Christina's bike was everything she was - sleek, efficient, dark, sexy and dangerous. She had bought it in a streak of independence from and defiance to her mother, and kept it because of the way she personified it, of the way she and it complemented each other so perfectly.
Besides, she was Christina Yang: she didn't come home on the back of a leather-clad, chain-smoking boyfriend's motercycle, she was the one on the bike.
And sometimes she thought that maybe Meredith should hop on with her, that maybe she suited a bike as well as Christina herself did.
But then McDreamy walked into the room and everything dark and cold about her person melted away.
Nah, Christina thought with a snort..... Merideth is just too damn McMushy. Way too damn McMushy. She needed to go for a ride.
Hope you enjoyed that quick little character study. It was written quite a while ago and was originally part of a series of independent chapters that I've broken apart; I wasn't very pleased with the way it came together last run. Ciao for now, Moksgmol