A/N: first time attempting to write Owen/Cristina. Short, I know, but it would be great if you could let me know whether or not this seems like them!
Owen is not working tonight, he's not even on call, he just never got around to going home.
He has always spent Christmas Eve with his unit, or his family, but one is gone and the other? They try, but they don't understand and he doesn't hold it against them, but it's hard watching them struggle to fit his new state of mind into their old reality and staying away seemed preferable this year.
Cristina, on the other hand, is working and as the night draws on he realizes that she was his reason for staying. It comes in fits and starts, this connection they have, according to mood, the relative weight of each other's sadness, workload and opportunity.
When midnight comes, he brings her a cup of coffee. She raises an eyebrow and hesitates before accepting. He gets that there's some significance in this act for her, he doesn't draw attention to it, he just holds out the cup until she's ready. He can wait. He doesn't need to know. And only a few seconds elapse before she wins whatever personal battle she was fighting and takes it and takes a sip.
"You celebrate Christmas?" he asks.
"I'm Jewish," she says. He can tell that she's used to saying this abrasively, but the harshness vies with a softer inflection that has nothing to do with the words she's speaking and everything to do with him. The softness just about gets the upper hand.
"Me either." He pulls back a little to scan her face. "What time does your shift finish?"
Her eyes seek out the time. "Now."
He smiles as a thought occurs to him. "You celebrate 'Now?'" he asks.
"I could," she says, almost smiling back.
"Me too," he says.
The eyebrow is raised again, but it's superimposed over anticipation. "So what's traditional when you're celebrating 'Now?'"
He shrugs. "Whatever you want," he says. "No rules." His eyes lock with hers. He tries to keep it light. It never quite is with them, but they know each other's stories, they get each other's grief. It's under the surface and it's accepted. And now is not the time for all that. "We could start by getting out of here."
"Now?" she asks. Her smile has reached her eyes.
"Now," he says. It's a good place to be and it's good to be there with her.