idk what this is, to be honest — it was meant to be something short and simple because it's been forever since i posted something and now it's 4k+? but as you know, i have a lot of stef x callie feelings, so. oy to the vey. i hope this makes sense because i wrote this in about two hours and i still haven't slept yet. enjoy!

oh, and thanks to Lavender Angel for telling me about her ideas so that i can steal them :~)

She tried to hold it in, really. The minute her seatbelt was buckled, she felt the urge, but she waited for Stef to climb in the driver's side and pull away from the house that once was Girls United. Rita hadn't said anything to Stef about Callie's…less-than-intelligent actions, and so all Stef knew was that Callie had been in the house with the other girls when the fire started. But Callie had only worn the oxygen mask the fireman had handed her for a minute, tearing it off her face the moment she no longer felt like the fire was inside her. But now, in grimy pajamas and with the icy air from the passenger-side vents washing over her, Callie could feel the smoke in her belly curl up through her throat, wanting to force its way out like Callie's body was a chimney.

Callie cast a sidelong look at Stef, whose long, graceful fingers were nervously tapping on the steering wheel. Callie had felt her desperation in the hugs she given; the way her hands gripped her neck just a little too tightly, the way her mouth pressed against Callie's cheek just a little too long. Though Callie could not take back what she'd done – and nor would she want to – she didn't want Stef to worry more than she already was. She rolled down the window, and leaned over the edge as far as the webbed nylon strap would allow.

"Are you alright, love?" Stef asked, her voice carrying over the wind rushing in Callie's ears. "Do you need me to pull over? Are you going to be sick?"

The cough not forthcoming, Callie leaned sheepishly back in her seat and rolled the window back up. "No," she shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Stef asked. Callie knew Stef was just concerned, but this question was getting a little repetitive.

"Yes, I promise," Callie answered. At that moment, the smoke decided to make its appearance. Callie pulled her knees up to her chest, the heels of her Converse resting on the car seat. She tucked her chin between her legs and coughed, hacking for what felt like an eternity. It was a dry, scratchy cough; the kind that rips at your throat and goes up your nose like pool water. It hurt, and when it was over, Callie panted like she'd run a mile at a full-tilt sprint.

"Callie!" Stef exclaimed. She'd been rubbing Callie's back during her episode, half of her attention on the road before them and half of her attention on her daughter. "You really don't sound okay."

"Well, I am," Callie rasped, her throat still raw.

"Here," Stef ignored her, digging around in the backseat for a half-empty water bottle. "Drink."

Callie didn't argue. No matter the temperature or the condition of the liquid, it sounded heavenly to her right about now. She downed half of what was left in one gulp, and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "Thanks," she said quietly.

"Of course."

Callie felt a few more attacks rise up during the rest of the drive, but she managed to quench them with the remains of the water. When Stef pulled into the driveway, Callie jumped out of the car and walked across the lawn and up onto the porch, itching to get inside and go to bed. Stef had a way of pulling the truth from her, and if they stayed in close proximity for too much longer, Callie was afraid she'd narc on herself, and then the whole jig would be up.

Stef smiled tightly at Callie as she joined her by the door, pulling keys from her pocket and letting Callie pass in front of her. Stef locked the door behind them, and squeezed Callie's arm above the wrist.

"You must be exhausted," she said. Callie nodded. Sleep was a good reason to get away from Stef. "Do you think you have energy for a shower?"

Callie flushed a little. She hadn't seen herself in a mirror lately, but she was sure she looked – and smelled – like she'd been dragged out of the ash heap. She stifled a yawn in her elbow. "Um, yeah, I should probably—"

"What about a bath?" Stef suggested. "That way, you don't have to stand up, and you can relax a little. I can imagine how scared you must have been."

Callie bit her lip. In the moment, she hadn't been – she'd known what needed to be done, and she just did it, regardless of potential consequences. Now, though, that she'd been hugged and caressed and taken home, the anxiety was beginning to set it. She felt her knees quiver beneath her weight, and suddenly standing upright was sounding less and less like a good idea.

"Yeah, a bath," she said weakly. "Good idea."

Callie looked away as Stef gazed tenderly at her. "Why don't you run up and get some clean jammies?" Stef said. "I'll run you a bath in the big tub, and you can sleep on Lena's side tonight."

"Oh, I don't know—" Callie hedged. Sleeping with Stef? The risks were far greater than being in her own room, although if she woke up Mariana with her coughing in the night, chances were fairly high that she would alert the moms.

"Please?" Stef asked, almost pleading. "It's lonely in there by myself, and I'd like to have you with me. Plus, your brothers and sister are already asleep, and I haven't had a chance to talk to them about the fire."

"Yeah, okay," Callie agreed. "I'll be quiet when I go get my stuff."

"I'll see you in a minute," Stef grinned slightly, and they both went upstairs. They turned in opposite directions once in the upstairs hall, and Callie crept into her room and grabbed the first set of PJs she found in the drawer. She took off her shoes, leaving them by her bed, and tiptoed out of the room and down the hall to the master bedroom.

Callie bit her lip. She'd never actually gone into the moms' room by herself before. This was oddly new territory, and a bit intimidating. She knocked quietly, hoping Stef would invite her in so that she didn't feel like she was trespassing.

"Come on in, Callie," Stef called out, and Callie sighed in relief. She entered, pushing the door to behind her, and went into the bathroom where Stef was sitting on the edge of a deep soaker tub. Callie watched, a bit entranced, as Stef tested the water temperature with her hand. Then, she took a big bottle of bluish goop and squirted several jets of it under the faucet.

"What's that?" Callie asked curiously.

Stef smiled. "I thought you might like some bubbles in your bath."

Callie looked down, unsure how to respond to the gesture. When Stef and Lena did things like this for her – little things, silly things, things that most kids wouldn't bat an eye at – it gave her this warm, tingly feeling deep in the pit of her belly. She wasn't sure how to categorize it; she just knew that it felt good, if weird.

"Thanks," she said.

"Any time, baby," Stef responded easily. "Towels are on the rack, your toothbrush is by the sink, and I'm just next door if you need me."

Callie nodded, and Stef went back into the bedroom. As the tub filled, Callie stripped off her soot-stained sweatshirt and leggings, tossing them, her socks, and her underwear into the washing machine. She would've put them in the hamper, but she didn't want anyone else's clothes to be affected by the smoke. She set her clean pajamas on the vanity top and slid under the tropical-scented foam.

The bath felt amazing. Maybe it was because of the bubbles, maybe it was because of the night she'd had – maybe it was even because Stef had run it for her. But all Callie cared about was that it was rejuvenating. The steam from the water opened up her sinuses, and Callie felt like she could really breathe for the first time in hours. She felt a little sharpness between her eyes, but she attributed that to stress and fatigue.

The water was starting to turn cold, and Callie's fingers were pruned, when she remembered that she should wash her hair and body. Quickly, she scrubbed herself down and dunked under the water, and then let the suds drain as she wrapped a fluffy towel around herself and dried off. She added the towel to the machine, and dressed in her new pajamas. She poured some detergent into the machine's slot and turned it on. Then she turned on the exhaust fan, turned off the bathroom light, and went out to the bedroom.

Callie had assumed that Stef would be asleep, but she was awake and reading when Callie came in.

"How was your bath, love?" Stef asked, marking her page and pushing her glasses up her nose.

"Great, thanks," Callie answered. She shifted her weight awkwardly, unsure how to proceed.

"Do you sleep with your hair down?" Stef asked suddenly.

Callie played with a damp curl. "Um, not usually," she admitted.

"Do you want me to braid it?" Stef asked.

Callie furrowed her brow. Stef seemed to be looking for things to do with Callie tonight. She wasn't exactly sure why, but as it seemed important, Callie figured she didn't mind enough to turn her down.

"Okay, if you want to," Callie shrugged. Stef beamed and got up.

"I'll get my comb and a hair tie, you just climb in bed."

Callie bit her lip, but climbed in the near side and tried to get comfortable.

"Callie?" Callie stopped shifting, feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Did you start a load of laundry?"

"Oh, yeah," Callie said, suddenly worried. "I just…everything was smoky, and I didn't want to lump it in with your stuff, and I figured I was in there anyway so I might as well—"

Stef poked her head out of the door. "It's not a problem, love," she said gently. "I would've taken care of it, but it was very helpful of you to do it yourself. I'll be out in a minute, okay?"

Callie nodded, and sure enough, Stef came back out soon. With her tools in hand, she repositioned Callie on the bed so that she was propped up between Stef's knees.

"I used to do Mariana's hair sometimes when she was little," Stef said quietly as she tugged the wide-tooth comb through Callie's tangles. "It was very long, then, and it would take forever to do. But she wouldn't cut it, so Lena and I would trade off in the mornings. Lena always did fancy styles, with bows and clips and ribbons and things, but I was more of a brush-and-band type girl," Stef laughed. "One thing I was very good at, though, was the french braid. That's a popular style at work, and when I was at the Academy, someone taught me how. Lena never learned because she could never get her hair to cooperate, so that was the one – and only – thing I could do better than her."

As she spoke, Stef deftly separated Callie's hair into three sections, and began twisting them together from the crown of her head to the nape of her neck. Callie had never had someone braid her hair like this, and she let her mind wander amongst the soothing scrapes of Stef's fingernails against her scalp. She slowly drifted off, and was surprised and a bit disappointed when Stef patted her shoulder and said, "All done!"

"Oh," Callie yawned. "Okay."

"C'mon, baby," Stef said, guiding Callie back to the left side of the bed and helping her under the covers. "It's been a long day."

Callie was so close to sleep that she barely noticed when Stef tugged the blankets up under her chin and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight," Callie mumbled, allowing her eyes to drift closed.

All Callie could see was thick, black smoke. Every now and then, a giant flame would leap out and try to lick at her, angry reds and oranges stinging her eyes and making her heart beat a million times a minute. "Rita?" she called. "Becka!"

The two of them were lying on the floor, both unconscious. Callie pressed her wrist to her mouth and nose, but without her other arm, she could barely drag Becka a couple inches. Rita was immoveable. Callie's vision grew blurrier, and she felt sick to her stomach. She called out their names, again and again, until the names she was calling began to morph into her own. But, that wasn't her voice, was it? It sounded almost like – like Stef's! Stef was calling out for her, to rescue her!

But Callie was trapped in the basement, and she couldn't get out. Her body grew weaker and weaker until she just dropped to the floor, her body joining Rita and Becka's in the pile of the dead.

"Callie!" Even though she was dead, Callie could still hear a voice calling her name. She tried to call back, but no words would come out. She began to shake, violently. "Callie! Callie!" She couldn't see a thing!

Suddenly, her eyes popped open. Stef was leaning over her, shaking her shoulders and staring at her with fierce concern. Callie was embarrassed for a split second, and then she bolted up, nearly knocking foreheads with Stef in the process. She darted into the bathroom and knelt before the toilet, feeling the sorry excuse for a dinner she'd had come up with the remainder of the soot in her lungs.

"Oh, honey," Stef soothed, rubbing Callie's back as she retched. "It's okay, it's okay." When Callie had emptied her stomach, Stef pulled her down so that her back rested against the tub, and she wet a washcloth and pressed it against Callie's clammy forehead. Callie felt completely drained, and let her body go limp like a ragdoll's and sag against Stef's soft warmth.

"Feeling better?" Stef asked gently.

"Mmm," Callie mumbled noncommittally. "Headache's still there, but I'm not nauseated anymore."

"Well, let's get you some ibuprofen and some more sleep, hmm?" Stef handed Callie the washcloth, as she'd been dabbing Callie's face and neck with it. Callie wiped off her mouth, and Stef soon bent down in front of her with two striped pills and a small cup of water. Callie downed the meds and allowed Stef to help her up and back into bed.

"Thanks," Callie said sleepily, when Stef had tucked her in again.

"Of course," Stef said, not needing to be told all the deeds that the thanks encompassed.

"No, I mean it," Callie pressed, her ailments and exhaustion loosening her tongue. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby," Stef laughed lightly, kissing Callie's forehead and smoothing the sheets beneath her chin.

Callie thought, but didn't say out loud, that she'd gone back into the basement because she knew that's what Stef would've done. Stef was her hero.

In the morning, Callie woke to find that the other side of the bed was empty. She felt a little more cogent than she had the previous night, and so she stumbled out of bed and down the stairs. She heard voices in the kitchen, so that's where she headed.

"—so Chelsea and Savannah put it in our tent, and Maddie came looking for it at midnight!" Jude was saying animatedly to Jesus and Mariana. "And we were all asleep, and Neil thought Maddie was a ghost, and I said it was probably a bear, and then Connor unzipped the tent and it was just Maddie looking for her t-shirt."

They all laughed, and Jude looked up to see Callie in the doorway. "Callie!" he cried, getting up and rushing to hug her. Callie coughed at the impact, but covered it up by saying hi.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Stef said from the stove, where she was making pancakes.

"Morning," Callie replied. She turned her attention back to Jude. "How was your trip, buddy?" she asked, ruffling his hair.

"Um, it was good. Mama had a good time, too," he said proudly. Then he stole a glance over his shoulder at Lena. "Right?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, it was a huge success. How were the girls? I thought you were coming back this afternoon."

Callie shrugged, looking to Stef for assistance.

"There was a fire last night at Girls United," Stef said.

"What? Was anybody hurt? Are you hurt?" Lena asked quickly.

"Um, one of the girls…" Callie stopped, unsure of how much she could reveal. "She was closest to the fire when it started, so she inhaled a lot of smoke, but Rita was gonna call today and let us know how she is. I'm okay," she said, wincing as her voice hitched oddly and her raw vocal chords chafed against one another.

"There's something about the fire in the paper," Mariana exclaimed. "Look, here it is."

Buried deep in the local insert of the paper, there was a small sidebar about the blaze. "Local Halfway House Lights Up Night," she read aloud. "Girls United, a group home for troubled teens in Mission Bay, caught fire last night around 11:30 PM. One juvenile remains in the hospital, but there were no fatalities thanks to the bravery of Rita Hendricks, home director, and one of her young charges. The fire chief is still investigating the cause of the fire, but foul play is not suspected."

Callie blanched. The phrase 'one of her young charges' rang continuously in her head. It stood out to her because, of course, she knew that the young charge was her. But she had to remain calm, in order to keep suspicion off of herself. Rita had chewed her out enough, and she had no interest in reliving the scolding.

Callie looked up, trying to play it cool. Mariana, Jesus, Jude, and Lena didn't seem like they noticed anything out of place. But Callie could sense Stef's eyes on her. Crap, crap, crap.

"Do you know who went back into the house, Callie?" Jude asked innocently.

"Whoever it was must be a total badass!" Jesus said.

"Jesus!" Lena scolded. "Language, please."

"And, while brave, going back into a burning building without any sort of training or preparation is very, very dangerous," Stef said sternly. Her words were directed at all of them, but Callie felt each one land directly in her. "There are all sorts of tests that firefighters must pass before they're cleared for duty, and even police officers like me aren't supposed to go in for rescues."

Thankfully, after that the conversation was dropped. Callie settled in beside Jude at the table for some Sunday breakfast. Everybody ate and talked, though Callie mostly listened, but as everyone migrated out of the house or upstairs for their Sunday activities, Callie felt stuck in the kitchen, weighted down by Stef's glare.

"I know that you realize how incredibly foolish what you did last night was, so I don't think I need to spell that out for you again," Stef said.

Callie gulped quietly, her eyes tracing the wood grain of the table.

"But I will say that this is not the first time we've had this conversation. If you'll recall, it was a very similar situation to this that we talked about one of your first nights in this home."

Callie nodded.

"As such, I think some punishment is in order. Wouldn't you agree, Lena?"

"What are we talking about?" Lena asked, bewilderedly.

Callie's eyes shot up, pleading with Stef not to tell. Stef ignored her.

"Callie is the one who went back into the house last night and helped Rita carry Becka out. She saved both their lives, but endangered her own in the process. Am I missing anything, Callie?"

Callie shook her head meekly.

"Callie," Lena breathed. She got up from her stool and came around to Callie's side of the table, pressing Callie's head into her shoulder. "Oh, Callie."

"I never want to have this conversation with you again, young lady. Do you understand me?" Stef asked sharply.

Callie pulled her head off Lena's chest and nodded. "Yes," she agreed.

"So I think today you're going to be my buddy. You will sit on that couch in the living room and take it easy, am I clear?"

Callie nodded. "You're gonna stay with me?" Though Stef had said this was going to be punishment, Callie couldn't think of anything she'd rather do than hang out with Stef and watch TV.

Stef smiled slightly. "Yep. I have some work to do, but I can do it down here and keep an eye on you."

"Okay!" Callie said brightly. She realized, a moment too late, that perhaps she'd been too enthusiastic, so she frowned a little and recanted. "I mean, I guess so, if you have to."

"Oh, I have to," Stef nodded, sharing an amused look with Lena over Callie's head.

After a couple of mind-numbing movies and some home renovation show that Lena liked called Rehab Addict, Callie passed out between Stef and Lena on the couch. Mariana had gone to the mall, Jesus was meeting with his new algebra tutor, Jude was at Connor's mom's house, and Brandon was out with his band.

"She didn't get much sleep last night," Stef told Lena as they migrated into the kitchen to start making dinner. They laid a blanket over Callie and stretched her out so she'd be more comfortable. "She was tossing and turning, and woke up screaming once. She got sick after that, and so I think she's just worn out."

"She had a big night," Lena agreed, pulling carrots and potatoes out of the crisper drawer.

"I cannot believe she went back into a burning building," Stef exclaimed. "I mean, of all the stupid, foolhardy, life-endangering things she could have done—"

Lena laughed loudly.

"What?" Stef asked, a bit irritably. "I don't think it's funny that our daughter could've died."

Lena frowned. "Oh, Stef, of course that's not funny," she said softly. "How could you even think that?"

Stef bit her lip, abashed. "I'm sorry, I didn't think," she apologized.

"You're not wrong, though," Lena said generously. "But that's not why I was laughing."

"Why were you, then?"

Lena smiled a bit. "Don't you see?"

"See what?"

"That you and Callie are exactly alike!" Lena tossed her head. "I swear, sometimes I look at her and I can't believe that the two of you aren't blood-related. You're identical – your mannerisms, your stubborn natures, your huge hearts…" Lena trailed off, gazing lovingly at her wife. "If it had been you in that situation, you would've done the exact same thing."

"I would not!" Stef argued.

"Don't you dare lie, Stefanie Adams Foster," Lena warned lightly. "I know you. You would have run right back into that house and gotten that girl out of there, just like Callie did. And yes, she shouldn't risk her life like that, and yes, it's a miracle she wasn't hurt worse, but you can't tell me you're not the least bit proud of her."

"Of course I'm proud of her!" Stef said hotly. "I'm always proud of her. But I'm mad at her, too! And worried, very worried."

"How do you think I feel, babe?" Lena asked. "Knowing you could be in a situation like that every single day terrifies me, but I love you enough to recognize that you couldn't be the you I love so much if you weren't a police officer."

"Do you think Callie wants to be a cop?" Stef asked. "I mean, we've never really—"

Lena shuddered involuntarily. "I don't know," she said honestly. "She's never mentioned anything to me. But she loves helping people, just like you. I think she feels sometimes like she can't help herself, so she wants to help the people she can."

Stef nodded slowly. "She did say something last night," Stef mused, remembering a moment caught between sleeping and waking.

"What?" Lena asked.

"She was mumbling, but I think she said, 'you're my hero,'" Stef quoted. "You don't think she meant me, do you?"

"Well, I can't say for sure," Lena said with a smile. "But I know that you're my hero," she grinned flirtatiously, leaning across the counter for a kiss.

"Aw, you're so sweet, my love," Stef answered, pressing a palm against Lena's cheek and kissing her passionately.

Later, when dinner was almost ready, Stef went back into the living room to wake Callie. Callie was talking in her sleep, but she didn't seem afraid, which Stef took as a good sign.

"Callie, love," Stef called softly. "It's time for dinner."

"Hmm? Mmm," Callie moaned, waking up slowly and stretching. "What?" she asked, still drowsy.

"We're gonna eat dinner soon, Mama and I made chicken pot pie," Stef said, giggling a bit at her rhyme.

"Okay," Callie agreed, yawning quietly as she sat up and stretched some more.

"And, Callie?"

"Yeah?"

"You're my hero, too," Stef said, kissing Callie's temple and retreating to the kitchen.