Hey guys, another Cristina-Owen update from me - a smutty one. It's a one-shot for now, but might become a two-shot.
I don't know how you feel, but I can't stand the current Owen-Emma storyline but writing this made me feel better, I hope I can make you feel better, too.

The almost last time

"How are you?" Cristina asks taking a deep breath.

"Ah, fabulous…" Owen sighs sarcastically.

"Yeah…" She agrees not knowing if he means the long day and night they had so far or their kind of break-up. He leans against the counter and a small smile creeps on his face. Cristina looks up from her chart and catches him smiling.

"What?"

"Nothing." He quickly glances down onto his charts. But Cristina knows him too well, knows there is something.

"What?" She repeats.

"Just…" He looks up, releases a small laugh and gulps as Cristina focuses on her charts again. "I wish, I'd known it was gonna be the last time you and I were together." Cristina raises her gaze again, lifting her eyebrows. Is he talking about sex?

"I would have done… things… a little different." He admits nonchalantly. Oh yes, he most certainly is.

"Wa- was the last time bad?" She enquires incredulously as he glides a little closer to her.

"No, the last time was Wednesday, when we knocked down that plate off the counter and I spend half the night pulling glass out of…" He says in a low voice.

"That was not the last time!" Cristina interrupts him rolling her eyes.

"Yap."

"It was?"

"Mhm… none of our best work." He says in a flirty tone and shakes his head. Wow, we just broke up and now he's flirting with me?

"That's awful." She agrees.

"And after the kinda run we had…" He continues, she turns to look at him. Is he implying we should do it again? "It's just a shame." He says giving her a longing side-glance letting his eyes trail over her body from head to toe and back again. Oh yes, he definitely is.

"Shameful." She agrees and turns facing him with her whole body, taking in the view of the man, who was her man the last five years.

"Maybe…" She begins but falls silent again. This is stupid! The reasonable part of her mind tells her.

"Maybe?" He whispers now standing very close to her.

"We could… we should…" She whispers almost soundless her eyes trailing slowly up to his eyes lingering on his lips a few seconds too long.

"I think we should." He says hoarsely. "Don't you?"

"Yes." They can't suppress a smile, turn around and head to their standard on-call room. On their way Cristina does her hair up so it wouldn't bother her and enters as the first. Owen takes a look around before he follows her making sure it isn't too obvious to the whole hospital what they are up to and closes the door behind him turning the key around. He loses not one second with hesitation but drags Cristina close to him, turns around with her and pushes her against the door.

Cristina feels his lips upon hers, his tongue seductively caressing and grazing her lips waiting for permission to enter her mouth. His hands are in her hair – probably ruining it – on her neck, on her shoulders shoving down her lab coat, on her breasts lightly passing over them leaving shivers behind, around her waist, finding their way beneath her scrub top – one hand pushing it up feeling her warm silky skin, the other hand wandering down, caressing her inner thighs.

Cristina's hands glide up into Owen's hair, tugging on it, letting it curl around her fingers. She strokes his cheek, pulls him even closer pushing at the back of his neck, she passes her hands over his chest and to his back reaching lower, cupping his butt with her hands she pushes his hardening groin against her.

Caged between the door in her back and his solid body pressed against her front Cristina finally permits him to enter her mouth with his tongue welcoming him in with hers. With open mouths they tickle and tease the other's tongue before melting into one, moving sensuously.

She brushes off his lab coat, he tugs on the hem of her scrub top and breaks the kiss to strip it off and she helps him getting out of his. Panting they look at each other – knowing this is wrong, but also knowing this is so damn right. With a butterfly light touch he caresses the sides of her waist letting his hands trail up while she tries to touch every spot of exposed skin desperately wanting to memorize the feel underneath her fingertip of every inch of his body.

He leans his forehead against hers and breathes in deeply, his fingers play with the hem of her shirt and slowly lift it up. After pressing a telling kiss to her lips he takes her shirt off. Cristina watches him taking in the view, he lightly strokes the sensitive skin between her breasts. The blue of his eyes is darkened with desire, love and desperateness.

"Owen…" Cristina feels the need to say something, to explain something but she really doesn't know what, how and why. Everything inside her just craves to hold him, to hide her face at his chest, to let their bare skins touch and to never let him go. But Owen shakes his head, caressing her cheek.

"You don't need to say anything." He whispers and reaches around her back to drag her close and lets their lips connect again like they used to do the past five years, fitting perfectly. Cristina reaches between them to untie his scrub pants. He mimics her moves and unties hers. Simultaneously they kick of their shoes without losing touch of the other's lips.

Owen walks her backwards to the bed – now only dressed in their underwear – and lets her lay down on it kissing her all the way. She presses herself up against him holding onto his neck. Pressed against her upper thigh she feels his very familiar hardened length that she longs for to feel inside of her.

He softly moans because of the friction and she rediscovers in that very second how much she loves that sound. He never was a really loud one while making love – she is, but not Owen. He always was the one to make her scream and silently enjoy it, but there were some times and some moments when he would make a little or a little more noise. Like when he knows nobody can hear them, or when he is very emotional – like on their wedding night, or the day of Bailey's wedding when they reconciled (again) in that on-call room.

Or like today wanting to relish every second, every touch.

As he holds her face in his hands she can see his love for her written all over his face, in his eyes, in the way his lips curl up to the idea of a smile, in the way he softly caresses her cheek again. He lets his gaze trail over every part of her face, the most important one in his life for the last five years. He dreamed about her often, when they were apart he was filled with longing and when they were together he would wake up feeling happy he had her in his life. And now that they are about to part, to go separate ways, he was sure he won't stop dreaming of her and longing for her for a very long time, if he will ever stop.

He softly shakes his head, stunned by her beauty and by the effect she still has on him and won't stop having.

"Cristina…" He starts but she silences him putting two fingers onto his mouth.

"You don't need to say anything." She repeats what he told her before. Instead he leans down and buries his face at her neck kissing it. Slowly he makes his way down caressing the soft flesh between her breasts with his lips and tongue. But shortly after he lifts himself up again to watch her face while one of his hands trails down teasing the hot flesh of her upper thigh lightly grazing the fabric of her underwear feeling the hot wetness. She buckles her hips and moans.

Hearing that sound of her everything becomes more heated and fierier. He crashes down on her kissing her senseless. She wraps her arms and legs around him wanting to touch as much as possible at once. Again his hands are everywhere: He reaches under her and with a swift move unclasps her bra, trails along her arms, holds her hand, messes up her hair, massages the back of her neck, lightly squeezes one of her nipples, trails down her flat stomach and tenderly stroke her clit – all the while making her lose her senses one more time, kissing her until she couldn't think anything straight.

He kisses his way down to her center taking her bra with him exposing her breasts. He takes off her lacy underwear and is up to do, what he knows will drive her crazy: Sensuously he kisses and licks and sucks at her clit bathing his tongue in her juice. Cristina leans back and closes her eyes and moans and pants and sighs and squirms and screams and… comes. He just knows her too well, knows every spot, and they made love too often to make a wrong move.

With kisses he makes his way up to her face again leaving a wet trail behind and watches her still panting.

"You are beautiful." He says and a small smiles creeps up her face. She pulls him down to him to kiss her every emotion into him and with her feet she carefully drags his boxer briefs down and reaches for him with her hand, softly stroking his tip and full length. He moans loudly into her mouth but stops her as she speeds up and positions himself at her entrance.

With only inches between their faces he enters her and they save the moment for later memory with locking their gazes and the whole time while making love they never lose that eye contact. He begins to move and all they see is the other's eyes, he cups her breasts, he quickens the pace, he moans and groans and fists his hands in her hair while looking into that warm brown of her eyes.

She squirms and undulates and clenches her walls tightly around him, she pants and moans and softly screams staring into the blue ocean of his eyes that never seemed to be cold but warm and inviting to take a swim in it. She buries her fingernails in his back and as she climaxes again she feels like the whole room turned into that blue ocean. And then, hearing him getting louder and louder, hearing him call her name over and over, she finally sees his orgasm in his eyes as he spills himself inside of her.

"I love you, Owen." She knows, it is cruel to say it right then, but he anyway knows it and what they just did should prove it as well and Cristina has never felt so comfortable saying 'I love you' to anybody like she is with Owen and she wanted to say it just one last time.

"I love you, Cristina." He answers gravely.

They calm down and finally break the visual contact to share another passionate kiss getting more desperate knowing it was over and they have to part soon. So they just prolong and prolong that kiss until there really is no air left in their lungs and they have to break apart.

"I think we…" Owen begins after he collected enough air in his lungs again.

"Yeah" Cristina agrees and they both get up and dress again.

Standing awkwardly in front of each other after they dressed they both don't know what to say or what to do, not knowing how to act with the other if you're supposed to be just friends.

"Okay then…" Cristina stammers.

"We'll see." Owen continues her sentence.

"Definitely." Together they exit the room and walk away in different directions.