Title: Dearly Beloved
Pairing: Cristina Yang/Owen Hunt
Rating: Eventual M, this is just T
Summary: AU from 'Flood' episode (5.03?) Cristina is taking a page from McSteamy's book and turning over a new leaf. No more brooding over men (cough Burke) and she is devoting herself to perfecting her surgical techniques in a broader spectrum. Unfortunately Fate, and Army Guy, have other plans for her.
Disclaimer: If I owned any part of Grey's Anatomy, I wouldn't be buying knockoffs. I can only take credit for my lame witisisms and devious imagination. Feedback makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, especially when it's constructive!
"Dearly beloved, we gather here today to celebrate the end of Cristina Minh Yang and Preston Andrew Burke. Rest in pieces, you acclaim hoarding jerk." She said to the empty walls and bare floors of Burke's apartment. All her meager belongings were sitting in boxes piled haphazardly on the sunny floor of her new apartment. Torres had moved out yesterday on her day off, taking most of the furniture and other things. Callie had the cash to pay for movers. Cristina did too, but why waste the money when she was strong enough to do it herself and had already conned Meredith into helping? Besides, Mer had a car, which she was grudgingly driving right now with the last big load. There were only a few things left to really take care of. A few boxes, the deposit check, her mail, and those last words to the paint and ghosts.
She was strong enough to say goodbye, once and for all, to Preston Burke. At least with no witnesses around, and a rousing chorus of Madonna songs on her iPod to bolster her before doing it. The Material Girl was necessary for today, because she was finally coming out of the Dark Place.
Scooping up her last ratty box of crap she paused by the kitchen counter, one hand idly skipping the cool tiles. How many times had she sat here watching him do any number of tasks? Too many. But no more, she was strong, not some weak, emotional train wreck drowning in self pity and aloneness. She wasn't a Bambi, boo-hooing to anyone who would listen for five seconds. No, she was a kickass cardio god, temporarily branching into other areas of surgery for a bit of well rounding, but still a cardio god. Bracing the box on her hip, one slim hand fished in her pocket for something she'd been dragging around for a long time.
His three carat, flawless Princess cut ring. She snorted, seriously, Princess cut? She'd always thought of herself as a queen or a goddess, not a mere princess when she was a little girl. Now, she was a woman with power; a surgeon.
Setting it carefully on the edge of the counter, in plain view, she turned, hitching the box into both hands, and left the apartment for the last time. Hey, the next tenant could use it for rent, or drugs, or whatever, courtesy of that jerk. The thought put a merry grin on her face as she hit the call button for the elevator. Fucking things always took forever. She tapped her foot, humming a few bars of Lucky Star just because she liked it. Damn, her shoe was untied. Sighing, she set the box on the floor and knelt down to tie her sneaker just as the stupid elevator dinged to announce its arrival. Perfect fucking timing as usual.
Glancing up from her busy fingers, she nearly fell on her ass. Seeing McBadass standing in well cut civie clothes, smirking down at her was just a bit of a shock.
"But- you're supposed to be… Do you have a twin brother in Iraq?" Damn! She could not keep her cool around this guy at all! Every time she'd interacted with him when she met him she'd been a gaping dolt, who couldn't keep her attention focused on anything but his fine ass and kissable mouth. Then he had kissed her and she was so done. Some hard core cardio god she was!
He had the nerve to laugh at her even as he offered her a hand up. She didn't do hands up, ever, but there her slim fingers were, clasped in his as he heaved her to her feet. Trying to collect her scattered wits, she tugged her hand from his grip. He let her go, holding both palms up in a 'no offense' sort of gesture. She picked up her ragged box, praying to god there were no dirty panties or anything else embarrassing hanging out the edges.
"I only have sisters. I was in Iraq, and then my tour ended. I could have stayed in the Pit for more adventure, but someone once told me there was a decent high to be had working at a trauma hospital stateside. Thought I'd see if she was right." Owen casually tucked his hands into his pockets, the denim hugging that long, lean stretch of thigh… Focus! It wasn't her imagination; his smirk deepened to a sexy, knowing grin. It pissed her off even as she felt her nipples harden. Bastard.
"Yeah, okay. But what are you doing here? At my apart- no, not mine any more, at my old apartment? You're not some kind of creepy, Army guy, stalker are you?" one elegant eyebrow quirked in disbelief, if he was she was going to be pissed.
He laughed again, shaking his head. "No, though I did lie to find out your address. Said I was your doctor, wanted to follow up on your icicle impalement. I think the nurse was a little intimidated. I-" he stopped speaking, grin fading to that intense seriousness of his before taking a deep breath. Those impossibly blue eyes pinned her like lasers, searing her skin where they touched. "I want to know you."
Shit.
It was suddenly almost impossible to breath, each breathe reduced to near pants. The lace of her bra was a delicious friction against her breasts on each shallow inhalation, her pulse was humming under her skin and all of her clothes felt too hot and constricting. He wanted to know her? Sputtering, her brain tried to think of anything to say even as her body clamored unequivocally, 'yes!'
"Stalker-y, but very hot. You left Iraq and came here to tell me you want to know me? Intellectually or Biblically?" double shit! Her brain had definitely found something to say, conveniently cutting out the brain-to-mouth edit process. It was a struggle to choke back a hysterical little giggle. No hands up, and no giggling. Ever. She'd broken the hands up rule, so she'd be damned before giggling in front of him. It made the urge to do so even worse.
That sexy, knowing grin again. "Oh definitely both." The elevator doors, impatient to get back to their business dinged and started to close. Owen casually held them open, gallantly gesturing for her to go in. "You were going down, right?" her brain dove straight into the gutter.
"I usually don't do that till after the third date, but thanks for holding the elevator." The no giggling rule left the building as she lost it, mirth pouring from her lips and eyes in only slightly hysteric laughter and two tears. He shook his head, chuckling softly. Deftly he grabbed her arm and hauled her into the elevator with him, the doors finally sliding shut. It took a second for her to process that she was in a tiny elevator, with not nearly enough oxygen or space to protect her from being intensely aware of the man next to her. Her laughter quickly faded as she focused on keeping upright and breathing.
"I'll have to remember that fact after our third date. What are you doing tonight?" His hand slid from her bicep to her forearm, a light caress, harmless. The heat from his hand fuzzed what he said for a few critical seconds.
"Wait, wait, wait! I didn't say I'd go out with you! You- just- no. No dating. I don't date." She stepped back from him, his hand falling from her arm, till her back hit the metal wall. Was this how Meredith felt when any one of her disastrous drama moments caught her in elevators with a man? It sucked.
"Good. I don't date either. I asked you what you were doing tonight, not if you wanted to go on a 'date' with me. If you are free, it will be you, and me, an activity and possibly drinks afterward. No more, no less. I meant when I said I wanted to know you. It only seems fair to declare my intentions so you can plan battle strategy." He leaned against the opposite wall, watching her intently. It wasn't the super intense look of before, where he stripped her to the soul and liked what he saw. It was almost... neutral.
"Strategy? Is getting to know me a war? Do you have a whole offensive planned or just spent to much time in the trenches?" She didn't know whether to be flattered or pissed. She settled for pissed.
"Before you get all ruffled, ask yourself this; if I didn't have a plan of attack, would you honestly have made this easy for me by saying 'yes' to a simple date?" he grinned again, taking the sting from it.
"No. Strategies are good, I guess. And I'm not-" her brain thought one thing and her mouth said another. "-doing anything tonight after 5. Just- unpacking shit and stuff." He cheeks flamed with a blush. Army Guy knew she wasn't going to be an easy sell, and he made her blush. He was bad news. She could still say 'no' to going anyplace with him. Just because she was free didn't mean she had to go with him.
"Good. Meet me in front of the hospital at 6." He pushed off the wall and stepped right in front of her that grin making him look even more attractive and her brain that much slower. Was he going to kiss her again? She held her breath, anticipating it. If he kissed her again, like before, screw waiting, screw knowing her. She just wanted him to screw her.
Relieved, the elevator doors opened, glad to be done with their tense cargo. Owen just wagged his eyebrows at her and jauntily strode out of the elevator. Cristina was momentarily floored, sucking in a disappointed breath. The doors started closing before she roused herself to action.
"Hey! Wait!" she hustled into the lobby to see Owen just about to leave the building. He paused for a moment, waiting. "You never said what the activity was!"
"So? What does it matter what we're doing? You'll come or you won't. Six o'clock, in front of the ER doors." he left then, confidant and insufferably smug, irritating and hot. Bastard.
Cristina shuffled out in front of the building, surreptitiously checking down the street to see if she could see Hunt, and yell at him for being mysterious. No sign of him. Sighing, she dropped her box on the ground and whipped out her cell phone, texting Mer to come pick her up. Like hell was she going to go tonight. Even if he had intrigued her, just a little.