JANUARY 13th – Seattle Grace Hospital

"Time of death: 14:28," Cristina sighed, leaning back on the radiator and closing her eyes as the nurses and interns around her turned off the child's heart monitor and Bailey walked out of the room to give the bad news to the little boy's parents.

"I really appreciate you helping me out, Cristina," Arizona said timidly, starting to disconnect numerous wires and tubes from the toddler's body. "I know you hate ped, but you're the best cardio surgeon at Seattle Grace, and Todd, well… his little heart was growing too big for just me to handle." Cristina glanced at the lifeless body of Todd, her newest patient born with a disorder causing his heart to grow at a rate ten times faster than the rest of his body. Even with her extensive knowledge of the heart, by the time she was on his case he was too far gone.

"It's fine. Just doing my job, I guess." Cristina looked out the glass windows surrounding the room to where Bailey was talking to Todd's parents, and saw the mother collapse into her husband's arms, her shoulders convulsing with sobs. "I can't imagine someone telling me that, so abruptly. It must be horrible," she stated.

"Would you ever have kids? I mean, I know about what happened with you and Burke, and I don't know if you're, you know, physically able to or not, but I know you're with Owen, and…" Cristina smiled weakly at Arizona to cut her off. Sometimes the pediatric surgeon was too eager for her to handle.

"Owen never really seemed keen on the idea, to tell you the truth," she said, rubbing her temples to ease her pounding headache. "Before Addison left for California, I had her check me out, just for… future purposes. She said I was fully able to have a child," Cristina said, helping Arizona clean up the room. "I've always pictured myself with my own baby in my arms," she added almost inaudibly.

As soon as the words emerged from her full lips, Cristina realized that she meant it. She knew she could never bring up the delicate topic with someone as rough as Owen, but perhaps there was some way to tiptoe around the topic. He had lost so much while at war, and she didn't want to risk losing their baby, but there had to be some way to start a family with the man she loved. She walked from the room and headed down towards the pit.

"Your arm isn't broken too badly, sweetheart," Owen cooed to the 5-year-old girl he was treating in the pit. "I'll just have the bone doctor come over and take a look." As much as he hated dumbing down his tone to a level that toddlers would understand, the little girl's eyes made his heart long for something he couldn't bear to discuss.

"Hairline fracture," Callie said brusquely, walking back over to the exam table with the girl's x-rays in her hand. "Just get an intern to wrap some plaster on her and off she goes." Callie took a double-take at Owen's insulted expression and raised an eyebrow in question.

"I know I may not seem like the most caring person in this hospital, and this might not be the most exciting case, but this girl's scared out of her mind. And she's fine. Give her a smile, at least," he half laughed. Callie stuck a fake grin on her face before grabbing the girl's chart out of Owen's hands, scanning it quickly for her name and other health issues.

"Have you ever thought about having kids with Cristina?" Callie asked, closing the grey binder and pushing a stray piece of ebony hair behind her pierced ear. "Or marrying her? Sorry. This is probably a rude conversation," she said, playing with the hem of her lab coat.

"Rude, maybe. But yes. I have thought about it, a lot. I've always wanted children, and since the moment I first saw Cristina I knew I wanted her to be the mother of them," he said, watching a second-year intern walk over to the toddler with plaster in hand. "But with all her… preexisting health problems" – referring to her ectopic pregnancy with Preston Burke a few years back – "I don't know if she'll be able to do it. Hell, I don't even know if she wants children," Owen sighed. "It would be wonderful, though."

"Dude, this isn't brain surgery, which you've gotten quite good at," Callie laughed, making a few notes on the girl's chart. "Just ask the girl. You love her, I know you do. And she loves you a lot." The orthopedic surgeon shrugged and ambled off towards the nurses' station, where Mark Sloan was leaning against and eyeing her suggestively.

Owen glanced in the hallway leading to the OR board, and saw his girlfriend of nearly two years saunter through confidently. Her tangle of dark curls that he loved so much were pinned back into a bun, loose pieces falling gently around her face, and the placid swaying motion her hips made as she walked would turn Owen wild – if he weren't being engulfed in the smell of medical supplies and blood. His heart all but stopped as Cristina grabbed Owen by his strong wrist, pulling him with her in the direction of the nearest on-call room.

"What are you –" Owen was cut off as Cristina pushed him into the room, locking the door behind them.

"I have to go to surgery, but I wanted to do this first…" Her voice trailed off as she softly pressed her lips to his, pulling his body closer to hers by his waist. His big hands traced slowly up her sides, caressing her thin waist with his calloused hands, feeling her shiver before she pulled away hastily.

"You can't tease me like this," Owen murmured, running his fingers gently down Cristina's neck and grazing the v-neck of her scrub top, making her shiver again.

"Seems as if I just did," she said, pressing her lips to her boyfriend's muscular neck and letting them linger a little longer than she intended, before unlocking the door and walking back towards the surgical wing, leaving Owen in a state of hot confusion.