Colin Marlow, world renowned surgeon sat at the bar nursing his gin and tonic. He'd flown into New York last night for a yearly medical conference, focusing in cardiothoracic surgery. Tomorrow he'd speak on his Marlow transplant, as he did wherever he went. He was considered a pioneer of the medical profession, which is probably the contributor to his arrogant behavior. Taking another sip, he prepared himself for his speech. He'd done this dozens of times; it was like driving to him now. Another boring speech, another monotonous conference, he thought to himself. Throwing a twenty towards the bartender he reached for his coat, deciding to call it a night. Just then the door opened, and a tall dark skinned man walked in.
Preston Burke walked into the dimly lit hotel bar, hanging his coat over his arm. Nodding towards the bartender, he slid unto a stool. "Preston Burke," an accented voice echoed from behind him. Internally cringing, Preston slowly turned to respond. "Colin," he extended his hand, shaking it warmly. He hadn't changed at all. He still stood with an arrogant stance, his eyes slightly downcast. "It's been quite a long time Preston," Colin smiled, taking a seat. Nodding, Preston reached for his drink taking a long sip. "It has," he sighed. Seeing Colin again caused a flood of memories to come back. Seattle Grace, Cristina, the wedding. Finishing off his drink, he motioned for another one. The sudden influx of haunting thoughts was giving him a migraine.
As Colin watched Burke down his drink quickly, he sensed his discomfort. The bastard in himself was strangely happy that he still felt unnerved by his presence. It was surprising seeing he and Cristina were married, obviously he was no longer a threat. None the less, it was entertaining. Taking notice of the wedding ring on his hand, he was bitterly reminded that he'd lost. He'd lost her. Not someone who was good at small talk, he decided to beat around the bush. "So," he began, gaining Preston's attention. "How is she, how is Cristina?" he asked.
Preston's stomach dropped, his eyes went wide. He hadn't heard, how could he not have heard? Colin Marlow may be a medical genius, but he also gossiped like a fifteen year old girl. He knew everything about everyone, especially everything about Cristina. Avoiding the question, Preston sighed quietly and removed his glasses from their perch on his nose. Out of habit and nervous tick, he breathed on them then rubbed them on the corner of his shirt. "Uh Cristina," he started, grasping to find the correct words. "We're uh, we're not together," he finally muttered. The look on Colin's face ranged from pure surprised to unadulterated glee.
"You're not together?" Colin asked, incredulous. Preston nodded, averting his eyes. Colin tried to organize his thoughts, attempted to bite his tongue. He knew he shouldn't ask what happened; it really wasn't any of his business. Though there was only one other person who could tell him everything, and she wasn't exactly the sharing type. She was also on the other side of the country finishing off her residency. "But the ring? What exactly happened?" He asked, morbidly curious.
An uncomfortable look spread across Preston's face, as he considered whether or not to answer Colin's question. The ring was from his marriage, the one that had just ended about six months ago. After leaving Cristina at the altar, he'd taken some time away. Moved out to Boston, took an attending position at Mass Gen. He'd dated a few women, but nothing serious until he met Cora. She was nothing like Cristina, and he liked that. It was easier, Cora was warm and maternal. She wanted a family, and she wanted to be a wife. Sure he loved her, but there wasn't the same passion he had with Cristina. They pretended until they couldn't anymore. "The uh ring's from my marriage, that recently ended. It's just out of habit, wearing it," he murmured, clearly uncomfortable. "As for Cristina and I, we never did get married. There were circumstances.." he trailed off, losing steam.
"You never got married?" Colin clarified, trying to keep composure. He really thought they'd make it. When Cristina was with him, she acted different. She wasn't his Cristina anymore, and however upsetting it was, he'd accepted it. When he'd left Seattle Grace, he had no intention of reaching out to her again. Why would he, she was Burke's Cristina. Correction, used to be Burke's Cristina. "You never got married," he repeated, the shock wearing off.
"No, we never did," Burke answered, a twinge of annoyance resounding in his voice. Burke thought to Cristina's face as he walked out of the church, leaving her. He remembered the discussion he had with his mother, after she'd met with her. A small ache plagued his chest, it was harder to breathe. All this talking was digging up feelings, feelings he'd thought he'd suppressed long ago. Preston reached for another drink, he needed it. He was about to continue when Colin suddenly stood up.
"I'm sorry to hear about you and Cristina," he apologized, surprisingly sincere. Extending his hand, he shook it goodbye. "I've got an early morning tomorrow, I'm going to head out," Colin slid his arms into his coat, and grabbed his briefcase. "I'll see you tomorrow, at your speech," Preston smiled slightly, waving goodbye.
Colin quickly exited the bar, and anxiously awaited the elevator. Fingers rapping against the wall, he tapped his foot. Stepping into the awaiting elevator, he pushed the top floor button and waited as he ascended towards his room. Unlocking the door, he moved to his computer his fingers typing furiously. Usually a very calm person, Colin was greatly surprised by how Cristina Yang still had a hold on him. Dialing the number off the screen into his phone, he brought it to his ear.
"Yes, hello. I'd like one ticket for tomorrow evening, yes. The destination? Seattle Washington please," he ordered, before hanging up the phone. Though he wasn't a rash person, he'd always been a little undone by Cristina Yang. He was going to find out what really happened, he'd get her to talk.