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Arizona patted the empty cushion next to her and flashed Callie a big smile. A suspiciously big smile. The sort that would have been normal four months ago but now was as rare as…joy.
When did Callie get so maudlin?
“Come on,” Arizona urged, “I want to hear this big presentation.”
Arizona absolutely did not want to hear Callie’s big presentation. Only—Callie thought back over the last week and a half. Her wife had seemed a little more active lately. Like the depressing cloud she’d been living in since the accident had lifted just a little since she’d gone to the hospital to help Bailey. She wasn’t sunshine and rainbows—at least not around Callie—but she was better.
“Really?”
Arizona nodded, sticking her tongue out and sort of biting it in that adorable way she always did when she was being sincere. “Really.”
Callie wasn’t sure what was scarier. Delivering this nerve graft pitch to the most famous neurosurgeon on the West Coast or delivering it to the wife who hadn’t genuinely smiled at her in what felt like eons.
‘Don’t screw this up,’ head-Callie warned her. Like she needed that kind of pressure. Stupid head.
She took up residence on the empty cushion and flipped her computer open, settling it on her knees and positioning it so that if she leaned in close to Arizona they could both see it.
“There’s PowerPoint,” Arizona asked her in surprise.
Callie was a little hurt her wife would expect anything less from her. Didn’t she know Callie?
“Because I was seriously expecting some sort of professionally produced video. Possibly with an orchestral score.”
“I did that once and it was for a travel guide to Spain for your parents.” The Colonel kind of intimidated her and he’d asked for help for the trip and maybe just maybe she went overboard to impress in the hopes he’d never ever ever again mention her “liaison with the sperm donor.”
Arizona playfully nudged her shoulder. “Come on PowerPoint girl. Wow me.”
Callie rushed through her pitch. Probably too fast. Definitely too fast. She kept glancing over at Arizona and seeing that thoughtful expression on her face she always got when intrigued by medical mystery. It was distracting.
Arizona reached out and grabbed her wildly gesticulating hand. The pads of her fingers were warm and foreign on Callie’s wrist. She wondered if Arizona could feel her pulse. It had to be racing. It definitely positively had to be racing. She could probably even see the vein in her neck throbbing.
She swallowed to cover it up. But it didn’t work because that thumb that used to do crazy things to her insides was rubbing a soothing pattern on the inside of Callie’s wrist.
“Okay,” Arizona said softly, “take a breath.” She joined Callie, sucking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “Good. Now. Slowly explain it again.”
“I went too fast?” It came out like a squeak.
Arizona’s lips curved upwards. Damn it. Why did she have to be sitting so close and smelling like her wife and looking like her wife and freakin’ touching her? Didn’t she know that Callie hadn’t had intimate contact with anything but a showerhead in nearly four months? Did she know that Callie was crazy about her and all this happiness and liberal touching was setting Callie up for what would eventually be a massive fall?
“Not too fast.” Oh, those perfect pink lips were moving—talking. “But I’m your wife and kind of used to it. Instead pretend I’m Derek.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“With significantly blonder and better hair, two working hands and only one foot.”
Callie stopped breathing. She had to when Arizona mentioned the leg. Because leg mentions turned into tears and anger at some point. Every time. Always. And when it was said flippantly like that? Well, then that meant the anger would wash over them all the faster.
But Arizona just squeezed her wrist again and nodded at her to proceed.
So she did. Another deep breath first. “Okay, Derek, first I’d like to tell you that your hair has never looked better.” Arizona gave her a girlish little flip of the hair. It emboldened Callie. “And your boobs are especially perky today.”
“Thanks,” Arizona said in a startlingly deep voice, “Meredith’s been on me to work out the pecs.”
Callie laughed.
“So, Doctor Torres. Tell me about this groundbreaking surgery that’s had you up at three in the morning consulting with doctors in Switzerland.”
Oops. She heard those calls? Callie had thought she’d been quiet. She’d tried to be quiet. She’d even thought about going to Mark’s to handle the calls but that wouldn’t have worked. That was Mark’s place and he was gone and the sooner she stopped using his empty home as a crutch the better.
“Well, Dr. Shepherd,” she replied her voice equally deep (something that earned a raised eyebrow from her wife), “we’re only going to use one branch.” She went into her spiel again. A little slower.
Okay. A lot slower.
Arizona was distracting her again. She’d flipped Callie’s arm over and was idly running her thumb up and down Callie’s forearm, tracing the path of the nerves they were discussing and really only barely listening. Which was good because Callie was using a lot of “ums” instead of words.
“So. This nerve?” Arizona’s voice was back to normal. Not normal of late but normal normal. Soft and intimate and just for Callie.
“Yeah,” she croaked.
Arizona’s fingertips were like hot coals as they trailed down her arm. Her brow furrowed—just a tiny bit—as she explored Callie’s fingers. Callie closed her eyes and simply reveled in the sensation. Arizona used to always play with Callie’s hands in bed. They’d often slept spooning and Arizona would take the hand around her waist and hold it up to her face for closer inspection. She’d gently kiss each fingertip and tug on each finger before tucking Callie’s hand between her breasts and saying good night. Callie would then curl in even closer and drop a kiss on Arizona’s ear and whisper, “Sleep tight.” And then Arizona would maybe laugh and sometimes she’d go straight to sleep and other times she’d guide that hand elsewhere and ever once in a while she’d twist in Callie’s embrace and kiss her slowly and languidly and it’d be perfect.
She was perfect.
God she missed her wife.
“Callie?” She opened her eyes. Arizona was somehow closer. Oblivious to her affect on Callie. “Show me?” Her voice was high. Young. Like an eager intern. And her arm was held out to Callie. Not thrust in Callie’s face, but just resting on Callie’s thigh. Scorching her.
“Right.” She swallowed but there was nothing in her mouth but dryness. She put the open laptop on the floor and settled Arizona’s outstretched arm in her lap. Her hand started up at Arizona’s shoulder. She forbid it to go further in. Near her chest. Or her face. The arm was much safer.
“So it starts here,” and her thumb pressed into the soft shirt Arizona was wearing and moved slowly down. She paused at the elbow. There was just skin below that. “And the first incision would be here.” She lightly marked it with her thumbnail.
Arizona scooted closer. Probably to just see better.
“To harvest.”
“Exactly.” Then her thumb was grazing the skin of Arizona’s arm and brushing over the finest of blond hairs. She hazarded a glance up. It was a mistake. Arizona’s eyes were dark. Her lips were moist. Her mouth was hung open just the tiniest bit. Her tongue darted out to and ran across that narrow top lip.
Breathe through your nose Callie. That’ll help.
That didn’t help at all.
“The second incision will be here.” She used the tip of her middle finger. Like if she had less contact it would help.
Arizona was so close now her leg brushed up against Callie’s. The one leg she never ever let Callie touch. Or ever look at really. She ducked down to get a closer look at the part of her arm Callie had “marked.” Then she looked up through a curtain of golden hair.
And smiled.
And not just a polite smile.
A real. Honest to God. Arizona smile.
“You’re gonna knock his socks off.”
Callie couldn’t quite smile back. She still wasn’t sure it wasn’t all a dream. Some perfect dream where Arizona didn’t blame her and hate her. Where it was really the wife she’d lost sitting there.
And if it was a dream than she could kiss her.
She leaned down. She saw hesitation. The surprise. Arizona’s eyes widened and they focused very purposely on Callie’s mouth but she didn’t pull back. She stayed perfectly still.
So it had to be a dream.
But to be safe Callie paused. Someone had had wine. Someone’s breath was hot. How did Arizona have such tiny pores? And when did she pluck her eyebrows? Callie hadn’t seen her do anything more than wash her hair in months.
Her eyes fell closed as she crossed that last little bit of space. If it was a dream it would feel perfect. If it wasn’t she wouldn’t have to risk seeing Arizona flinch or pull away or watch her face turn stony.
Then there were just lips on her lips. They didn’t mould to hers like they used to. No one’s tongue slipped into anyone’s mouth. Neither of them inhaled sharply through the nose or pushed or pulled. Just lips pressed against lips. An action that was totally normal and completely new.
And Callie kept her eyes closed. It was enough just to savor that gentlest of pressures. It was sweet. Delicate. As perfect as the wife she missed.
With her eyes closed and her whole body frozen in place she had no idea who pulled away. But Arizona’s nose nuzzled her own.
“I guess I should get to bed,” she said. Callie could feel her lips move against the corner of her mouth.
God, she wanted to cry.
“Big day,” Callie managed. She still couldn’t open her eyes. Couldn’t risk waking up.
But a hand cupped her cheek and then she had to. Arizona was closer than she’d ever been in her life and smiling sadly. As much as it hurt to see Arizona look so bittersweet her proximity made everything better.
“Tomorrow,” Arizona intoned.
“Tomorrow.”