this place, had tried to suppress the feelings just like I'd tried to suppress the feelings I had for Callie. But the truth was I did miss it.
The realtor had given us some time to look around and talk after having the grand tour, as she wandered off to take a call. But I already know this is the one. It’s perfect.
"Callie," I look over my shoulder, waving her over, "come and look at this backyard."
She crosses the kitchen to my side and I look out through the glass patio doors again, pointing.
"It doesn't have a pool, but it's even bigger than at the blue house, and look! It has this huge deck, and those three huge, old trees -- can't you just picture our girls playing hide and seek around those trees? And reading under them in the summer...oh and catching butterflies!"
"And trying to climb them and breaking their bones," Callie laughs, looking down at me, "our girls, huh? You're still so sure this one is gonna be a girl. You know we can't find out for months yet, right?"
I just smile at her before training my gaze on the backyard again.
"Just a feeling. Sara, maybe. Or Audrey."
I feel Callie's arms slide around my midsection, and she drops a kiss on my shoulder before resting her chin there.
"I can see it. I can see us here.”
By some miracle, the house we wanted had still been for sale when we finally decided we were ready for it again months later, which had seemed like a genuine sign at the time. And it was...it was still home. Shaking off the memory of that day and the slight pang of sadness that strikes me, I climb out of the car and get Sofia unbuckled from her seat in the back, carefully lifting my sleeping girl and cradling her against my shoulder. A comforting smell overwhelms me when we step through the door and I can't help but smile a little to myself at that. I've been over a few times, obviously, since we'd split, so I know that nothing has changed inside -- but it's still nice to see the familiar furnishings and decorations that we chose together.
It's a little weird, it strikes me, as I head down the hallway toward Sofia's bedroom -- a lot of my stuff is still here. Books and music, knickknacks...even photos of my family are mostly still here, sharing space with Callie's things. Because they'd become our things over the years. But we'd never gotten together to officially divide anything up, hadn't even talked about it really...I just came and got things as I needed them and she never complained. In hindsight, I wonder what that says about us.
I lay Sofia down in her bed and gently undress her, getting her changed into pajamas and tucked in under the covers. She wakes only a little, blinking sleepily at me as she snuggles into the soft pillow.
"Mama?"
"Shh, baby, just go back to sleep. We're home," I whisper softly, smoothing my hand along her hip.
She murmurs something incomprehensible and her eyes close again, so I turn off the bedside lamp and quietly ease out of the room, stifling a yawn myself. Glancing down the hall toward our -- Callie's, I remind myself -- bedroom, I decide against going to peek in even though part of me really, really wants to. I cross the hall instead into the guest room and, rubbing my eyes, settle down on top of the neatly made bed. May as well get some sleep.
*
Callie
To say I'm surprised when I see Arizona's car parked in the driveway is an understatement. As I head up into the house, I can see that the light is on in the front hall too - I never bother with it, but Arizona always left it on when she knew I'd be home late.
I lock up behind myself and switch the light off, quietly making my way down the hall. Glancing into Sofia's room, I can see her small figure curled up in bed, her even breathing indicating that she's deep in slumber. It seems strange that Arizona would come back here with her....she'd never done that before. And clearly it didn't seem like anything was wrong.
A lamp is on in the guest room, and that's where I find her. The blonde is stretched out on top of the covers like she didn't intend to stay there, but I can tell by the sound of her breathing that she's lost to sleep just as much as our daughter is. She'd been telling me how busy the last few weeks had been; I know she's got to be just exhausted.
I quietly move across the room, intending to switch the lamp off, but when I look down I notice that she still has her leg on. I bite my lip a little, just watching her chest rise and fall. I know I should just leave the room, let her be...but I also know how sore her leg will be in the morning if she sleeps with the prosthetic all night.
My fingers flex a little by my sides as I contemplate the inappropriateness of trying to slip her pants and her leg off for her, and the chances that she'll wake up while I'm doing so. My mind made up though, I decide the worst that can happen is she wakes up and yells at me. Which is significantly better than letting her have a miserable, painful day tomorrow when she’s got babies to save.
I lean over and carefully unbutton her jeans, slipping them over her slim hips and tugging them from under her until I can slide them down her legs. She stirs a little but doesn't seem to wake, and I swallow a lump in my throat as I divert my eyes from the creamy bare skin of her thighs. Tossing the jeans over the chair by the bed, I quietly manoeuvre her leg off as well and prop it within reach against the nightstand.
It's only when I go to slip the lining off her limb that she blinks awake, sleepy confusion clouding her eyes as she leans up a bit on her elbow.
"Calliope...?"
My name falls from her lips in a murmur, and I glance up, giving her leg a soothing rub.
"Shh," I murmur back, pulling at the blankets until she shifts enough to let me tuck them over her, "go back to sleep. I just got home."
"Mm I should go..."
I reach up and smooth back the hair falling into her face, softly running my fingers along her jaw. Without thinking about it I find myself pressing an intimate kiss to her temple, lingering just a moment as I inhale the soft, familiar smell of her shampoo.
"Just go to sleep," I whisper the words quietly, giving her a small smile, "it's nearly 2 a.m. I just wanted you to be more comfortable."
She lets out a sleepy breath, letting her eyes close again, and now that she's under the covers she rolls to her side and snuggles in a little deeper. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that part of me wants to climb in and curl up behind her...but, I sigh inwardly, I won't. Despite what happened the other week I don't think we're there yet, and I don’t want to rush this.
"Mmk."
Sleepy Arizona is probably one of my favourite things in the world though. I smile and lean over, dropping another light kiss on her head, and she sighs contently.
Yep. Absolute favourite.
Switching the lamp off, I quietly make my way out and down the hall, pausing for a moment to lean my forehead against the door frame to my own room. I want Arizona to live here again. I've been lonely here, more than I’ve been willing to admit, in this house that we chose. It bears so many marks of the other woman...and I wouldn’t change it for anything.
"Nothing too dark -- you know I can't live in the bat cave, Calliope. You agreed that we had to agree on the paint!"
I groan inwardly at the paint samples she's waving in front of me as we stand at the hardware store, perusing colours for the third time in as many weeks. They all look like they belong in a beach house.
"Ok, but nothing pastel either! Seriously what’s wrong with some jewel tones? I can handle lighter colours, but if it belongs in an Easter basket it is not going on the walls of our home."
She wrinkles her nose a little, looking at her samples again before putting a few back.
"Okay...what about these? They're vibrant, but still light enough."
I grab the little paint cards and contemplate them carefully -- shades of blue and green and purple that are somewhat middle of the road. The green for the living room is actually a fairly rich, emerald colour, which I know is a concession she's willingly made...I saw the much, much lighter shade she picked last week.
"I like these...if I can choose some edgy artwork to go with it. Something abstract. To make it badass."
I look at her as one blonde eyebrow raises questioningly, and I fix her with my best no-nonsense stare. She draws out our showdown for a long minute, then smiles and leans in to kiss my cheek.
"Deal."
We’d had some really happy times then. Things weren’t perfect between us, and we were still working on our relationship when we moved into the house, but...we’d had some truly happy moments. Smiling a little at the purple-grey wall of the bedroom -- which I've actually come to love -- I realize that even if we're not sleeping together...knowing she's just down the hall is a comfort all on its own.
Maybe we can talk about that in the morning. Maybe...I mean, it can’t hurt to ask, right?
Pairing: Arizona/Callie
Rating: M
Summary: Sometimes we don't realize what we want until we just know. And sometimes we realize that certain things are worth fighting for. Starts a day or two after the scene in 11x08. Timeline may not be perfectly canon.
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.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
The next few weeks seem to pass in a blur.
Dr. Herman and I are in surgery almost every minute of the day - she's determined to teach me absolutely everything she knows before her time is up, as she puts it, which is no small feat. Nearly impossible if we're honest with ourselves, but she's determined and she's a stubborn woman, so she refuses to back down and so do I. We’d become friends over the last month or two, which was a nice change from how we started out. I actually really liked the woman - and although it made her impending surgery all the more worrisome, I was thoroughly enjoying the time we spent together now.
Callie and I found time for a few more dates on our nights off though -- we went for dinner a couple times, and we'd even gone out for drinks and a movie one Friday evening after Alex insisted on taking Sofia. It had been...really, really great so far. Easy. Sometimes it felt like we had never been apart, but it also felt different somehow. Like we were being more open about everything. Like there was now a solid foundation being built where before, we'd lived on the precipice of a mud slide.
Yesterday we’d had lunch together at the hospital for the first time; I sigh to myself, signing off on a chart at the nurses’ desk - which no doubt started the hospital rumour mill going. And while we’d obviously been talking at work more, and acting friendly, it was still something we had hoped to avoid for a little longer. But with our schedules it had been a week since we’d really seen each other, so when she came to my office with a coffee and an offer of crappy cafeteria food I couldn’t say no.
I pass the chart back to the nurse at the desk just as I feel my phone start to vibrate in my lab coat, pulling me from my thoughts. Slipping it out, I glance at the screen out of habit before answering.
“Hey, Callie, what’s up?”
“Can you take Sofia home tonight? We just got a huge multi-car collision in. I’m about to go in on the first of at least three surgeries, so there’s no way I’m out of here tonight,” she speaks hurriedly, and I can hear the telltale sounds of a hectic ER in the background.
“Hey, of course...I’ll take her,” I remember that I’m supposed to be spending the evening studying with Herman, but my daughter’s always going to come first, so I’ll figure something out.
“Ok, thank you, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Tell her I love her.”
The line goes dead and I slip the phone back into my pocket, mentally reviewing what Herman and I had set out for tonight. We didn’t have a surgery scheduled, but I’d promised her that I would stay nonetheless. We were going to review some things for tomorrow and...I just didn't like her spending all her nights alone lately if I’m honest, so the hospital lounge had kind of become my temporary home too.
Well, I thought, checking my watch - maybe Sofia could just join us tonight. Surely my mentor would understand.
*
I finish my rounds on our patients and get the rest of today's charting done, and after checking in with Alex and a favourite recurring patient of mine on the Peds floor, I head up to the daycare. I should probably just leave Sofia here for the night, but when I think of how much time our daughter has spent in other peoples’ care over the last couple months it makes my heart ache. It's bad enough that her family was torn apart; she should at least get to spend time with each of her parents.
I check in at the desk and head into the playroom, spying the small dark-haired child over in the reading nook, a large picture book spread open in her lap.
“Hi, miss Sofia!” I smile as I head over, crouching in front of her to capture her attention.
She looks up from the book and a broad grin spreads across her beautiful face.
“Hi mama!”
“You’re going to spend the night with me tonight, how does that sound?”
She drops the book beside her and scurries up, wrapping her little arms around my neck warmly.
“Yah! Love mama. And I want nuggets.”
I laugh softly and give her a kiss, hugging her back before I let go and stand up, offering her my hand.
“I love you too. And we can get nuggets, let’s go.”
*
After a much longer than necessary walk to the cafeteria - Sofia loves wandering the hospital - I finally end up back at my office with the toddler in one arm and a bag of food from the cafeteria in the other. I awkwardly grab the notebooks I need from my desk and head down the hall to the lounge that Herman and I had appropriated, nudging the door open and carefully heading inside.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’m here, I brought food.”
The older doctor looks over from the couch against one wall, and I catch the surprised look that briefly crosses her features.
“I hope you like chicken nuggets,” I drop the bag unceremoniously on the little coffee table, flashing her a grin, “nothing but Seattle’s finest.”
Sofia looks around the room, and then eyes the other woman a little warily, as if sizing her up.
“Mama, who is dat?”
I kiss her cheek lightly, tucking hair behind her ear.
“That is mama’s friend Nicole. Also mama’s boss, which means she’s very important, so be nice, ok?”
She looks at me with a thoughtful expression.
“But why we here?”
“Because I need to stay here and do some work tonight, and mommy had to go help a bunch of sick people downstairs too. But you’d rather sleep here with me than at daycare, wouldn’t you?” I tickle her belly lightly, earning a delightful little giggle.
“Yah!”
Smiling, I set the child down on the opposite couch and unpack the food, setting her up with her nuggets and fries to keep her occupied. I glance toward my mentor and see her watching with a slightly amused expression, so I slowly slide the next box of nuggets over toward her. Food will pacify her.
“I hope this is alright...Callie got pulled into the ER and asked if I could take her...I just didn’t want to leave her in daycare all night. She’ll be quiet though, don’t worry. I’ve got some colouring books and things and she’ll keep herself entertained until she falls asleep.”
She pushes some books aside, taking the food I offer, still wearing a slightly bemused expression at my little ramble.
“So this is your daughter. I was starting to wonder if she actually existed,” her tone doesn’t carry any hint of annoyance or anger, so I sit back on the couch beside Sofia and let out a slight sigh of relief.
“This is Sofia, yes,” I smile proudly at the little girl, reaching down to help her with a napkin, “I just never...I mean I didn’t think you’d care about...” I glance over again, “You never sounded like much of a kid person.”
She lets out a gravelly laugh at my admission and opens the takeout box, stretching her legs out along the length of the other couch.
“Well you’re right about that. Unborn fetuses, yes. But once they come out I tend to stay away. That doesn't mean I hate them though.”
“What’s a peetuses?” Sofia interrupts, looking up curiously at both of us.
I pause for a minute, trying to think of a reasonable explanation for a three year old, but before I can speak up Nicole answers her in no uncertain terms.
"First of all, it's fee-tus, F like fingers," she waggles the fingers of one hand, "and a fetus is what we call a baby before it's born. When it's in the mother's belly."
Watching as my daughter processes this information, I'm inwardly surprised at the fetal surgeon's easy response to the child.
"Why the baby in mama's belly?" she scrunches up her nose a little and looks at me, "Mama has a fee-tus?"
"No, sweetie, I don't. Not every mother does. But that's where babies grow. You grew in mommy's belly before you were born."
She considers this information again, small brow furrowed in concentration, and then looks over at the other doctor.
"Is the fee-tus sick? My mama helps sick peoples. I was sick when I was born."
"She does indeed. Your mama is very good at helping sick people -- she does surgery on the fetuses when they're very, very tiny."
"I had sur-gry!”
My mentor glances at me, clearly curious, and I know I’ll have to tell her more about that story later.
“Well, the fetuses are even tinier than you.”
“Like a fwench fwy!” she giggles, holding one up, “Cool.”
Sofia munches the fry and beams happily, and Nicole bursts out laughing. I can't help but grin too as the toddler resumes eating the rest of her meal, seemingly satisfied with that explanation.
"Looks like you might have a budding surgeon on your hands there, Robbins. Maybe fetal surgery will become a family trade."
"Who knows. Last I heard she was planning on being an astronaut," I grin at her, "the kid's got lofty goals."
The other woman just chuckles, pulling the stack of notebooks and case files back over from the other side of the table.
"Well she is your daughter; she'll probably do both. Now come over here, Robbins -- let's get at these files while the child is distracted."
*
Several hours, some ice cream (which made her Herman's biggest fan), and much colouring later, Sofia is fast asleep on the couch, her head pillowed on my lap as I pour over the last of the surgical notes for tomorrow. I stroke my daughter's hair absently as I lean over the table, pulling one of the surgical texts a little closer.
"I feel like I'm not ready for this surgery tomorrow. This is huge."
Herman sits up, rolling her shoulders a little before settling back into the cushions of the couch to relax.
"Robbins, you're ready. And if you're not, it's too late anyway, so stop making me go over the same damn notes."
"I'm just trying to make sure I get it!"
She rolls her eyes slightly, that amused smile tugging at her lips as she folds one arm under her head.
"I chose the right horse. You get it. Now shh, the tumour is tired."
Slumping back into the couch myself, I let out a heavy sigh. I know she's right -- I've got this. I've got her notes and every move of this surgery memorised already. That doesn't mean I'm not scared as hell about it though; we've never worked on a fetus this young before. It's going to be the hardest one yet.
"I know."
We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I let my fingers trail softly through Sofia's hair. My eyes drift down to her face -- such a miniature version of her mother. I can see Mark in her sometimes too, but she is overwhelmingly Callie's daughter.
"Seems like someone else is tired too. You should take her home."
"Hm?" I look up, rubbing a corner of my own exhausted eyes, "you don't mind if she just stays here, do you? She'll be out for the night now."
The other woman looks over pointedly, giving me an exasperated expression.
"Robbins, take your child home so she can sleep in her own bed instead of these second-rate couches."
I look down at Sofia again, smoothing my hand along her side.
"She'd just sleep in bed with me anyway. My home isn't really....home right now."
Nicole shifts up, sitting so she can look over and face me. I can tell she's studying me in that way she has, the way she does before she's about to launch into something, so I glance up to meet her eyes.
"Don't you still have a key to your actual house?"
I frown slightly - not what I was expecting.
"Well, yeah...we haven't really dealt with any of that, but....it's not my house anymore. I don't live there, you know that."
She snorts a little, shaking her head.
"Yes, I’m aware," she responds drily, "you like to bunk up with your resident and his girlfriend. And apparently get into all kinds of pants-optional shenanigans."
Her tone brings a slight scowl and a blush to my face, and I slump into the back of the couch, not bothering to reply.
"Listen," she waves her hand nonchalantly, "from what you've told me, your ex didn't actually kick you out, so technically it's still your house. And besides, you two have been looking awfully friendly lately..."
"We're kind of dating again," I let it slip out without thought, giving a half shrug of my shoulder.
Her interest instantly piqued, Nicole leans in on her elbows, eyebrows raised.
"You're dating your ex-wife? You're dating a woman you married, cheated on, and then who divorced you after an emotional showdown? Oh this keeps getting better and better. Tell me more."
I sigh, knowing she isn't going to give this up easily now. The woman’s become a downright gossipmonger.
"There's not that much to tell. We've gone out a handful of times...we decided we wanted to start over and really make it work, and..." I smile a little, "it's been working so far."
"You sound hopeful, Robbins."
"I am."
She runs a hand through her hair, making a slight face.
"God, you couldn't pay me to date my ex-husband again. But you know, this gives you even more rights to use the key."
"Wouldn't it be weird? Callie comes home and finds what? Me sleeping on the couch? Just making myself at home in the spare bedroom after five months? I said we're dating, we're not moving back in together yet. Not nearly."
"Ha!" she points, "Yet. And no, Robbins -- what's weird is that you're dating your ex-wife to begin with."
She gives me a delighted smile and chuckles.
"I love it. So just go with it, and take that poor child home already. I'm sure she spends enough of her life in this damn hospital."
She studies Sofia's sleeping form for a moment, then looks back up at me, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"Besides, I think she actually likes me. She might even try to climb over here," she points squarely at me, "and I don't do cuddles. With grown-ups or children."
*
I give in, against my better judgement, and half an hour later I'm pulling into the driveway of my former home. I park and just look out at the house, so many memories of the last year flooding my thoughts. I hadn't really allowed myself to miss this place, had tried to suppress the feelings just like I'd tried to suppress the feelings I had for Callie. But the truth was I did miss it.
The realtor had given us some time to look around and talk after having the grand tour, as she wandered off to take a call. But I already know this is the one. It’s perfect.
"Callie," I look over my shoulder, waving her over, "come and look at this backyard."
She crosses the kitchen to my side and I look out through the glass patio doors again, pointing.
"It doesn't have a pool, but it's even bigger than at the blue house, and look! It has this huge deck, and those three huge, old trees -- can't you just picture our girls playing hide and seek around those trees? And reading under them in the summer...oh and catching butterflies!"
"And trying to climb them and breaking their bones," Callie laughs, looking down at me, "our girls, huh? You're still so sure this one is gonna be a girl. You know we can't find out for months yet, right?"
I just smile at her before training my gaze on the backyard again.
"Just a feeling. Sara, maybe. Or Audrey."
I feel Callie's arms slide around my midsection, and she drops a kiss on my shoulder before resting her chin there.
"I can see it. I can see us here.”
By some miracle, the house we wanted had still been for sale when we finally decided we were ready for it again months later, which had seemed like a genuine sign at the time. And it was...it was still home. Shaking off the memory of that day and the slight pang of sadness that strikes me, I climb out of the car and get Sofia unbuckled from her seat in the back, carefully lifting my sleeping girl and cradling her against my shoulder. A comforting smell overwhelms me when we step through the door and I can't help but smile a little to myself at that. I've been over a few times, obviously, since we'd split, so I know that nothing has changed inside -- but it's still nice to see the familiar furnishings and decorations that we chose together.
It's a little weird, it strikes me, as I head down the hallway toward Sofia's bedroom -- a lot of my stuff is still here. Books and music, knickknacks...even photos of my family are mostly still here, sharing space with Callie's things. Because they'd become our things over the years. But we'd never gotten together to officially divide anything up, hadn't even talked about it really...I just came and got things as I needed them and she never complained. In hindsight, I wonder what that says about us.
I lay Sofia down in her bed and gently undress her, getting her changed into pajamas and tucked in under the covers. She wakes only a little, blinking sleepily at me as she snuggles into the soft pillow.
"Mama?"
"Shh, baby, just go back to sleep. We're home," I whisper softly, smoothing my hand along her hip.
She murmurs something incomprehensible and her eyes close again, so I turn off the bedside lamp and quietly ease out of the room, stifling a yawn myself. Glancing down the hall toward our -- Callie's, I remind myself -- bedroom, I decide against going to peek in even though part of me really, really wants to. I cross the hall instead into the guest room and, rubbing my eyes, settle down on top of the neatly made bed. May as well get some sleep.
*
Callie
To say I'm surprised when I see Arizona's car parked in the driveway is an understatement. As I head up into the house, I can see that the light is on in the front hall too - I never bother with it, but Arizona always left it on when she knew I'd be home late.
I lock up behind myself and switch the light off, quietly making my way down the hall. Glancing into Sofia's room, I can see her small figure curled up in bed, her even breathing indicating that she's deep in slumber. It seems strange that Arizona would come back here with her....she'd never done that before. And clearly it didn't seem like anything was wrong.
A lamp is on in the guest room, and that's where I find her. The blonde is stretched out on top of the covers like she didn't intend to stay there, but I can tell by the sound of her breathing that she's lost to sleep just as much as our daughter is. She'd been telling me how busy the last few weeks had been; I know she's got to be just exhausted.
I quietly move across the room, intending to switch the lamp off, but when I look down I notice that she still has her leg on. I bite my lip a little, just watching her chest rise and fall. I know I should just leave the room, let her be...but I also know how sore her leg will be in the morning if she sleeps with the prosthetic all night.
My fingers flex a little by my sides as I contemplate the inappropriateness of trying to slip her pants and her leg off for her, and the chances that she'll wake up while I'm doing so. My mind made up though, I decide the worst that can happen is she wakes up and yells at me. Which is significantly better than letting her have a miserable, painful day tomorrow when she’s got babies to save.
I lean over and carefully unbutton her jeans, slipping them over her slim hips and tugging them from under her until I can slide them down her legs. She stirs a little but doesn't seem to wake, and I swallow a lump in my throat as I divert my eyes from the creamy bare skin of her thighs. Tossing the jeans over the chair by the bed, I quietly manoeuvre her leg off as well and prop it within reach against the nightstand.
It's only when I go to slip the lining off her limb that she blinks awake, sleepy confusion clouding her eyes as she leans up a bit on her elbow.
"Calliope...?"
My name falls from her lips in a murmur, and I glance up, giving her leg a soothing rub.
"Shh," I murmur back, pulling at the blankets until she shifts enough to let me tuck them over her, "go back to sleep. I just got home."
"Mm I should go..."
I reach up and smooth back the hair falling into her face, softly running my fingers along her jaw. Without thinking about it I find myself pressing an intimate kiss to her temple, lingering just a moment as I inhale the soft, familiar smell of her shampoo.
"Just go to sleep," I whisper the words quietly, giving her a small smile, "it's nearly 2 a.m. I just wanted you to be more comfortable."
She lets out a sleepy breath, letting her eyes close again, and now that she's under the covers she rolls to her side and snuggles in a little deeper. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that part of me wants to climb in and curl up behind her...but, I sigh inwardly, I won't. Despite what happened the other week I don't think we're there yet, and I don’t want to rush this.
"Mmk."
Sleepy Arizona is probably one of my favourite things in the world though. I smile and lean over, dropping another light kiss on her head, and she sighs contently.
Yep. Absolute favourite.
Switching the lamp off, I quietly make my way out and down the hall, pausing for a moment to lean my forehead against the door frame to my own room. I want Arizona to live here again. I've been lonely here, more than I’ve been willing to admit, in this house that we chose. It bears so many marks of the other woman...and I wouldn’t change it for anything.
"Nothing too dark -- you know I can't live in the bat cave, Calliope. You agreed that we had to agree on the paint!"
I groan inwardly at the paint samples she's waving in front of me as we stand at the hardware store, perusing colours for the third time in as many weeks. They all look like they belong in a beach house.
"Ok, but nothing pastel either! Seriously what’s wrong with some jewel tones? I can handle lighter colours, but if it belongs in an Easter basket it is not going on the walls of our home."
She wrinkles her nose a little, looking at her samples again before putting a few back.
"Okay...what about these? They're vibrant, but still light enough."
I grab the little paint cards and contemplate them carefully -- shades of blue and green and purple that are somewhat middle of the road. The green for the living room is actually a fairly rich, emerald colour, which I know is a concession she's willingly made...I saw the much, much lighter shade she picked last week.
"I like these...if I can choose some edgy artwork to go with it. Something abstract. To make it badass."
I look at her as one blonde eyebrow raises questioningly, and I fix her with my best no-nonsense stare. She draws out our showdown for a long minute, then smiles and leans in to kiss my cheek.
"Deal."
We’d had some really happy times then. Things weren’t perfect between us, and we were still working on our relationship when we moved into the house, but...we’d had some truly happy moments. Smiling a little at the purple-grey wall of the bedroom -- which I've actually come to love -- I realize that even if we're not sleeping together...knowing she's just down the hall is a comfort all on its own.
Maybe we can talk about that in the morning. Maybe...I mean, it can’t hurt to ask, right?