Mark Sloan walked toward the Nurses Station carrying two coffees, "Well if it isn't my favorite dirty mistress," he smirked flashing a smile.
Meredith approached him, tying her scrubs, "Adulterous Whore," she corrected. "Couldn't get Alex to run your errands for you?"
Mark ignored her comment, "I have a facial reconstruction surgery in twenty minutes, figured I'd need the energy."
Meredith's eyes widened, "A reconstructive surgery? Can I scrub in?" She said getting antsy.
"Yang's scrubbing in."
Meredith sighed in disappointment as her pager went off, "Great, back to the pit," she mumbled walking off.
Mark smirked and approached Cristina who was arguing with a nurse over a patient's diagnosis. "Here," he offered setting the coffee down on the counter.
Cristina Yang put down her clipboard and stared at the cup placed in front of her. As she eyed it, a crease began to form on the bridge of her nose, "What is this for?"
"To drink," he answered moving the coffee closer to her, "Figured you could use it Yang, we're in for a long night," he answered walking away from the nurses' station.
Cristina stared at the coffee for a moment before grabbing her clipboard and following Sloan down the hall, "Don't buy me coffee," she snapped meeting him at the elevator door.
Mark cocked his head in amusement as he looked down at the disgruntled resident. "It's just coffee."
Cristina jabbed his chest with her finger, "You men always think it's 'just coffee' but it never is. I know, trust me, I've had coffee" she continued running her fingers through her thick curly locks, "And," she paused looking him up and down, "I'm not having anymore."
Mark stared at her and tried his best not to laugh. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, especially a woman like Cristina Yang. Grinning, he waited for her to continue, finding her erratic behavior, strangely appealing.
Cristina heaved her chest and stared at the doctor, "Stop giving me that look," She answered irritably.
"What look?" Mark smirked.
"That McSteamy look. Your charm may work on Olivia and the other nurses, but it won't work on me. Got it?" She answered sharply walking back to the deck.
Mark nodded smugly, keeping his gaze on her. Frustrated, Cristina rolled her eyes and turned away from him. Grinning, Mark sipped his coffee as entered the elevator, "See you in surgery," he called out as the doors shut.
Cursing under her breath, Cristina grabbed her charts and let out a long sigh. She hadn't expected to have such a strong ridiculous reaction, but it was too late to apologize, and she refused to grovel to Sloan of all people. After all, she was Cristina Yang. A strong and steady surgeon. Not the distressed, rattled lunatic that reared its ugly head a moment ago.
Groaning, she grabbed the coffee and dumped it in the trash with disdain. Preston Burke may have left Seattle Grace, but he was still in the forefront of her mind. Coffee,she thought miserably, was to her what Ferryboats were to Meredith.
Dumb and painful reminders.