A/N: I'm not sure how everyone will take to this, but I'm excited about the storyline. Owen and Charlotte would make a very hot couple, I think, and I'm about to find out. By the way (as if you didn't already know this) I own nothing. It all belongs to Shonda Rhimes.

It had been two months since Cristina had told him that they were over, served him with divorce papers, and left Seattle. Apparently she had been offered a job in New Jersey, and had taken it. She was gone, their marriage was over, and everything around Owen was changing.

Lying awake in an on-call room bed, he spun the smooth piece of gold metal around his ring finger. That was all it was: a piece of solid gold metal. It no longer meant anything to him. He couldn't allow it to. After sixty-seven days of fighting himself, he finally tugged the ring from his finger, holding it in the palm of his hand in the darkness. It was cold, as was the love it had formerly symbolized. The day she left replayed vividly and consecutively in his mind ten hundred times a day. This, he was sure, was worse than the physical pains he had endured on the battlefield.

"You can't just walk away from a marriage, Cristina! It's not surgery; there isn't someone else waiting with scalpel in hand to take your place."

"Yes, I can, and I am. Nothing you say or do will stop me now. It's over. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

He knew that his attempts were useless. He knew that she was leaving no matter what he told her or did. Maybe the fact that he knew she was leaving anyway was what made him want to fight so hard. He couldn't change her mind.

When Cristina looked up, Owen was giving her those adorable puppy dog eyes. She knew that she couldn't leave him without at least giving him some sort of explanation. "You need me to be somebody that I can't be. You need to change me, and so you try to change me without even realizing it. I can't change. I don't want to. So let go - for your own good."

Careful with his words, as he always was, Owen was on the edge of begging, "The woman I love leaving won't do me any good. Don't you see that? We can get through this together."

"That's just it, Owen. I don't want to."

She had packed her things and left. Sixty-seven days ago, Cristina had left and she wasn't coming back. At first he had believed that she would. He had truly believed that she would be back. Now he knew better. He was finished with trying to convince himself otherwise.

The door opened, allowing light to spill in from the outer world of the hospital. His quiet was invaded for a moment until Callie closed the door was again. She flicked on the light, causing him to blink in a search for adjustment.

The look on her face told him that she wasn't here about a patient. She was bothering him for personal reasons, which struck a cord of annoyance within him. Just because they were friends didn't entitle her to the right to invade his loneliness.

"There's a new attending pediatric surgeon. She's blond. She has a southern accent, and she's bossy. Mean." Torres took a seat at the end of his bed, her arms crossed and a pout displayed on her lips.

Owen sat up, bringing his knees to his chest, "How can a pediatric surgeon be mean? She has to deal with kids. Kids will break down in tears for no reason whatsoever. Imagine how they'd deal with a mean doctor."

"I didn't say she was mean to kids. She's mean to interns, residents . . . other attendings. You should have seen how she just told off Shepherd."

He actually found amusement in that, "Shepherd got told off?" His eyes were wide, a smirk teasing his lips.

"You should've seen the look on his face. And Meredith stood by in shock. It was quite the seen."

"The Chief won't fire her." Standing, Owen slipped on his Nike running shoes without untying them.

"Why not?" Callie seemed taken aback, as if she had been wishing that the new surgeon would immediately be escorted from the premises.

"Because we need her. Robbins quit and whats-his-face was fired. We're running out of options."

Tightening his scrub pants, he glanced down at his watch. It was really no wonder that he was starving. After his surgery ended shortly after ten, he'd removed himself from any signs of life without eating lunch. It was now four in the afternoon. Skipping breakfast probably hadn't been any help.

"Where are you going?" she asked him, obviously wishing that she would stay and be his confidante.

"To eat," he answered, moving for the door. He really did hate to cut his conversation with Callie short. Over the last two months, they had become good friends. With Arizona leaving for Africa and Cristina leaving for New Jersey, they had something in common. And it wasn't one of those stupid little things like they both purchased their underwear at the same clothing store. Having the person you love leaving is pretty significant.

With one hand on the doorknob, as an almost afterthought, Owen dug into his shirt pocket for the ring that he had slyly dropped in before. As always, the temperature of it caught him off guard - as cold as ice. "Catch," he told her, and tossed it across the small room.

A question took over her expression, "What the hell do you want me to do with this?"

"Get rid of it. I don't care, just make sure I never see it again."

With that, he was gone. To eat.

Just as Owen was about to sit down, his pager went berserk. It was an emergency, and obviously he was needed quickly. Reluctantly leaving his food after a single bite, he rushed down to the pit where chaos engulfed him.

"Dr. Hunt!"

"Hunt!"

"Owen!"

People were shouting at him from all directions, but he saw the problem without their help. In the middle of his workspace there sat two stretchers with medical personnel surrounding them. It wasn't the simplicity of that situation that astounded him and stopped him in his tracks, though. It was what lie on the stretchers. They each held the body of a child. Or, more precisely, the remaining heap of the body of a child.

Snatching the chart of the one on the right, he quickly read over it but didn't catch much. His mind wasn't working properly. "What happened here? Someone fill me in."

He didn't even register who's voice was coming at him, "Kids got into an argument halfway up the Ferris wheel. One tumbled out and took the other one down with him. Both have sustained severe injuries. Broken bones, internal bleeding. Everything you can think of."

"Oh. Wonderful." Owen turned to the second child and grabbed the boy's chart, glancing over it. "Alright. Get Torres down here, now! And the new pediatric attending. I'm going to need lots of hands."

As he exited the operating room two hours later, Owen dragged a hand across his rough jaw, pulling off his green scrub cap. The first boy hadn't managed the fight for life for more than twenty minutes, so all hands had been redirected to the second boy: Samuel Briar.

The boy was still alive, and still needed exhilarating amounts of surgery.

And Owen was still starving.

Collapsing against the wall, he hung his hand between his knees, fighting a headache. There was a tap on his shoulder, and he looked up to see the new pediatric surgeon. King was her name.

"If you ever tell me what to do in my OR again, I'll feed you your own testicles. Are we clear?"

In shock, Owen stood, raising a brow. "Excuse me? I believe that was my OR you were in. You're completely out of line."

The woman looked taken aback, as if nobody ever questioned her. "I may be new to this specialty, but I'm not new to medicine. I'm not out of line, doctor. I believe you need to reevaluate the situation."

The small blond was something fierce. A force to be reckoned with.

"If we would have done things your way, that boy would be dead. When I say we do things dirty and clean up later, that's how we do it. Are we clear?" He was mocking her, but not out of spite. She was new, and she needed to understand her place.

"What's your name?"

"You haven't earned the right to know. Now, I'll have my resident follow up on Samuel when he wakes up. Until I need your help, stay away from my patient."

Okay, technically, Samuel wasn't Owen's patient. He was their patient. But if the new girl wanted to play dirty, so be it. He wasn't in the mood for stuck up know-it-alls.

Nodding his head, Owen left for the cafeteria. He needed food and Advil.

A/N: I know that right now you don't know much about why Charlotte is in Seattle or how she got into pediatric surgery, but the next chapter will be from her perspective. I hope everyone enjoyed, and please review! As a side note, I'm posting this in Grey's as opposed to crossover because it does take place solely at Seattle Grace-Mercy West Hospital.