For the love of softball. ( Calzonia story)

Chapter 23

Before they know it, Opening Ceremonies have taken place and now Team USA is suited up for their first softball game of the 2012 Olympics. Nerves have reappeared and now Arizona stares at herself in the mirror of their tiny Olympic Village apartment. She tries not to think about it, about the idea that the team is setting their hopes on her pitching ability. The fact that she hasn't pitched in a competition like this since high school isn't common knowledge, and only now does the blonde realize how much of rookie she really is. Raw talent, speed, velocity, precision. She has those things, but experience? Not so much. A crippling shoulder injury took her out of the game during her first semester in college, and since then it's been all about medicine. Until... it wasn't about medicine anymore.

The pitcher is on her fifth round of 'You can do this, Robbins. No bailing. You can do this.' when a very disgruntled Korean starts pounding on the bathroom door. "There are other people who need the bathroom, Dimples!" Arizona jumps in surprise and quickly finishes up before opening the door and slipping past her roommate. Yang gives the blonde a hard look, mumbling something under her breath before slamming the door behind her. The blonde is not exactly sure how Cristina Yang is able to turn a nickname like 'Dimples' into something that sounds insulting, but she does.

Back in her bedroom, Arizona sits awkwardly on her bed, arms folded in her lap, and waits. There is still about a half hour until the team has to head over to the softball complex, so there is nothing to do to work out the butterflies flapping around in her stomach. A few minutes pass, a knee bouncing in place as the blonde takes practiced breaths, and then she spies a wrinkle in her sheets. Being a daughter of a Marine Colonel, that just won't do. Without a second thought, Robbins stands and strips her bed, remaking it all over from the ground up.

Teddy steps back into their room to find the blonde meticulously measuring the fold, her hands moving with military precision she recognizes from a mile away. "You're not nervous, are you?" The first baseman asks, plopping down in her own made bed.

"Shut it." Arizona growls, taking a step back and surveying her work. Every centimeter is smooth, sheets taunt enough for a quarter to bounce. And yet there is still too much time left to wait so the blonde steps in front of their small mirror and starts to braid her hair.

Minutes later there is a knock on their front door, Grey opening it to find a smiling Latina. Callie merely gets a smirk from her teammate before Meredith retreats back to her and Yang's room, letting the catcher head to opposite room. Without making a sound, she leans against the door jam, her eyes locked onto the vision of Arizona Robbins weaving her golden locks into an intricate design.

Teddy watches her captain pine over her roommate and smiles, then clears her throat. A blush races across tanned cheeks as Callie realizes for the first time Arizona isn't the only one in the room. Blue eyes whip around and find Torres, dimples popping instantly before forcing a more neutral look on her face for the sake of Teddy.

"Right... You guys are sooo subtle." Altman teases with an eye roll. Pushing off her bed and grabbing their uniform visor, the first baseman heads for the living room. "I'll be out here doing... something." She murmurs, slipping past Callie while giving her a knowing smirk.

Torres discreetly shuts the door, locking both her and Arizona in a room by themselves. "Hey." Callie breathes.

"Hi." Arizona replies, dimples shining bright. She turns back to the mirror to quickly finishes up her braiding while Callie stalks up behind the blonde, watching nimble fingers work before letting her eyes trail down the backside of the pitcher. There is something... magical... about softball pants. The way they bring to life every delicious curve of a woman's body while also emphasizing the fact that the person wearing them is all business. The bright red jersey tucked perfectly into white pants makes the Latina drool, and her hands ache to touch the creature in front of her.

Just as Robbins is securing her creation with a barrette, a thin braid running across her forehead before tapering off by her ear, Callie's hands find home on the blonde's waist. Blue lock with chocolate in the mirror in front of them and bodies hum with excitement. Since their date they haven't had much time alone. There was always someone there, a teammate or a coach, someone from the press, which only added to anxiety Arizona has about their hidden romantic relationship. Yet she just can't stay away from the woman, it's like there is this magnetic pull towards Callie Torres that Arizona is unable to resist.

Dark eyes send a wink to the mirror before Callie dips her head and nuzzles the blonde's neck, inhaling that vanilla-coconuty smell that she has become addicted to. Plump lips graze at fair skin, playing over muscle, tendons and bones beneath before laying a soft kiss at that magic spot just behind Robbins ear.

"You ready?" Callie purrs, trailing kisses down the curve of Arizona's ear before nipping at the fleshy lobe below.

The pitcher turns in their embrace, looking up into warm eyes and her hands moving up to the tanned, naked flesh of Callie's neck, raven hair pulled up into an all-business ponytail. Pushing up on her toes, lips connect with lips, the two sharing a kiss both have been craving since their last kiss while parting after their date.

"Now I am." Arizona answers when they part. The catcher just smiles and takes advantage of their privacy by leaning back for another kiss. Callie starts to slowly back up, pulling the woman in her arms with her as their kiss deepens. Knees buckle as Torres finds the edge of Arizona's bed, both women falling back onto the mattress with a giggle.

Pushing up out of their embrace and supporting herself over the Latina, Arizona growls "Do you know how long it took me to make this bed?" Callie just smiles and rolls her eyes before pulling the blonde back down on top of her. Tanned hands want to rip the USA jersey right off of the pitcher's body but instead she settles on groping the woman's chest over their shirt. A moan falls from pink lips at the contact, a firm squeeze from her captain running straight to the blonde's center, lighting her on fire.

"We should stop..." Arizona mumbles as their tongues, teeth and lips clash against one another's.

"You're right." Torres agrees, one hand firmly squeezing the blonde's tight ass while the other snakes around and cups a restrained breast.

"I'm serious." The pitcher gasps, but makes no move to disentangle themselves. She's drunk on the feeling the woman below her is giving her. Plump lips being the best thing she's ever tasted, even that amazing pastry they shared on their date doesn't compare to how the Latina tastes against her lips. ...On her tongue.

"Me too." The catcher states, then a jolt of pleasure rips through her when a toned thigh pushes against her center.

"You're not stopping." Arizona hisses, the Latina biting the blondes bottom lip.

"Neither are you." Callie rebuttals when she surrenders the pitcher lips. Robbins pulls away just enough to stare down at the woman below her, chocolate brown eyes now tainted black with hunger and Callie is positive that the blue eyes above her are darker than the night skies.

"We really do need to get going." The blonde whispers, hating the words as she is saying them and silently praying that a freak lightening storm will rear its ugly head right now so their impending game will be delayed.

But the bright sun light streams in through the bedroom window, making caramel skin glow. "I know..." Callie groans, then arches up and takes bruised lips with hers again. Soft, sweet, and slow, parting too soon but with a promise of more to come later. When eyes open again, the Latina smiles and whispers "Let's go kick some Polish ass."

Callie Torres, Teddy Altman and Coach Richard Webber come striding back from home plate and rejoin their team after wishing the Polish players good luck pre-game. A quick vote prior the routine get together between the two teams and the head umpire had placed the first baseman as their new co-captain. Erica Hahn's anger, something that was at a steady simmer for days, now starts to bubble again. Arizona can sense the tension, everyone can, but no one says anything because now is not the time for that kind of drama. Team USA is about to take the field for the first game of the race for Gold in Women's softball. There is no time for selfishness like that.

"Alright ladies." Webber booms, a big smile on his face as he looks over his anxious players, every woman wearing identical uniforms and looking a million bucks. "It's time. This is what we've worked for. It's right now. It's time to show America who the Golden Girls really are. Show them you ladies are the best of the best, the cream of the crop. Show the world that you deserve to have those letters on your chest. 'USA' isn't given to just anyone, you have to work for it. You have to live it. ...Now is your time, ladies. Show them what you got." Goosebumps prickle up over his players and coaches skin as smiles turn up lips. "Ready?" He asks, getting a chorus of 'Yeah's!' from his team. "Alright then... Torres, send it off."

The Latina holds a hand out in front of her which is quickly covered by thirteen other hands of her teammates. "Ok ladies, let's take care of business. On me. USA!"

"All the way!" The team yells.

"Batter!" The umpire calls, pulling USA to the Polish team out on the field. They had pulled the visitor card, so USA is up to bat first.

"Start us off, Robbins." Derek Shepard exclaims as the blonde grabs her helmet and bat, those butterflies in her stomach now coming on tenfold. Arizona smacks the top of her helmet to get it down tight, and straps and unstraps her batting glove three times. One practice swing. Two practice swings. Three practice swings. Going through her routine. Every player has one, whether it's licking their fingertips, touching the brim of their hat, or drinking molten hot chocolate even in the height of summer, every player has their own superstitions. And now is definitely not the time to piss off the softball gods.

With a peek over her shoulder, Robbins catches Shepard's sign to take a pitch, his strategy to try and get a feel for the umpire's strike zone. With that added signal to flip sides, Arizona steps over to the right batter's box and, with a deep, calming breath, gets set.

Callie watches the blonde from the dugout and finds herself more nervous than she's ever been. "Come on, Battleship. Come on. One time." She mutters to herself. The Polish pitcher winds up and let's one fly, sailing at break neck speed and smacking loudly in her catcher's mitt.

"Strike!" The umpire calls, eliciting a roar from the Polish team and their fans. Arizona steps out of the box and looks to her coach, Shepard nodding and giving the 'slap' signal. The blonde touches the brim of her helmet, letting Derek know she saw the sign, and then quickly scans the infield for the optimal placement. There is a nice, juicy hole between third and shortstop, and Robbins knows she's found her target.

Back in the batter's box, Arizona sets up and awaits the next pitch. The ball comes flying towards her but at the last second it peels off the down and out corner, the umpire signaling a ball. The roar of the crowd and from her team is almost deafening, and the stadium isn't even half full. Blue eyes quickly scan the crowd as she steps out and takes a practice swing, inevitably finding those deep brown ones coming from Team USA's dugout. Callie is standing right at the edge, strong hands wrapped in her batting gloves and the Latina's signature bat propped on her shoulder. Torres sends her pitcher a wink, one that makes a dimpled smile appear from under the layers and layers of nerves Arizona is feeling.

Stepping back up, Arizona feels her body calm, that sense of peace that descends upon her just like when she grasps the cool steel of a scalpel. Her mind clears and senses kick into gear. The Polish pitcher accepts the sign and winds up, pushing off the rubber and sending the ball flying towards home. Robbins brings her bat around, her legs moving with precision as she runs the length of the batter's box, metal connecting with leather a split second before the blonde is racing down the first base line.

The ball bounces right into that fat empty spot she planned, and the Polish infield rushes to make a play. Team USA is yelling from the dugout but Arizona doesn't hear them, she doesn't feel her legs moving or her arms pumping. All she knows is she needs to reach the bag before the ball does.

"Go baby, go!" Callie yells as soon as she watches Arizona take off. "Go!" Only a couple seconds after she made contact, Robbins flies past the bag, her foot touching a full two strides ahead of the tag.

"Safe!" The first base ump calls, and the entire US bench erupts, along with all their fans. The rush of making her team's first play makes the blonde feel invincible, and she doesn't doubt that the smile on her face is the largest one she's had in months and months.

"Give me some of that, Blondie!" Sloan exclaims, Arizona giving her first base coach a strong high five. "Nice work. That's how you get it going, girl." There are no words, so all Arizona does is smile and raise a clenched fist to her teammates at the bench, signaling the rise of USA.

Addison steps up to the plate after Arizona led off, sending a hard liner right at the third baseman but the Polish player isn't able to handle the heat to get off a play at second. Instead, she fires it to first just in time to get the redhead out. But USA is ok with that, because it advanced their runner. Erica steps up next, steeling her eyes to the gaping hole just to the right of the center fielder. The power hitter rarely gets a signal other than swing away, and this time is no different. Derek tells the blonde to take her pick, and Hahn steps up. She plays with the pitcher, the USA catcher an expert with getting into the heads of her competition.

Arizona gets up on her toes, her muscles coiled like a spring as she waits to unleash her speed. As soon as the ball leaves the pitcher's hand, the blonde takes a three stride lead off, a crack of the bat making her stop and watch. The neon ball sails high into the air, flying between center and right field.

"HOLD!" Derek yells needlessly at his base runner as Arizona watches the ball float. The Polish outfielders run for the ball, the blonde on second returning to the bag as she watches the play unfold. Callie holds her breath in the on-deck circle, knowing that Hahn just flied out but wondering if Arizona is going to test their opponents' arms.

As soon the right fielder catches the ball, signaling the second out for Team USA, Arizona jumps off the bag and races to third. The Polish player fires the ball to third, bypassing her cut-off man. The third baseman steels herself for a play for the bag, quickly judging the speed of the ball with the speed of the runner barreling towards her. Arizona doesn't see the ball, all she sees is the bag. Derek signals her down, knowing it's going to be a photo finish, and the blonde falls into a picture perfect slide. The third baseman lays down a strong tag, one that catches Arizona in the stomach but it's too late.

"Safe!" The third base ump calls, and the US bench explodes again. Time is called for Arizona to get up, and the blonde is all smiles. Her teammates are cheering and the crowd is yelling, the Polish team saying who knows what in their native tongue as they try to settle down.

Derek steps out of the coach's box and gives his player a high five. "Nice wheels, Robbins." He says with a smile, then looks down at the brownish red stain of the blonde's white uniform pants and adds "Those didn't last long, did they?"

Adrenaline is flowing through her system and she feels like nothing can catch her. Looking to her coach, Arizona asks "If it gets past, can I go?"

Shepard's brow arches in amusement and the man crosses his arms over his chest. "Think you can make it?"

"Hell yeah." The blonde breathes out, dimpled smile shining bright. The umpire calls the game back and Callie steps up into the batter's box. Blue eyes take the few seconds she has to scan up and down the backside of her captain, those white softball pants doing glorious things that shouldn't be legal. But then the home plate ump signals for the pitcher to commence play and Arizona is back into business mode.

Callie's vision tunnels to where it's only her and the pitcher, the ball and her bat. One pitch, she takes it. Second pitch, ball. Third pitch, outside but the umpire calls it. The Latina tucks that little tidbit away to use later, and gets set for her fourth pitch. A drop that the captain chases, getting a piece of it and fouling it off. Arizona was off the bag the second she heard that telltale ping, but sees the ball go flying up and back into the safety net. The blonde is just itching to go, to get her team moving, and stealing their first run would be just the thing to set the tone for their Games.

The Polish pitcher looks flustered and takes a second to compose herself, turning away from the intimidating batter she is now facing and looks toward the runner at third. The blonde just smiles, Arizona silently daring her to give her an opening. Just one second, one mistake, and that's all Robbins needs to make her move.

The pitcher steps back up to the rubber and Callie takes one last practice swing, then steps back in. She winds up, and the pitcher sends a curve ball to her catcher. But the release is off and the pitch tips too soon, nearly skimming the Latina at her knees. The Polish catcher isn't able to contain the wild pitch in time and it goes bouncing to the back stop. That is Arizona's chance, and the blonde unleashes all her speed. Callie steps out of the way, watching the frantic catcher and pitcher try to get set for the steal but Arizona is right on them.

"Down!" Torres yells to Arizona, knowing it's going to be a close call. Robbins doesn't second guess her captain and falls into another slide, the tag nowhere close.

"Safe!" The home plate umpire calls, and the USA bench explodes, the stadium going crazy as the first run of the Olympics is scored.

Callie pulls the blonde up by a hand, both sharing a smile and a look. "Way to move, Battleship."

"Thanks Boss." Arizona replies with a wink, and as she walks past her catcher Torres makes use of the long time tradition of ass smacking to plant a firm love tap on the blonde's butt. With a triumphant smile, Callie steps back into the batter's box and stares down the now flustered Polish team knowing that this game is already theirs.

"Batter up!" The home plate umpire calls, signaling that the next pitch is Arizona's last warm up one. Planting her foot, she sends a rocket right into the sweet spot of Torres's glove, the delicious sting radiating through the Latina's hand telling her it was a good one. In an instant, Callie is out of her squat and firing the ball to Erica at third who then sends it around the horn.

Once Teddy lays down the mock tag at first, the entire infield convenes at the pitcher's circle, Altman placing the ball in the blonde's mitt. "Let's do this." Teddy says, eager to get the game underway.

"How about another corny joke?" Callie suggests, seeing the slight terror and nerves floating in her pitchers blue eyes. The captain gets a round of skeptical looks, but Torres says "What? Come on! Just something to loosen us up. ...Come on, Robbins, I bet you have another one don't you?"

Arizona smiles and shakes her head, knowing exactly what her catcher is doing. "Fine. Um... What do you call a nun in a wheelchair?" A beat passes, five sets of eyes looking on and waiting for the punch line. "...A Virgin Mobile." Sighs of exasperation float around their small huddle, and Erica Hahn rolls her eyes. With a warning from an umpire, they quickly share a round of high fives and everyone heads back to their position.

Before crossing the chalk line, Callie makes eye contact with Robbins and says "You got this, Arizona. No sweat." The blonde forces a chuckle out and watches as her catcher jogs back behind the plate. Suddenly everything comes crashing down on her shoulders, her mind suddenly absorbing everything around her. The air is vibrating from the fans, the air heavy with expectations and the distance between rubber and plate seems about five times further than normal.

Callie gets set in her squat and finds Mark Sloan just at the corner of USA's dugout. Normally she wouldn't look to him for signs, instead relying on her own instincts, but with the weight of an entire nation on her back, having someone there to back up her decisions helps. Mark throws the sign for an inside heater, wanting to face the first batter head on with fire, which is what the Latina would have done as well. She relays the sign to the blonde at the mound, but receives no nod. Callie shows the sign again, but still Arizona doesn't acknowledge it. The captain reads her pitcher, the tension in Robbins' shoulders, the death grip she has on the ball at her side, the way pink lips are pressed into a firm line. The Latina has seen pitchers crack under the pressure before, and right now her pitcher is showing the signs.

Then out of nowhere, Arizona shakes her head, pulling her back into reality. Callie watches as the blonde's chest rises and falls with a deep breath, and she shows the sign again. This time the pitcher accepts and gets set on the mound.

With another calming breath, the blonde winds up and sends a scorcher blazing right past the wide eyed batter, leather smacking leather resulting in a loud "STRIKE" to echo throughout the stadium. The first strike is just want Arizona needed to get her head in the game. Now, she's set. She and Callie, and their team, are on their way.

"She's out!" The outfield up yells, calling the third out after Erica fields a dribbler and tags her base for an easy out. With that, Team USA jogs off the field as they conclude the fourth inning. The red, white and blue are up 5 to 0, and everyone is feeling good. Arizona has been nearly untouchable all day, with only three hits and giving up no runs. The Haus behind the plate has been as intimidating as ever, giving every batter a run for their money and even showing a cocky little base runner a thing or two when she attempted to steal second out from under the Latina's nose. As soon as her dark eyes saw the Polish runner make a move, Torres was out of her squat and firing the ball right at second. Naomi barely had time to get to the bag in time, but she did and the shortstop laid down the perfect tag. The runner never had a chance.

As far as Callie and Arizona go, they are like one in the same. Whatever was lost during their little scuffle, the fight and the drug thing, they made up for in spades. The chemistry between them is electric and everyone on the field, and off, can feel it. The smile on Mark Sloan's face is something akin to a kid in a candy shop, and he can already see that Gold around their necks.

"Hey Blondie!" Sloan calls as the team comes jogging back to their bench, Teddy being up to bat first. Arizona hangs back a second, letting the rest of the woman past before approaching her coach. The man stares down at the blonde, an unreadable look on his face. Robbins squirms a little bit under the stare, but she knows that she's been on fire and knows there is no reason she will be chewed out. Still... authority issues and all...

Finally, his hard stare breaks and a smile crosses his chapped lips. "Looking good, Robbins. Must be all that great coaching." He states.

"Um... thanks?" Arizona chances, making Mark bark out a shout of laughter before clapping her roughly on the shoulder.

She joins the rest of her team in the dugout and starts looking for her jacket so she can keep her arm warm. But she can't find it. Callie watches as her pitcher starts to tear apart the dugout and approaches her. "What you looking for, Battleship?" The Latina asks.

"My jacket. It was right here but..." Arizona whispers a silent curse, and swears she can feel the muscles of her arm stiffen each second it's not being kept warm.

Callie grabs hers from her bag and offers it to the blonde. "Here, use mine." She says, a big smile on her face.

"You sure?" Arizona asks, but doesn't really wait for an answer. Her need to keep her arm warm outweighs the need to be polite in this moment. Dark eyes shine as she watches Arizona wear her clothes, a sense of familiarity filling her chest. Sure, all their jackets are identical, but the idea of Arizona wearing her jacket makes it... amazing.

"You alright, Boss?" The pitcher asks, pulling Callie out of her daydreaming. "You're staring. Something wrong?" Arizona whispers, very conscious of their teammates well within earshot, as well as the thousands of spectators lining the stadium benches with their cameras poised, all ready to snap a picture of something juicy.

"No, nothing. Just... You're awesome." The Latina says, loving how she can get a bright blush to rip across the blonde's face with the drop of a simple sentence.

Blue and brown are locked, each sharing a goofy smile with the other until Webber yells "Robbins!" Arizona jumps, breaking their stare and turning to face her coach. "Come on, you're up!"

"Batter!" The home umpire calls.

"Shit." Arizona growls, tearing off Callie's jacket and giving it to her catcher as she quickly grabs her batting gloves and helmet, stumbling out of the dugout and running to home plate. Torres just chuckles at how unbelieveably adorable the blonde is. How can someone be a hardcore pitcher, facing down batters with death glares one minute, and then be so clumsy and cute the next? It's not right, but it's oh so perfect.

The roar and riot of the first game coming to a close is still in the air, the high of Team USA is rippling across the stadium and everyone is smiling. Coming in and shutting down the Polish team was something the coaches hoped for. Sure, they're not the most talented team in the pool, but they are a formidable opponent and now all four coaches hope that this big win will be just what their team needs to hit their strides. Sloan ended up pulling Robbins in the fifth inning just so the blonde will have some juice left in case Arizona is needed as a relief in their second game, and Charlotte King went in. There were a few close calls, but with Callie Torres behind the plate, no runner had a shot at taking home.

Now the ladies are all packed up and relaxing for a few hours before their next game. Some have gone to get some treatments, others going to get some food, and some just stay at the stadium to take in the next game. A wrapped up Callie Torres comes limping out of the training room, knees iced and wrapped, and her first thought is to find a certain blonde haired pitcher to spend the time with.

She finds her, along with Teddy and Addison, on the top bleacher of the far most section of seating. All three are wrapped up in their identical USA jackets, chatting and laughing about something someone said. The sound of Arizona's giggle makes Callie smile and her heart flutter. Right now, more than anything, she wishes they could find a private room and continue what they started this morning. Maybe their little make out session was a good omen, maybe that's what they needed to get in sync again. At least, Callie hopes that's what it was, because that would mean they'd have to do that every morning. ...Before every game. And Callie Torres is perfectly alright with that.

"Ladies..." The Latina drawls, announcing her appearance. "What you all up to?" She asks, then goes through the trouble of stepping around the three of them to take the empty seat next to Arizona instead of the empty spot closest to the stairs.

"Oh, nothing." Arizona replies, giving her catcher a dimpled smile. "Just sitting here on the corner of awesome and bombdiggity."

Chuckling, Torres says "You're flying pretty high, aren't you Battleship?"

"What can I say? ...I rocked." The blonde states matter of factly, in a tone that no one can argue with. Addison and Teddy just roll their eyes at each other, both knowing now that Callie is here there is no hope of getting either of their attention. Whenever Callie and Arizona are around each other its like nothing else in the world exists around them.

"Food?" Addison asks the first baseman right beside her.

"Definitely." Teddy replies, and the two of them stand and head to the cafeteria, not saying a word to the flirting teenagers left behind. It doesn't take long for Arizona and Callie to realize that their friends left, and they decide to follow... at their own pace, of course. The two meander their way back to Olympic Village and soon find the rest of their team. Almost everyone has settled down at a string of tables, trays of partially eaten food in front of them.

Erica Hahn looks up just in time to see Callie and Arizona enter the area together, both smiling at each other and the Latina letting out a big belly laugh at something Robbins said. The hairs on the back of Hahn's next stand on end, and her fists make their way into a ball. She is now over the idea of her and Torres, but seeing Callie with someone else doesn't help matters. Even though the Latina has told her time and time again that there is nothing going on with Robbins, Erica isn't blind. Anyone can see the way they act around one another, how those beautiful brown eyes light up as soon as Arizona walks by, or even if someone just mentions the NewGirl's name.

When Callie takes a seat, and Arizona heads over to the food line, Erica sees her chance. Feigning that she needs a refill on her drink, Hahn follows Robbins away from their team and towards a more secluded spot. Just as Arizona is grabbing a tray, Erica grabs her by the sleeve of her jacket and pulls her around a corner, out of the line of sight of everyone else.

"What the hell?" Arizona spits, yanking her sleeve from the taller woman's grasp. "Who ate your bowl of sunshine this morning, Thundercloud?"

"Let's just get this out of the way, ok? I know." Erica states coolly.

"Know what?" Robbins asks, completely lost as to what her teammate is going on about. Though... there's really only one topic that Erica ever talks to her about, and that's Callie.

"That you and Callie are bumping uglies." The ex-captain sneers.

Blue eyes roll in their socket and Arizona takes on a defensive stance, crossing her arms and jutting out a hip. "You're wrong. We're not." And it's true, up to this point. They haven't gone past first base. Well... this morning they were kind of rounding second but still... no homeruns have happened yet.

"Right, because the last time Callie gushed about a stupid date that didn't end in getting laid was... oh, never." Hahn snaps.

This catches Arizona's attention, and though she tries to fight it, a dimpled smile pulls up at her lips. "She gushed?" The blonde asks, going into teenager mode.

"Listen here, NewGirl." Hahn growls, her voice dropping about ten octaves which sends a shiver down the pitchers spine. "There is a reason we have the rule, and I suggest you and Callie end whatever this is before it turns ugly, do you hear me?"

"Uhhh..." Arizona's brow furrows in confusion, her eyes staring off into space as she thinks. "Ok, so... this rule, the one about not inter-team dating, right?" Erica nods stiffly. "Right, this is the same rule you were all for breaking when you made a move on Calliope, is that right? I believe there is something about rocks and glass houses... How does that go?" Now it's Erica's turn to be on the defensive, Hahn not expecting the smaller woman to actually fight her about this. Because... no one fights Hahn about anything, no one. They are all too afraid.

"That's completely-" Erica starts but Arizona cuts her off.

"No, it's completely the same." Robbins says, meeting steel blue eyes with her own hardened glare. "How about you just... leave me alone? How about that? I'm doing my job, I'm pitching. Pretty well, if you were paying attention to the game. So... just leave me alone. I'll do my job, which is being all awesome and amazing. And I'll let you do yours, which is being all evil and grumpy. Sound good?" Arizona makes a move to leave but Erica steps in front of her, cutting off the pitcher exit route.

"This team was fine before you showed up here, Robbins." Hahn snarls. "I suggest you keep your nose clean and do what is expected of you."

"Which is what? Doing drugs and covering it up? Being an absolute bitch to everyone else? Or just taking advantage of my teammates just to bolster my own massive ego? ...No, wait, that's what's expected of you." Arizona snaps back, then shoulder checks the larger blonde and storms off.

Callie watches as her pitcher comes tearing ass around the corner, blue eyes dark with fury, barreling past the rest of the team and heading off in the direction of the fields. Both Teddy and Addison, as well as a handful of other players all witness it, and then slowly turn to look at Callie, silently seeking an explanation. All Torres can do is shrug, not knowing what the hell just happened in the last five minutes to piss Arizona off. But then those dark eyes find a second blonde turning the same corner, and fire erupts within the Latina's body as Erica retakes her seat at the table. And suddenly a bad feeling fills Callie Torres's body, because Erica Hahn never brings anything but pain and drama.

"Alright ladies! One out, plays at three!" Arizona shouts, alerting the rest of the field of their predicament. Two innings into the second game of USA's double header and they are in a predicament. Lucy Fields is currently on the mound and playing a solid game, but Brazil seems to be out for blood. Hahn is behind the plate and seems to be running the field a little off, so Arizona steps up. Callie at third is having a difficult time separating the little incident from lunch with their unity on the field, but the blonde playing shortstop next to her helps.

The next batter steps up, and Arizona sets up on the balls of her feet. Lucy winds up and sends a heater past the woman, getting the first strike. Another pitch, another strike. Mark stands at the edge of the dugout, chewing on a finger nail as he watches his newest addition try to dig herself out of a hole. Another pitch, it's in the dirt but Erica covers it, preventing the runner on two from stealing third and moving into scoring position.

"Heads up, Battleship." Callie says, catching Arizona's attention. "She chops to the left, so it's coming our way."

"I'm on it, Boss." Arizona replies, all eyes turning to the batter again. Another pitch, and she makes contact. But it's a high foul ball that sails left. Both Callie and Arizona take off after it, crossing the chalk lines and barreling towards the crowd.

"Fence! Fence!" Robbins yells, alerting the Latina that she is about to run into the fence. But instead of backing off, Callie keeps chasing it. And in a move that looks far more practiced than it actually is, Torres somersaults over the fence, glove hand reaching out for the ball just in time before tumbling into the bleachers.

Arizona arrives at the fence a split second later, eyes wide. "Callie?" She tries, spying the mass of unmoving Latina. "Callie?" When she doesn't get an answer, the smaller woman nimbly hops over the fence and comes to her teammate's assistance.

"Ow." Torres growls, pushing off the hard cement and raising a gloved hand up for the umpire to see.

"Out!" The field ump calls, and USA explodes.

A big dimpled smile crosses the blonde's face and she reaches out to help Callie back over the fence. "You're crazy, you know that?" She plays, supporting her catcher as she steadies herself on her feet.

"I'm hardcore. ...There's a difference." The Latina groans, tossing the ball back to Lucy on the mound. "Did you see me? You like that?" She asks, thinking that as long as she nearly broke her neck, it might give her some badass points from Arizona.

"All of America saw." Arizona teases, but sends her catcher a wink before turning her attention back to the next batter.

"USA!"

"ALL THE WAY!" The team yells over the roar of the crowd. USA has just won their second straight game, second shut out to be exact. The team is on fire, and everyone is feeling the excitement. Even though there were multiple scoring opportunities for the Brazilians, they could never get a run going. Lucy Fields calmed down and took care of business on the mound, and her team backed her up the entire time. Callie and Arizona handled the left side of the field masterfully while Teddy and Addison handled the right. Miranda Bailey kept Meredith and Cristina in line the entire game in the outfield, while Erica was able to keep Fields head in the game. All in all, it was another great game for Team USA.

"Alright ladies, settle down! Settle down." Webber tries to corral his girls but everyone is amped. "Settle down now, I have something to say." Finally everyone stops talking all eyes turn to the big man in charge. "You ladies played well today. Like a team. That's what I want to see. Now... I'm not saying that we forget about these victories, but remember we still have a long road. Each win counts, so let's keep a level head. Celebrate your wins, but come in to tomorrow with a fresh slate."

"What a downer." Charlotte growls, getting her teammates to chuckle in response. Webber just rolls his eyes and smiles as his team starts to chat amongst themselves again.

But when he gets the signal to move along, the next teams playing start taking the field, he adds "Report to the Testing Facility, give your samples, then you all are free to do as you like. I'm enforcing a curfew of 11 pm tonight, and I will be by personally to make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. We play Russia and Great Britain tomorrow, both solid opponents, so make sure you get some sleep." His team nods in understanding, and a smile crosses his face. "But today, ladies... today you were Team USA. And your country is proud of you. Now scram!"

No one waits to be told twice and everyone heads for the exit of the complex. The field crew have already come by and hauled all their equipment to their storage lockers, so now all they have to do is go to the mandatory, post-competition drug testing. A small part of Erica Hahn is grateful that Amelia Shepard isn't here anymore, because getting caught at the Olympics is so much worse than being caught before the Olympics. Not that she would ever say anything to either Arizona or Callie, but still... the ex-captain sleeps a little easier now.

Hours later, after Callie has yet another meeting with the coaches, Teddy included now that she has been voted captain, both players shuffle back to their rooms. Torres really isn't sure where all the rest of her teammates are, and she doesn't really need to either. Webber is in charge of bed checks tonight so all the Latina needs to do is get her butt back in her apartment by 11 pm tonight.

The first room they get to is Teddy's, and as the first baseman opens the door both hear the telltale sign of a certain redhead laughing, quickly followed by the angelic giggle of Arizona. Callie invites herself in, and stands at the entrance of Altman and Robbins bedroom, watching Arizona try to steady her hands enough to continue painting Addison's toes. Both are laughing so hard tears are streaming from their cheeks, and it's a breathtaking sight for Callie.

When the need for oxygen overtakes them, Arizona comes up for a breath and sees that she and Addison have an audience. "Hey homies!" She exclaims, making dark eyes roll in amusement while Teddy plops down next to the blonde and looks over the pitchers shoulder to view her handiwork. "Look, American Flags!" Arizona adds, awkwardly trying to turn Montgomery's foot for the Latina to see.

"Maybe you could do mine next." Callie offers, getting a dimpled grin in reply. The catcher takes a seat on Teddy's bed, Arizona's bed now cramped with the three other women on it, and watch as the blonde's hands move expertly as she applies the paint. Torres imagines just how magnificent those hands must be with a scalpel, how precise and delicate her movements must be. It's a far cry from what she does with a softball, Arizona whipping it around her body and letting the ball fly at close to 70 miles per hour. Strangely, one turns Callie on just as much as the other.

"There, done. Now don't smudge them." Arizona announces, pulling Callie from her daydreaming. Blue eyes turn to the Latina and she asks "Whose next?"

"Vomit." Teddy groans, making Addison laugh out loud.

Both Arizona and Callie give her a hard look, but Torres suggests "Why don't we move to my room? I have something I want to show you."

"Oh, ok." Arizona replies, not knowing what Callie wants to show her but if it means getting some privacy then she is all for it.

As the duo head out of the apartment, Addison yells after them "Be done by 11! And don't use my bed!" A blush flies across tanned and fair cheeks alike, but neither comment on what the redhead was suggesting. Mainly because both have thought about it more times than they'd care to admit.

Within minutes they enter Torres's apartment, only silence greeting them. Callie isn't sure where Erica or Naomi are, and she doesn't really care as long as they stay gone until 11 pm on the dot.

"So..."Arizona drawls as she enters, what she assumes, is Callie's and Addison's room. The catcher shuts the door behind them, and then approaches the blonde, a smile forming as she watches her pitcher swallow the lump in her throat when the Latina gets close.

Without any introduction, Callie tips her head forward and seals her lips on Arizona's, taking the kiss she's been craving since this morning. Robbins responds immediately, arms reaching up and wrapping around the taller woman's neck to hold her in place.

"Hmmm..." Torres hum in contentment, both parting amicably and resting their foreheads against one another's. "I missed that." She whispers, making dimples appear on her pitchers face. Pulling back slightly, brown eyes survey the face in front of her, looking for the slightest hint that something might be wrong. "How are you?" She asks.

"Alright." Arizona replies, then adds "My feet kinda hurt though..." Callie's brow furrows and her gaze dips down to the sandaled, and painted, feet below them. "You know..." Robbins says. "...from kicking so much ass today."

A deep laugh falls from painted lips and Callie can't imagine Arizona getting any cuter. "Wow... you're kinda full of yourself, aren't you?"

"What can I say? I'm awesome." Arizona replies with a shrug. The pitcher pushes up onto her toes and kisses the Latina one more time before pulling away. "Now... you had something to show me?"

"Umm... yeah..." Callie fumbles, quickly thinking of something she can show the blonde to cover up the fact she just invited Arizona to her room to get her alone. The catcher grabs her laptop and starts it up, then says "I thought we could look over the game footage of Russia and the Brits."

Arizona narrows her gaze at her teammate and chances "You just invited me here to make out with me, didn't you?"

"No!" Torres replies, feigning shock. "I'd never do that." She fights to keep a straight face, but those sharp blue eyes bore into her like a drill. Finally, she caves "Fine, you caught me."

"Mmm, I knew it!" Arizona states triumphantly, the plops down onto the bed that is obviously Callie's. "Come on, sit." The blonde says, patting the space next to her. Callie gladly follows, and then goes into for the kill but a fair hand is held up, preventing plump lips from finding their target. "You're punishment for lying is for me to paint your toenails." The surgeon says, oblivious to the pout on her catchers face.

"Seriously?" Callie whines. "You want to waste this very rare private time by doing my nails? That's just so... wrong."

Arizona giggles at the way her captain has somehow transformed into a cranky 5 year old, but says "You could have just asked me. It's not like Addison and Teddy don't know about us."

"Us?" Callie perks up. "There's an 'us'?"

"Well... you and me usually equal an 'us'. Just like Addison and Teddy equal a 'them'." The blonde replies.

"Wait... Addison and Teddy?" Torres asks, now very interested in what Arizona is saying. Apparently the Latina has been oblivious to everything else happening on her team if she missed the fact that her very straight friend is now pearl diving with Theodora Altman.

"Ew! No!" Arizona squeals, shoving Callie playfully. "Get your mind out of the gutter. I was talking semantics and here you are thinking with your pants."

"Yeah well..." Callie mumbles, a slight blush filling her cheeks. She tries to cover it by stretching out a little on the bed, a hand reaching behind her and massaging at a sore spot just under her left shoulder blade.

"You ok?" Arizona asks when she sees the Latina make a pained face.

"Yeah..." Callie sighs, trying to stretch out the twinge again but not able to. "Just... I think I might have tweaked something going after that foul ball."

"Turn around." The blonde says. When dark eyes just stare back at her, she lets out a huff of impatience and turns the woman so her strong back is facing the pitcher. A warmth rushes over Callie as Arizona's hands make contact, the surgeon's ministrations being gentle and tender, while at the same time practiced and sure. "Right here?" Arizona asks, her own body heat rising at the thought of her hands roaming the Latina's body.

"A little... down, a bit." Callie whispers, then lets out a groan when the blonde hits it. "Yeah, right there."

"There is a small knot there." Robbins states, her heart beating a little faster than it should for her to just be sitting still like she is. "I can ummm... I can work it out for you. If you want, that is."

"S-sure." Torres mumbles, her hands suddenly very damp.

"Take off your shirt." Arizona says, standing to let Callie lay out fully in the prone position.

This catches the Latina's attention, and wide brown eyes turn to meet blue. "Excuse me?"

"It's much easier with skin on skin contact." The pitcher states, using every ounce of practiced will power to assume her most professional tone. Little does Callie know that Arizona would be just as capable of working the sore spot with her shirt on, but Robbins can't resist the chance to see even more luscious caramel flesh.

"Uh huh..." The captain plays. "You sure this isn't your chance to play doctor on me? Because, baby, you don't need to pretend. I'd be more than happy to be your patient."

A smirk plays at pink lips and Arizona knows she's been found out. "Fine, be sore tomorrow..." The blonde huffs, then turns on her heels and makes for the door. But a strong hand grasps her wrist, halting her in her tracks. In a split second Callie is on her feet, keeping her pitcher from retreating. Brown lock with blue and the Latina slowly grips the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and revealing a lacy black and purple bra underneath.

"What next, doctor?" Callie whispers, not missing the way the blonde's eyes have gone wide and have drifted down from the catcher's face. Instead, they are locked on the delicious looking caramel chest, Arizona's fingers just tingling to touch them.

"Uhh... I uhhh...Wow. Those are... Praise baby Jesus..." Arizona mumbles, the sight of Callie's breasts leaving her with the vocabulary of a one year old. "You uhhh, I... I-I umm, yeah. Nice. Um..." Shaking her head and forcing herself to look away, she finally is able to say "Bed."

Torres makes sure to add a bit more sway to her hips as she returns to her twin bed, and then lays out on her stomach. Arizona sends up a silent prayer to whoever may be listening for extra restraint, then straddles the very nice butt of her captain. Both are very aware of how close they are, the heat between them nearing the degree needed to melt steel.

Arizona works at the tender spot, her fingers moving expertly over the catcher's skeletal and muscular system. Sounds that shouldn't be legal flow from Callie's lips, and even if she could stop them, Torres wouldn't. The way the blonde is touching her, the sensuality and the intimacy of the moment is just too perfect for words.

"How's it feeling?" Arizona asks after working in tense silence for five minutes.

"Mmmmm...." Callie hums, her body like jello right now. The blonde just smiles, and after a couple more minutes she stops, her hands starting to cramp up. Sitting back on her heels, she waits for Torres to stir but it doesn't happen. Thinking that the catcher might have fallen asleep, crawls over the woman's body and, holding herself up, peeks down and finds closed eyelids.

"Calliope..." Robbins whispers.

"Hmm?" The catcher breathes out, a satisfied smile on her lips and a look of absolute peace over her face. Not wanting to bother her, Arizona tips to the side and rests her back against the wall, her eyes remaining locked on the stunning woman next to her. Nimble fingers push back a stray lock of raven hair, and finally brown eyes open to meet blue.

Arizona can see a question stewing in those depths, and she asks "What?"

"What did she say to you? Erica, what did she say to you in the cafeteria today?" Callie asks, the question having been clawing at the back of her brain all day.

"It's not important." Arizona replies, the pad of her thumb ghosting over the curve of the Latina's cheek.

"No, seriously Arizona, what did she say?" Torres pushes, propping up on her elbow so the two are mirroring each other.

"Just..." Eyes roll in frustration, that anger returning just from thinking about Hahn. "...She told me, well, us to stop. She inferred that I'm... well, I'm expendable? I don't know, she said that the team was fine before me so that's how I took it." Callie's jaw clenches as she listens to the woman who is quickly stealing her heart recount the conversation with the ex-captain. "I don't know. I think it was more just to unsettle me, you know? I had a good game and she wanted to take me down. ...So I just told her to stick to her job, and I'll stick to mine."

"I don't get it..." Callie sighs, eyes glazing over as she thinks back. "I don't understand how she's changed so much. We were friends for so long and then... well, something happened between us and it's been downhill ever since." She doesn't mention the night where Erica made a pass at her and the Latina shut her down. If there is one thing Callie knows about Hahn is that the woman does not like to be embarrassed.

"The kiss." Arizona states matter of factly.

"What kiss?" Torres asks, confused as to what a kiss has to do with any of this.

"Your kiss?" Robbins replies, now confused as to why the catcher is confused.

"My kiss?" Callie questions, because the only person she can recount kissing in the immediate past is Arizona. "Wait, I'm lost, whose kiss?"

"Yours and Hahn's." Arizona answers, waiting for realization to light brown eyes but it never happens. "Wait, you didn't know you kissed Erica?"

"I never kissed Erica." The Latina states, pushing up into a sitting position to look down at the blonde. "Why would you think I kissed Erica?"

"Because Hahn told me she kissed you." The pitcher replies, also sitting up now.

"Well Erica says a lot of things." Callie growls, anger building at the thought of the ousted blonde spreading lies about her. "She's just-"

"And Addison." Arizona adds, making brown eyes light with anger. "You... You really had no idea?" Callie just shakes her head, trying to recall this so called kiss but she comes up empty.

"When?" The Latina breathes out, now feeling very lost and exposed for some reason. It all fits together a little bit better now that this unknown missing piece has been found. Why Erica was so upset when Callie turned her down, why Hahn has been so rude to Arizona and why her ex co-captain has been so strict when it comes to following 'rule number one'. It's because she's jealous... at least, she was.

"That night you invited me out with the team. When you got so hammered you couldn't walk straight." Robbins explains. "I mean, I didn't see it. But... Addison saw it. She said that... that ummm, Erica went to save you from a guy that was being pushy. She told him to back off, then kissed you. ...And you kissed back. ...With tongue." The same shiver you get from swallowing cough syrup runs down to the pit of the pitchers stomach. The image of Erica's tongue invading Callie's being one Arizona wants to wipe from her mind completely, if only there was such a thing as a brain squeegee.

"Wow... I... I had no idea." Torres sighs, hanging her head in her hands. It's one thing to get drunk around her teammates, which Callie has hardly ever done, but it's a completely different thing to get drunk and start kissing said teammates. A wave of embarrassment, shame, and a bit of anger at Erica for taking advantage of her fills the Latina's mind.

"I didn't either. You came stumbling into the restroom, finding me without a shirt on and-" The blonde continues, giving a full recount of that night.

"Why didn't you have a shirt on?" Callie asks.

"Teddy... beer... long story. Anyways, you stumbled in and somehow we almost kissed. Then Amelia popped in and ruined the mood." The pitcher says with an eye roll. Even when she was drunk and higher than a kite, Shepard had a way of screwing everything up. "But... later that night, when we were all heading back to the Quads, I offered to take you home instead of Erica. That pissed her off majorly. ...When I got you back to your room, you were so out of it. But... you said 'I don't want to kiss you'. I was the only one in the room, you were talking to me and you said 'I don't want to kiss you'."

"That's why you got all weird after that night." Torres states, all those little things falling into place very neatly now. "You... you thought I was saying I didn't want to kiss you." Turning to meet blue eyes for the first time since learning about the ill fated Hahn kiss, Callie asks "I was drunk, and you believed me? Why didn't you just talk to me?"

"Because..." Arizona sighs, letting out a small, forced laugh. "Because I was the NewGirl... and I had the biggest straight girl crush in the world. ...Or, at least I thought you were straight. Then I learned that you actually did like girls only to be told you didn't want to kiss me. ...Was sort of batting double goose eggs there." Both women chuckle lightly, falling into a comfortable silence.

"You had a crush on me?" Callie asks after a minute.

"How did I know that's what you would focus on?" Arizona plays, shoving the Latina and making her fall back onto the bed, the blonde quickly falling on top of her.

"I'll talk to her." Torres whispers, tucking a lock of blonde hair streaming down behind a cute little ear.

"Don't." Her pitcher states, making brown eyes narrow. "It's... She just wants the attention. And I don't want to give it to her. So just... don't say anything. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can, Battleship." Callie teases, then closes the small gap between them with a soft kiss. Arizona immediately relaxes, her body molding with the one under hers and both moaning at the contact. Only now does the Latina remember she is without a shirt, and knowing that Arizona still has hers on is a grave injustice. Tanned hands slip down their bodies and tug on the long sleeved USA pull over Arizona has on, the blonde immediately understanding what her catcher wants and she sits up, pulling the top up over her head.

It's not the first time Callie has seen the shorter woman without a shirt, but it's the first time her milky breasts haven't been obscured by a sports bra. The white lace only enhances the slight tan Arizona has, and Callie's center heats up in a second.

"Stop drooling." Arizona growls, then reclaims plump lips in passionate kiss the next. Both women get lost in one another, hands exploring naked flesh but never crossing the imaginary line the drawstring of their pants make. It's enough to be by themselves, able to express their growing feelings with a heated embrace. Neither want to rush, or push things, both happy that they are finally where they are. It's taken months to just get here, on this bed, comfortable with each other and willing to stick their necks out. They are so consumed with one another that neither hears the soft click of the bedroom door closing, and neither sees a certain blonde haired woman walking way... with fire in her eyes.