Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.

Call it magic

Call it true

I call it magic

When I'm with you

He let out a contented sigh. They were huddled together on the couch in Cristina's lab, her head resting on his chest. He liked the way she fit against him. He liked her quirky little habit of counting his heartbeat. It was perfect. Everything was perfect.

He felt good. He barely had any idea what time it was. He only knew it was a Wednesday, and they were fine. And that was enough.

He was mindlessly toying with her curls when a light knock on the door brought both of them out of their trance. "Dr. Yang?" A young man's voice said.

The voice was familiar. He was pretty sure that he had heard it somewhere before. Reluctantly, she removed herself from the warmth of his arm, self-consciously brushing her hair. She groaned and mumbled something about Shane always showing up at the wrong time. Ah, right. Shane Ross. The resident.

"1 sec, Dr. Ross!" She shouted at the door and turned back to face him. She whispered, "Do my eyes look puffy? Like I just cried? Just so you know, gossip travels fast here."

He studied her face, once again marveled by how perfect everything was, and shook his head. "No," he said, "you are beautiful."

A smirk crept onto her face. "You should really consider complimenting my brain, Dr. Hunt." She said and opened the door. Shane walked into the lab, the flicker of surprise on his face impossible to be missed when he noticed the presence of the other man in the room.

"Dr. Hunt."

"Dr. Ross." Owen acknowledged his presence with a nod. He brought his attention back to Cristina, who was studying the report which Shane had just handed to her, her lips pursed in concentration, her brow a little furrowed.

"These numbers are fine," she said, "but not great. Continue monitoring and keep me posted every two hours."

"Will do, Dr. Yang."

They both watched as the resident quickly exited the lab, knowing full well that his presence was intruding. Owen stood up once the door was closed and she walked towards him, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. He inhaled, breathing in the scent of coffee and her perfume. The familiar, comforting and heart-warming smell of her.

"What are you doing tonight?" asked Cristina.

"I don't know," he gave a little shrug, "probably nothing."

"Good, because I am buying you dinner tonight, Dr. Hunt." His eyebrow arched as she went on. "But only somewhere near the hospital in case something goes wrong with my patient."

"Ok." He said with a nod, "Always professional, Dr. Yang."

"Well, I'm sure you'd do the same thing, Dr. Hunt." They both laughed in agreement, and he felt her reach for his hand. "Ok. Let's go. I need to get my bag first."

He nodded. But not yet. Not before this. They had only taken three steps towards the door when he caught her by surprise for the second time in the day as he pulled her into his arms, covering her mouth with his before she could say a word. He wrapped one arm around her waist as she gripped the back of his neck, returning his kiss. It wasn't long, it wasn't heated, but it felt right. It was the exact kind of connection they both needed at that moment.

"You know," she said softly, "someone could have walked in on us."

He shrugged. "So?"

She rolled her eyes at his choice of word, but he knew she was pleased. Together they put on a straight face and made their way to the chief's office.

"Welcome to my office."

He stepped into the room, his eyes glancing around, immediately noticing the huge picture of two rows of palm trees lining a street in the sunny California. "That's . . . unlike you."

"I know, right?" She began. "My mother took that photo. She came last month, and she said that it was to remind me that that's where my home is, as if I'm going to forget where I grew up." She rolled her eyes and went on. "And the vases. She threatened that if I didn't let her decorate my office, she would step up action and decorate the whole hospital. Imagine my high school yearbook photo sitting in the front office? And pictures of me wearing a lab coat and goggles in my lab? This is more acceptable."

He laughed, once again amused by the interesting relationship between Cristina and her mother. He walked around the room, taking in the surroundings as Cristina buried herself among all the papers on the desk, promising that they would get out of the hospital right after she finished this. Other than the picture and the vases, the office was pretty Cristina-ish, which meant if a clean freak stepped inside the office, he or she might run away screaming. The documents on her table were arranged in a system that only she understood, like all her books back in the firehouse, which she had warned him never to touch. She had probably warned the people here too, he figured. There were three picture frames on the desk behind her, and he could see Cristina and Derek standing around Meredith, while Zola sat on the bed. He remembered watching them take the photo and trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach at that moment. And then there were a photo of Cristina and Meredith during their wedding, and also a photo of them. He walked around and noticed a particular tidy spot on her desk, where another picture frame sat.

He stepped closer to get a better look at it. It's the photo they used to put in the firehouse, which he still had it in his trailer. It occurred to him that she had printed another one on her own. He picked it up, touching the photo gently, lost in his own memories. He couldn't help thinking how much had happened since the day they took the photo.

Noticing that he stopped in his tracks, she lifted her head and watched him.

"I like your office." He commented. "I have this photo in the trailer too. . ."

She smiled. "I know." She briefly tidied the papers on her desk and stood up. She walked around the table and reached for his wrist, pulling his hand into hers. "Shall we?"

"What about your papers?"

"It's ok. Those can wait."

They both nodded at Alicia as they walked out the room. For a moment, Alicia was stunned at how early her boss left the office that day. She quickly texted her friend in the east wing and shared the news about the chief leaving her office with a good-looking man with her. Her friend replied her that the man was seen walking out of the chief's lab too, and she heard that he was from the chief's previous hospital. Alicia squealed and immediately googled GSMH, channelling her inner detective skills, and texted her friend the instant she got a name—like what Cristina said, gossip did travel fast in the hospital.

NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Please comment and review before you go, and fyi, I'm not going to kill Derek in this story. I'm just going to pretend that everything is fine...