Through the glass sliding doors, Owen could see Cristina and Izzie outside on the bench in the ambulance bay. It was hard to tell their expressions since they were facing away from the windows, but it was clear that it was an intense conversation. He watched as Cristina's stray curls fluttered lightly in the breeze, and then turned away from the window. He walked to the desk and looked through some patient charts, mostly just to occupy himself.
Five minutes later, Izzie entered the building and went down the hallway towards the elevator. Her eyes were rimmed red, but her head was up and she seemed to walk with a purpose. She pressed the elevator button and waited. Owen knew Izzie was sick; Bailey had just told Callie and him 15 minutes earlier. It was shocking; she looked so healthy, but then even the healthiest looking people could keep their secret from others, at least for a time. That was something Owen knew from firsthand experience.
He turned towards the doors, expecting to see Cristina following, but she wasn't there. He waited a few moments longer, then walked to the window to check on her. She was still on the bench, sitting alone now, looking down at the ground. Her body language gave a dual impression of exhaustion and sadness. The doors opened as group of people entered the hospital, and he passed them, exiting the building and heading towards her.
It was a chilly night, and Cristina was grateful for the extra warmth she felt when Owen sunk slowly onto the bench beside her, close enough so their arms and legs were touching. She didn't look up.
"Are you alright?" He asked, quietly.
"Yes," she replied. Then, a second later, "no."
"How long have you known?"
"A few days. Not long."
"Ah," he said, "That explains why you've seemed distracted."
"Yeah." She sighed, and then tilted her head down to lean on his shoulder. She wouldn't have normally done this where people could see them, but tonight it didn't matter. Tonight was about people you loved. She pulled her hand out of her jacket pocket and grabbed onto his.
"You're cold," she said, and still holding his hand, slipped them both together back into her pocket. He felt the warmth of the fleece and the pressure of her body through the jacket. It was cozy.
They sat for a few minutes in contemplative silence. It was a quiet night in the E.R. and there hadn't been many ambulances. The sounds of the traffic from the main drag a block over echoed down the alley.
Cristina's head was still on Owen's shoulder; he turned slightly and spoke to her, and she could feel the warmth of his breath.
"I'm sorry I missed your solo surgery today. I really wanted to be there for it."
"That's
okay. I knew you would come if you could." She lifted her head
and looked up at him for the first time. He could tell she had been
crying, but her eyes were dry now. "I did really well," she
said, smiling.
He returned her smile. "I know you did. I
knew you would. You're Cristina Yang. You can do anything."
She laughed at that, and he felt good making her laugh and forget her
worries for a moment.
"So what was up? Did the face thing take longer than you thought?" She asked.
"No, that went pretty quickly, actually. Bailey sent me over to Derek Shepherd's to try to convince him to come back."
"What?" Cristina's confused look, the way her forehead wrinkled and her eyebrows twisted into odd shapes, was adorable. Her funny looks always made him want to kiss her.
"Bailey sent Torres to try to convince Shepherd to return, and Torres disappeared, so she sent me. No one ever says no to Bailey, do they? She would do well in the army. She'd be a four star general in no time." Owen smiled to himself. He didn't know how Bailey, such a tiny person, could be so intimidating and convincing that he had found himself doing what she wanted in spite of himself. He also saw a lot of similarities between Bailey and Cristina; he could imagine himself giving in to Cristina and knew he would have to guard against her figuring out that power she had over him or it would be all over for him.
"What happened? He needs to apologize to Meredith before he does anything. Him and his stupid ring." Owen thought for a moment; he didn't know all the details, but he knew Derek's behavior towards Meredith had been fairly awful. He wondered why Cristina considered it a "stupid" ring.
"Well," Owen sighed, "when I arrived it looked like Callie had been there for awhile. Instead of bringing him back to the hospital, it seems Derek had made her depressed and miserable. And before I knew it, I got sucked into the abyss, as well."
Cristina looked up at him sharply. "What do you mean?"
Owen wasn't sure how to explain. "We were talking about our patients, the ones we lost unexpectedly. We all lose patients." He stopped and started again, looking for words. "We all lose people." He stopped again. Now he seemed far away. "We lose people," he said again. There was a long pause, and he continued. "We try not to think about them. And when we do think of them, it's overwhelming." He wasn't looking at her anymore. She could feel him squeezing her hand inside her pocket tightly, so tight it almost hurt.
"Owen," she said softly. He was still distracted. She spoke a little more loudly, "Owen."
He looked back at her, and blinked a few times, as if he just realized where he was. She's so beautiful, he thought to himself, she's so beautiful and I want to lose myself in her and forget everything around me.
Cristina was watching the emotions play across his face. He could see the concern register in her eyes, and he remembered that tonight should be about her, about helping her with Izzie Stevens and celebrating her success in surgery. He didn't want to burden her more with his problems, especially not tonight. Tonight was for Cristina. He took their hands out of her pocket, stood up, and pulled her up off the bench so she was standing in front of him. He raised their intertwined hands and kissed hers.
"Come on. Let's go check on Dr. Stevens, and then we'll go get something to eat. You must be starving by now." He began walking with her back towards the doorway. "You can tell me all about your surgery."
Cristina smiled. "I rocked it," she said, the joy evident in her voice. "It was perfect. I couldn't have asked for anything more perfect."
Owen smiled back at her and they reentered the building. That's exactly what I was thinking, he said to himself, watching her. I couldn't have asked for anything more perfect.
