Ch.6

"Hey," Cristina's feet stopped as she quickly scanned through his entire body, making sure he was doing fine.

Thierry was right. She was worried. After all, Paris wasn't the friendliest city and Burke wasn't the smartest tourist. Besides, how could she have forgotten how she nearly lost him many months ago to the gun shot?

Noticing the undivided attention Cristina graced upon him, which lasted for at least 3000 milliseconds, Burke motioned forward. His arm and the back of Cristina's waist were a perfect set of lock and key.

Although Cristina was still feeling a little edgy, she did not push him away. Instead, she returned Burke's sheepish smile with a softened expression on her face.

"Fr. Thierry Garnier," Cristina turned to Thierry and said, "Dr. Preston Burke."

"Call me Thierry. I'm sure you don't want me to call you Dr. Burke," Thierry extended his arm and received Burke's hand warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"My pleasure, Thierry."

No matter what he had been through, Burke played the role of a graceful diplomat to its perfection as he greeted Thierry. Cristina immediately rolled her eyes. Her boyfriend did have a way to charm people.

"Thierry is a long-time friend of mine. We met many years ago when I was studying here."

"Preston, can I call you Preston?" Thierry paused before he saw a nod from Burke.

"Don't forget to ask your girlfriend about her first public display of talent as a doctor!"

Burke shot a suspicious look at Cristina, who was pushing some of her curls to the back of her ear without looking up.

The sun was shying away from the earth. Soon it would be completely dark.

Cristina asked to be dropped off by the Seine. The river was running through the city like a source of life. Cristina hated ferryboats in Seattle, but she was secretly hoping to get Burke onto the sightseeing boat after Thierry left.

It held an irreplaceable piece of memory of her days in Paris. Something she was ready to share with Burke.

"You two love birds should go and enjoy the rest of the evening. This old man here has to go home and say his prayers."

"Thank you, Thierry." Cristina was going to miss this solid handshake from the man who was both a friend and almost a father to her.

"I know Cristina is Jewish, but if you decide to get married in Paris one day, you know which church to go to." Thierry waved at the couple from the rear mirror and drove off.

"So, do you want to get on one of those sightseeing boats?"

Burke hesitated. Cristina wasn't keen on being a tourist. Would it be a trick question for him?

"Do you, Cristina?"

"Well, I can go if you want to."

"Let's not do it then," Burke responded curtly, taking Cristina's answer as a no.

Immediately, he realized he had given the wrong response. Cristina, contrary to his expectation, appeared mildly disappointed.

"Ok, never mind," she said as she approached the opposite direction.

"Wait, Cristina. I thought you don't want to go?"

"Why would I ask if I wasn't interested?" Cristina pulled a strand of her hair up and then let it go. She was trying her best to hide her frustration.

Without saying another word, Burke grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the ticketing office. "Two tickets please."

"Hang on, it isn't completely dark yet. Why don't we eat something first?" The firm grip of Burke was reassuring, but Cristina didn't want to feel like she's being pushed around.

That's exactly what she meant by him going too fast when she's slow and vice versa! If only they could move at the same pace. In fact, there were times they did, but more often they didn't.

In order not to miss their boat ride, they settled for a fast food stall along the Seine. Each of them ordered a fish burger. Sitting on the riverbank under the dimly lit street lamps, neither of them had the courage to break the silence. Eventually, Cristina spoke up.

"How was your day?"

"I went to the top of the Notre Dame."

"You did?" Cristina's eyes glistened. "I used to like that a lot. My friends and I would sneak up there at night and drink."

"I thought it closes in the evening."

"There's no such thing as a closed door in this world when you know where to find the key," Cristina laughed.

"How about you? Where did you go after you left?" Burke was preparing to hear other outrageous stories from his girlfriend.

"I went to have my favorite dessert, then I walked around Montmartre before meeting up with Thierry."

"Is that there place where you see a lot of artists?"

"Renoir's house was there," Cristina added matter-of-factly.

"I didn't go into the Pompidou," Burke touched his glasses.

"I didn't know you are into modern arts."

"I'm not. But that museum had something radiant about it."

It wouldn't take long for Burke to notice that Cristina was delighted to hear that he shared similar sentiments towards her favorite place in Paris. "It's awesome."

"But I'm glad I didn't go in," Burke looked deep into Cristina's eyes. "Or you wouldn't have found me."

"Yea, whatever." Cristina wanted to smack him for being so cunningly sweet.

Paris was a romantic city, but it embarrassed her to realize that she was actually enjoying their date. There was no candlelight dinner, only two fish burgers; no champagne, only diet cokes; no moonlight, only street light. Yet, she felt like a 20-year-old once again, meeting her boyfriend in secret, tasting the forbidden fruit of love.

"Are you ready to go on the boat ride yet?" Burke placed his jacket over her shoulders as they took small steps along the river.

"Do you want to know why I like it?"

"Why?" Burke raised his head.

"My best friend made everyone sing Happy Birthday to me on the boat one night," a gentle, almost fragile smile flashed across Cristina's face.

"How old were you?"

"It wasn't my birthday."

Burke scratched the top of his nose. "Whose birthday was it?"

"Nobody's. He learned that nobody had ever sung me a Happy Birthday before, not even when I was little, so he decided to give me a surprise that night."

Cristina's dreamy look unnerved Burke a bit. He wondered if it was just a friend. "I thought Meredith's your best friend. You never mentioned this guy before."

"Can't I have a life before selling my soul to medicine?" Cristina was amused by the jealousy obvious in Burke's tone. "You wouldn't recognize me if you met me 10 years ago anyway."

Burke took a good look at the woman beside him, pondering on what to say.

"His name was Kyle. A kid I tutored. He died of leukemia a week later."

Cristina let her hair spread across the overbearing darkness as she leaned on the back of her seat, sideways.

Drawing himself closer to her, Burke began to think of the Cristina who had a passion for modern art, the Cristina who used to enjoy spending time with young children. So many things had been left out in their relationship that suddenly Burke wasn't sure if he really knew her.

"He's a very sweet boy. Always thought about me first, even though I was much older and should be protecting him."

Cristina crossed her legs, her toes carelessly touching Burke's ankle. He didn't say a word but only listened.

"Most people don't care about me the way you two did," Cristina rested her fingers loosely on his palm and then squeezed it. "Next time I won't leave you alone in a foreign city, OK?"

They both smiled. The night had just begun.