Title: The History of Love

Author: GreysAddictJ

Pairing: Callie/Arizona

Rating: NC-17/M

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. No infringement intended. Also, I don't use a beta, so all mistakes are mine.

Summary: Callie uses dirty tactics to keep Arizona all hot and bothered on Valentine's Day.

A/N: For the Valentine's Day Challenge on the Callie_Arizona Live Journal

Arizona let out a petulant sigh as she ran a frustrated hand through her blonde locks. She leaned against the counter of the nurses' station and tried to focus on the chart in front of her. It wasn't easy, however, because all she felt like doing was throwing a temper tantrum. This was not the way she wanted to spend what was in theory supposed to be the most romantic day of the year. Somehow, both she and her girlfriend had drawn the short straw and were working the entirety of Valentine's Day. To make matters worse, for whatever reason, the hospital was slammed. They had been there since early this morning and she'd not had a spare moment to spend with Callie. All she wanted was a few minutes, just a few minutes to spend in her gorgeous girlfriend's arms. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so. Cupid was clearly not in the building.

As she flipped the pages of the chart, a little pink piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Confused, she bent down and picked it up. She smiled as she immediately recognized Callie's handwriting.

Hey Babe,

We've got a great thing going. It's special. It's sexy. It's amazing. It's freaking epic. I was thinking about it, and all those famous couples from history and literature – they've got nothing on us. Take Romeo and Juliet for instance – lame. I mean, who are we kidding? They were like 15. Who the hell knows about love at 15? It's about as ridiculous as Justin Bieber singing about love – what does he know? His stones haven't even dropped. But I digress. Romeo and Juliet – total emo nightmare. I mean killing yourself at 15 over a crush? Come on. We're so much better than that. Shakespeare should write a play about us. Except that all those stodgy people who like Shakespeare would be horrified. Because well, our play would be dirty. Very dirty. What would it be called? Much Ado About Fucking? A Midsummer Night's Scream? Love's Labor Lust? Okay, those just sound like porn titles, but you get the point. Juliet and her whiny boytoy have a lot to learn from us. We don't need to friggin' balcony. The bed suits us just fine. Or the floor . . . or the kitchen counter . . . or the shower . . . or the desk in the Chief's office . . . you get my drift. And we don't need any stupid family feud. There's enough of a war between our thighs as it is. The only difference – we're both going to come out winners. Probably more than once. So happy Valentine's Day babe. Our love is epic. And hot. And I want you. Every second of every day.

-Calliope

Arizona struggled to maintain her composure. She felt a heated flush creep over her body as she scanned her surroundings, praying that no one had noticed the reaction the note had gotten from her. Steadying her breath, she shoved the note in her pocket and continued on her rounds, stopping in on patients and trying her hardest to focus on the tiny humans and their parents when all she really wanted to think about was a certain ortho goddess with a dirty mind and a body to die for.

Shortly thereafter, she headed to ready herself for surgery. As she grabbed one of her pink butterfly-covered scrub caps, she noticed a corner of pink sticking out. She reached for it and pulled out another note from her girlfriend. She inwardly groaned, sensing where this note was heading, but was unable to resist reading its contents.

Hey Beautiful,

Sir Lancelot and Guinevere are another of those storybook couples, the type who will go down in history as one of the greatest romances of all time. But again – they pale in comparison to what we have. Guinevere might have been the Queen of England, but you're the Queen of my heart. I'll bow down and worship, revere, cherish every inch of your body, memorizing each and every curve with my eyes, my hands, my lips. Then, I'll let you rule me, in whatever way you wish. After all, what the Queen wants, the Queen gets. Though I'm hoping this Queen is feeling as hot as I am right now. Because I'm your lady-in-waiting – that's right. I'll be waiting, to service you, in any way you see fit. And by the end of the night, they'll have to rechristen our kingdom. Not Camelot. But Come-a-Lot. Yeah, I went there. Deal with it. I want you. Now.

-Calliope

Arizona quickly shoved the note into her pocket and leaned against the scrub sink, attempting to steady her ragged breath. She was beyond thankful that this was a routine appendectomy. Had it been a more complicated procedure, Calliope would have been in major trouble. Her concentration was decidedly not on the operation at hand. After scrubbing in, she headed to the OR. "Karev, you're taking the lead on this one." She said. It was moments like this when she was glad to have a resident. She didn't need anyone asking why her hands were shaking.

After her surgery, she removed her surgical gown and grabbed her lab coat off the peg where she'd left it. After putting it on, she began to leave the room, sticking her hands in her pockets out of habit. As she reached down into the lab coat, she felt the familiar crinkle of paper against her hand. Not again, she thought. Callie was going to be the death of her. She pulled out the note, looked around to make sure she was alone, and began to read.

Hey hot stuff,

Adam and Eve – the world's first couple. Or something. Not that there was really any romance. I mean, it seemed like Eve was pretty much there just to be Adam's bitch. But I'll be your bitch any day. Or any night. Or, well, really, any time. You've got me hooked. What can I say? I am addicted to you, Arizona Robbins. But back to Adam and Eve. Maybe if Adam had kept his woman better occupied, if you catch my drift, she wouldn't have been tempted to eat that apple. Trust me babe, had that been us two, you'd have never even noticed that damn tree of forbidden fruit – because I wouldn't have let you out of arms for a minute. And we don't need any garden of Eden, any paradise. Because when we're together, it's our own private paradise. The way you make me feel – it's like nothing else. Total paradise. Which is what I promise you, as soon as I get my hands on you.

-Calliope

Arizona shook her head and struggled to remember what she was supposed to be doing. Didn't Callie have any control? Didn't she know that she had a job to do? But then again, this whole thing was driving her wild. In the best way possible. Still, when she got her hands on Calliope Torres, she was a dead woman. Arizona headed to her locker to grab some cash for the vending machine. Maybe a candy bar would distract her. As she opened her locker, she noticed it – another damn note. She was already a walking ball of pent-up frustration and hormones, the place between her legs already ablaze. How much more of this could she take? She ran a hand through her hair. Of course, she could solve this problem by ignoring the notes. But yeah, who was she kidding. That wasn't going to happen. She grabbed the note and sat down to read.

Hey gorgeous,

Next up – Paris and Helen of Troy. They said hers was the face that launched a thousand ships. I know I'd throw my country, the world, whatever I had in my power into turmoil, just for a night with you. Your face, your body, your soul – launches the thousand ships of my heart. And today, when we finally meet, my face – between your thighs – will launch a thousand sighs, a thousand moans. But you'll love it – like you always do. Because let's face it. You're as dirty as I am. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Like Paris, I'd go to battle for you. God forbid anyone ever try and steal you from me like they stole Helen. I would end them. I would cut them. You are mine. And the only battle for us should be between the sheets.

-Calliope

Arizona let out a ragged breath. This was getting out of hand. People were starting to look at her funny. She did her best to smile and skate around the Peds Ward, acting as if nothing were going on, when in reality, she was on fire. Every one of her nerve endings was at full attention. She didn't know how much more of this teasing she could take. Suddenly, her pager when off. She was relieved for a distraction and reached into her pocket to retrieve it. However, when she did so, she discovered the beeping device was wrapped in yet another note. What the hell! How the hell did Callie manage to get this note to her? It was like her girlfriend was some sort of erotic ninja, silently stalking her without being seen. She looked at her pager and noted that it was a message from Callie, saying to read the note. She did as she was told.

Hey baby,

Pocahontas and John Smith. Another one of those glamorized love stories. It probably didn't even really happen. But I have a few observations. First, I'd take you in a loin cloth any day. But then again, you could make a garbage bag look hot. It doesn't matter what you're wearing, I'm constantly undressing you with my eyes. And I make no apologies . . . sorry, I got a little distracted – nice visual image running through my head – you in our bed, wearing nothing but a smile. But back to the famous lovers. Pocahontas may have gotten a Disney movie, but that doesn't make her better than us. Besides, there's no way we'd ever be a Disney movie, because, let's face it, the things I want to do to you are so far from G-rated it's not even funny. You, me, a teepee in the middle of the woods, I can picture it. If the tent's a rockin' don't come a knockin'.

-Calliope

Arizona let out a frustrated groan, eliciting a confused look from a nearby nurse. This had gone on long enough. She strode from the Peds Ward and headed to find her girlfriend. She was a woman on a mission and she wouldn't stop until she found Callie. Luckily, she didn't have to look long. Getting off the elevator, she saw Callie, her back to her, leaning against the counter of the nurses' station, joking with Mark. Arizona approached her girlfriend, grabbed her by the lab coat, and dragged her without a word, into the nearest supply closet. Mark raised an amused eyebrow, but neither woman even noticed.

As soon as the door was shut, Arizona pressed her body flush against Callie's, her mouth immediately devouring her girlfriend's. She wasted no time deepening the kiss as she traced Callie's lips with her tongue. A low moan rumbled in Arizona's throat as their tongues dueled for control. She tunneled her hands through Callie's raven locks as she raised her thigh between Callie's legs, pressing it urgently against her girlfriend's heated center. Callie responded with a gasp, as she ground down to meet Arizona's pressure.

Unable to be patient any longer, Arizona plunged her hand down into her girlfriend's scrub pants, quickly delving into her slickened folds. Callie quickly followed, wasting no time in entering her girlfriend's heated core. They rocked against each other, matching each other stroke for stroke, slamming against the door, oblivious to anything but their mutual coupling. There was no talking, simply the duet of ragged breathing, sighs and moans as they danced together towards their inevitable end. Though their pairing was quick and frenzied, it wasn't rough, it wasn't dirty. It was layered with the implicit, unsaid words of love. Finally, moving together in one last push of love, they crashed, they fell, they came together. They were one. Slowly, coming down together, they slumped against one another, bodies shuddering, breathing uneven. They held each other in comfortable silence as they regained their composure.

Resting her chin in the crook of Arizona's neck, Callie whispered. "Happy Valentine's Day, baby."