There Are No Words

By greyeyedgirl Cristina/Burke Grey's Anatomy POV fanfiction

Rating: This is actually pretty tame.

Author's Note: Sorry, I couldn't resist doing a POV fic on that scene, I can't help it, I'm completely obsessed. :-) It was just so sweet, and they didn't have to say a thing. (Hence the title-There Are No Words) Sort of drabble fic really, but I hope you enjoy.

Summary: C and B's POV on the silent but sweet final scene between them in "Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer" (Episode 2x12) Read, review, enjoy.

First part-Cristina's point of view, since I did Burke's POV first for my one of my other C/B fics, "Listen to Your Heart."

Justin's fever was down. It was actually down. He was starting to recover. Could it possibly, possibly have anything to do with me talking to him? If it was, then I had to rethink everything I'd 'figured out' about medicine. How could Burke be right? A spiritual and medical connection? WTF?

A scene from Patch Adams, based on a true story, passed through my mind, but I shoved it determinedly out of it as I pulled my key from the pocket of my coat. So Burke was right. Big deal. When wasn't he? He was right, and I was wrong, and that was just what Was. A mean, sarcastic thought passed through my head, but I pushed that away too. So I had to get used to being wrong all the time instead of being right. Whatever. I didn't have to make a big deal out of it.

The door to the apartment pushed open, and I walked into the room, tired and brimming with my thoughts. I hated how my thoughts did that to me sometimes. Just started spinning and firing, like a TV with a broken remote that won't stay on one channel. That's why surgery was so great. In an OR, I could think.

My thoughts paused for a moment, as a smell reached my senses. Was that pine? My eyes lit on the Christmas tree, lights twinkling away. My eyes drifted over to the Menorah, lit and glowing bright through the darkness. A small smile toyed on my lips, but I managed to supress it. So Burke really wanted to celebrate the holidays? Fine. Fine.

I didn't have to make a big deal out of it.

I knew Burke had to be home, since he'd decorated the tree and got the Menorah. I didn't see him in any of the rooms though, and the apartment seemed dark. I walked silently towards the bedroom, peeking my head around the corner. Burke's back was turned towards me as he was rummaging through a drawer, pulling out a bookmark. I slipped down the hall, finding the little pile where I'd stuck some of my clothes. I grabbed a pair of pajamas, my favorite ones I'd had since high school. I'd worn them my first night at both college and med school. The material was softer than it looked, and always felt warm and comforting. I took them into the bathroom with me, where I changed into them, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I put my hair into a ponytail. I looked tired. I always hated it when I looked like I did now, so exhausted my eyes looked almost tearful. I sighed, grabbing a container of cleanser and scrubbing my face, picking up the toothbrush I'd conveniently forgot to bring back to my own apartment. It was weird, but I had a thing for brushing my teeth. My real father was a dentist, and I suppose I got it from him. I loved the strength of flavor that hit me when the toothpaste slipped against my tongue, and just seeing the sparkling and cleanliness of my teeth when I was done. It was the only part of me that was even remotely naturally loving of things that were clean. I always noticed people's teeth. Burke had great ones.

I turned off the water and wiped my face, inhaling deeply as my breathing turned into a yawn. I set my clothes resignedly in the hamper, knowing if I didn't I'd just awaken to see them there anyway. I knew Burke couldn't help keeping things orderly, just as I couldn't really help leaving things all over the place. When I was little, and I still loved dance, I'd tell people it was just my creativity releasing itself. It'd always made my best friend at the time, Michelle, laugh.

I padded down the hall, feeling my heart beat in what seemed like synchronization with the tapping of my bare feet against the carpet. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar, and it seemed like a metaphor for Burke and mine's relationship-neither of us could really open up all the way, but both of us were still timidly showing ourselves to each other, hoping the other would take the initiative to be able to swing the door open. A smile lit up my face, and I opened the door all the way, running into the room and hopping into bed. Burke's head was buried in his book, and I rather felt the emotion stirring inside him, instead of ceremoniously inspecting his features. I felt an unexpected rush shimmer through me, and I felt a tear brimming, startling me. I reached my hand up and pulled the scrunchie out, shaking my hair around to get it loose. I still wasn't used to feeling a million different emotions all at once, with each one hurdling towards me like a rush of bullets. "Justin's fever's down," I hear myself say. I'm not sure why I did say it, it just seemed important. Not in a "duh,-Burke's-his-doctor,-he-needs-to-know-these-things," sort of way, but in a "oh,-my-god,-I-may-have-totally-messed-things-up-with-my-boyfriend-and-need-to-make-things-right-somehow" way. But how could I make things right again?

"I wonder why that is."

"I don't know." Could he possibly know what I had done? I shivered. Burke had an uncanny way of just Knowing some things.

I laid my head against Burke's chest, my hair resting against the side of his face. How could I feel so many things all at once? Peace, happiness...love, even? But also turmoil and fear and...what was it, even? What was it that I was feeling?

My eyes fell on the book Burke was reading, and with a jolt I realized it was a book on Judaism. What had I done, exactly, to be able to get this guy to even remotely like me? What had I done to deserve even getting to know this guy? Getting to see his face every morning?

And what if I wasn't continuing to do it?

Burke closed his book, slipping a bookmark in between two pages. He leaned over and shut off a lamp that was nearby, before leaning down to kiss my forehead lightly. I closed my eyes, as Burke's arms wrapped around me.

"Good night, Cristina." I shivered at how my name sounded in his voice.

"G'night, Burke."