A/N: Short little oneshot. I own nothing. To be honest, I was pulling a blank for my PP fic and thought of this. Hope you all enjoy! Please review!
It had been a long, long time since Preston Burke had been in Seattle, and an even longer time since he had sat down in Joe's bar. Tonight, though, he was in Seattle, and despite his inner protests, he was at Joe's.
As an even more successful cardio-thoracic surgeon now than what he had been even when he left Seattle Grace, Burke was currently working in Chicago, Illinois. When he had been called to Seattle Presbyterian for a high profile case, he had promised himself that he would avoid Seattle Grace at all cost. He wasn't willing to face the life he had left behind, nor as he willing to subject himself to knowing where Cristina's life had led her.
That promise had been broken when the knowledge that Seattle Grace was no longer Seattle Grace had come to him. Seattle Grace-Mercy West. It sounded so foreign; so wrong in every way.
Burke was happy to be gone. He was happy to have left his ghosts behind.
A young bartender, not Joe, came over to take his order. "Just beer, from the tap," he demanded. He wasn't there to get drunk. He was there to reminisce, really. To look back at where he could have been, who he could have become.
A broad-shouldered redhead took the seat next to him, placed his order, and stared into the near distance. The man held a look that Burke had seen many times - on the faces of doctors, soldiers, fighters. At one point, he himself had probably held that look. The look of a defeated being.
"Rough day?" Blue eyes suddenly shot to the voice on his right, and Owen took in the owner of it - dark skinned and tall, even while sitting.
An audible sigh escaped his lips, "Is it that obvious?" A humorless chuckle followed, as Owen wondered if he really was that transparent.
"I would tell you 'no', but I'd be lying." The stranger's words were carefully articulated. He had the voice of a teacher - maybe a professor.
"Thanks," Owen replied.
The two men sat in silence for a long time after that. The seconds and minutes and hours ticked by, both simply reflecting on their lives current and passed. Owen drank, but Preston restrained himself.
If only they had been able to read each other's thoughts - they would have seen the same woman.