Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to proofread this chapter. I'm posting it anyway because if I don't do it now, I won't be able to get to it until Monday. If anything is really bothering you, please let me know, I'll go back and fix it. Thank you all for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
*Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes.
"Hi," Cristina walked into the room, checking her pager out of habit.
"Tired?" Owen asked, stretching out his hand holding the coffee to Cristina.
A smile fully spread upon seeing the large coffee in Owen's hand. "Thanks" Cristina took the coffee and planted herself on the couch directly across from Owen. She sighed as she sipped her coffee. "What?" she asked, noting Owen's eyes that were boring into hers.
"Nothing." Owen revealed a reserved smile before adding, "It's been awhile since I saw you."
"Yeah…" Cristina trailed off.
"Come here," Owen patted the empty space next to him on the bed and beckoned Cristina over.
Cristina briefly hesitated before unfolding her legs and moving over to Owen. She scooted back and leaned against the wall, making Owen follow suit. "How's your patient doing?"
Cristina burrowed her eyebrows in frustration and disappointment. "He's okay for now… He's okay, no thanks to me though."
Owen silently looked at Cristina willing her to continue.
"It's just…" Cristina shrugged in defeat. "Today I almost killed a man because I couldn't do a stitch."
"Almost, Cristina." Owen sat back against the wall and joined in looking ahead with Cristina. "You are a resident and you are learning, which is your job right now. You can't learn if you don't make mistakes. Mistakes are how you learn."
"Yeah…" Cristina offered a nod but still could not shake off the feeling of incompetence she felt during surgery. And it didn't help to hear the harsh critique she received on her lack of general surgical procedures from her mentor, Dr. Hahn.
Still seeing the discontent on her face, Owen crossed his arms to figure out what he could say to make her feel better. "Make mistakes, learn from it, and move on. You can't dwell on something you never had knowledge of. And you're good. You are an excellent surgeon. You only have room for growth from here."
Owen's words impaled Cristina like icicles piercing through her chest, clarifying her doubts on her surgical skills. Owen's affirmations were exactly what she needed to hear on both personal and a professional level. And for once in her life, she felt okay admitting to someone she made a mistake and she was wrong because she simply didn't know. She smiled, providing the most emotion she could muster out at the end of a tiring day.
Owen relaxed, proud he could bring a smile to her on such a long day. "Excited for tomorrow?" he couldn't help but ask.
"Am I finally getting my meat or are you showing off another one of your restaurants?" Cristina sneaked a look at Owen as she took a large sip of the coffee.
"You're getting your steak medium rare," answered Owen as he recalled her preferred meat. "And I ran out of restaurants to show off, anyway," chuckled Owen.
Cristina dragged a long sip of the Malbec at the dining table.
"Was it worth the wait?" asked Owen as he sat back in his dining chair to appreciate Cristina's beauty.
"You should quit running the ER and work behind the kitchen at Cacchia di Rome is what I'm thinking." Cristina relaxed in her chair finished with her meal. She absentmindedly swirled the wine in her glass while cocking her head to glance at Owen from an angle. She crossed her legs and coyly held her gaze.
Owen always appreciated a forward woman. A flush spread throughout his body as Cristina looked at him so brazenly, narrowing her eyes to hint the night towards a dangerous territory. Unable to resist showing his appreciation of her boldness, Owen pulled on the bottom of Cristina's chair towards his seat, tugging Cristina as closest as their chairs would allow. He leaned forward and steadied himself by grabbing the sides of her seat and leaned forward to claim her red lips stained from the wine. Like a magnet drawn to its force, her lips puckered out tasting the same wine on his lips.
Owen's hand snaked around to her lower back and he pulled her closer to him, putting in too much unnecessary strength. The pull dragged Cristina too hard and too fast, almost to the near edge of the chair. Cristina grabbed his thigh to support herself from falling to the ground and pulled apart. "Whoa," she exclaimed. "Trying to take me to the ground or something?"
"Crap, sorry." Owen apologized stabilizing Cristina back in her chair. He wasn't aware of how much force he put into pulling Cristina as his desires clearly were taking over any sense of judgments.
"I'd rather take this to the bedroom." Cristina hinted tugging at his hands.
Owen quickly pecked her lips before averting his gaze. "Let's take this to the couch. I rented a movie to watch tonight."
"Yippee," Cristina chirped sarcastically under her breath and allowed Owen to tug her onto his comfortable sofa.
No sooner after they settled in with Owen's arms securely wrapped around Cristina, her eyes–heavy with sleep and wine–closed as she gave herself to the comfort of Owen's arms.
'Mmmmm,' Cristina moaned in pleasure. 'Owen…'
Owen let his hands wander along the sides of her velvety body as he placed kisses below her ear and trailed down her neck.
'We're going to be late,' Cristina giggled.
'Quick and dirty.' Owen huskily whispered, stopping Cristina from getting out of the bed. 'I'm the head of ER for a reason, after all.'
Cristina laughed as Owen hungrily went back teasing her neck. 'Wait, what time is it?' Cristina turned around to the dresser to reach for her phone.
An arm came from behind and tightly grasped her waist, molding her body perfectly into his. But the hold was much too familiar and a sinking feeling took over Cristina. 'I missed you,' Burke whispered into Cristina's ears, holding her closer than before, almost melting her body into his. 'Cristina… where did you go?' he asked.
Cristina could not find the strength to turn around to face Burke. Why was Burke saying these things to her when it was all too late, why was she in his arms and why did it feel so right? She needed to get out and started struggling, demanding him to let her go…
Cristina jerked her elbow straight into Owen's stomach as she woke herself wide awake.
"Oww," Owen playfully feigned hurt. "Running away from me in your sleep?"
Cristina, now fully awake, looked at the arm and stroked the short blonde curls on Owen's arms. 'It was a dream. It was a dream.' She told herself over and over. She untangled herself from Owen's hold and sat up.
Owen leaned up against one arm get a better look at Cristina. "Are you okay?" he asked, noting her rigid body. He reached for her thigh with the other hand.
Cristina's hand stopped his hand before he could touch her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Bad dream. Sorry I fell asleep," she apologized. "I should go."
"No, it's okay. Are you sure you're okay?" Owen asked, full with concern. "I know a thing or two about bad dreams. You can stay a bit longer, you know."
"No," refused Cristina as she rose. "I should go back to my place anyway. I'll see you tomorrow." She looked behind once to bid goodnight to Owen and she left without a word or another look.
Owen scratched his head in confusion, not sure what came over her as she woke up startled, body rigid and refused to be comforted by Owen.
"Owen!" Callie greeted her friend at the door. "Come in, dinner's almost ready."
"Hello," Owen walked in the apartment. "Is Cristina here?"
"Hello to you too, Hunt," Mark greeted Owen from the couch. Owen acknowledged Mark with a nod.
"No, she was called in to surgery at 5. Sorry bud," Callie gave a comforting rub on Owen's arm. "Don't think your girlfriend can make it for dinner."
"Whoa, you guys are an item already?" Mark suddenly shot up from the couch.
"It's not like that," defended Owen. "I-I don't really know how she feels about me… or what she's looking for."
Callie handed Owen a beer. "Well, you know what you want, right? Talk to her."
"I don't think she's ready for that conversation," Owen took a swig of his beer, remembering her odd behavior couple nights back. "Unless you know something that I don't."
"Sorry, Owen." Callie plated the dishes as Mark helped set the table. "She's very private, barely talks about herself and trust me I probed about your dates but she refuses to talk about you. But I'm sure it's because we're friends."
Despite fully being aware Cristina was a private person, Owen could not help but feel a twang of disappointment she had yet to mention him to Callie. He reminded himself to just shrug off his disappointment as he knew the road to Cristina was never going to be an easy one.
Rough days seemed to be an ongoing vicious cycle for Cristina. She found herself fighting with Alex at 4:30am for an appendectomy and of course as luck would have it, Bailey chose Alex to assist. Her day was spent aimlessly until right before the end of her shift, Hahn paged her needing an extra hand in the OR. Now, six hours later, she was finally out at 11pm. Almost to the end of her energy supply and stomach growling, angry at her for not feeding it since noon, she contemplated spending the night in the on-call room until she realized her place was only across the street after all. She trekked her tired body across the street.
Cristina fiddled with the lock and pushed open the door to her apartment. A waft of home cooked meal greeted her as her stomach rumbled in response. She tossed her keys in the basket and looked up to meet three pairs of eyes on the couch, one of which elicited a flurry of warmth inside.
"Hi," Callie, Mark and Owen greeted Cristina.
Cristina noted the many beer bottles and dishes in the sink. "Seems like I missed the party," she noted.
"Did you have dinner?" asked Callie. "I made chicken piccata. There's leftovers."
"Thanks. Gonna change." Cristina made her way into the room and closed the door behind her. She took her jacket off and carelessly let it drop on the floor. She flopped down on her bed, clothes and all, body too tired to do anything more than lay still. After resting for 10 minutes, she found the strength to lift her body off the bed. She tossed her hair up in a messy bun and changed into comfortable thin grey sweats and a soft black long sleeve. She made her way out of her room and into the kitchen, where a plate of hot food greeted her.
"Owen heated it up for you," Callie spoke a bit louder than necessary.
"Um, thanks." She acknowledged Owen for the first time across the room. He offered her a smile and rose to make his way towards Cristina.
Cristina found a bottle of Stella in the fridge and settled herself on the counter. Owen took a seat by Cristina as he looked at her eating.
"What?" Cristina bluntly asked.
"Nothing." Owen simply answered. "How's the food?"
"You ask like you made it," replied Cristina. "Hey Cal, food's great." She shouted towards their living room.
"Something the matter?" cautiously asked Owen picking up on Cristina's curt answers.
"No." Cristina stuffed her mouth with chicken.
"What's with your answers?" bravely asked Owen.
"Nothing. It's how I always talk." Cristina said it so matter of factly, it took Owen by surprise. The words stung as he couldn't ignore the implication that their conversations are usually sparse and few in between. He had thought they were making headway in their relationship but things started getting awkward again after the night she left in the middle of the movie. Now she was distant and aloof, making Owen feel like he was back to square one.
Cristina was tired and agitated, and the last thing she needed to do was have Owen stare at her eating. His attempts at having a conversation was far better suited if he stopped giving her mixed signals and he made it clear whether he wanted her or not, as she was clearly done with making out on the couch as if they were still in high school. She needed more than that at this point in order to move on from Burke and start a new relationship.
"Um, Sloan and I are calling it a night." The tension that lingered in the kitchen transpired quickly into the living room. Callie and Mark excused themselves into Callie's bedroom leaving Cristina and Owen alone in the kitchen.
Cristina clenched her fork at her bad turn of luck. She had no idea what Owen was doing at her place tonight and whether or not it even had anything to do with her. But all she wanted to do was eat dinner and sleep, with no talking and no thinking.
Owen, unsure of how to act, kept his silence, giving Cristina time to continue the conversation. All her attention was devoted solely to the food and fully getting the hint that she was in no mood for any type of conversation, he rose. "I guess I should leave you to enjoy your dinner. If there's anything that's on your mind, you know where to find me."
Cristina nodded to acknowledge she heard him and with her nod, Owen left the apartment. The thud from the closing of the door rang much too loud for Cristina's liking. She wondered if she did owe him a conversation, maybe explain why she was having a bad day and didn't want to talk.
She grabbed another beer and relaxed on her couch. With food in her stomach and mind relaxed with the help of alcohol, guilt trickled into her senses as she realized her obnoxious behavior towards Owen, who willingly heated her food and tried to keep her company so she wouldn't have to eat alone. She repaid his efforts by being sour, taking out her long and tiring day on someone who just wanted to make it better. She cared too much for her own good and suddenly felt an overwhelming need to apologize. But Cristina did not apologize or call just to say sorry. She was determined to do it her way.
"Cristina–" Owen's mouth stayed opened, surprised at her surprise visit. "Wha–um… You're here…?"
Cristina smoothed her hair down and awkwardly stood in the doorway. "Can I come in?"
"Of course, of course." Owen stepped aside to lead her in. "I wasn't expecting you."
'Really, you didn't get my text, call, email that I'm coming down here to beg for forgiveness?' Cristina rolled her eyes with her back turned to Owen. It was becoming annoyingly endearing how he had the tendency to state the obvious. He made it way to easy for snaky comments.
"Did you want to talk?" Owen led Cristina to the couch and sat besides her.
He was still in his olive button down shirt and dark blue jeans. Cristina gathered he did not wash up and just came home to relax on the couch. He smelled faintly of beer mixed with musky cologne. Cristina leaned closer as Owen quizzically looked at her for a response.
She delicately ran her fingers through his facial hair and leaned closer to kiss him once–'I'm sorry for being such a bitch.' She drew back and kissed him again–'I had a crappy ass day but I felt much better as soon as I saw you on the couch.' She grabbed his face and kissed him a third time–'Thank you for making me feel something after I swore off on love.' She raised her hips and crawled over to straddle Owen and hungrily went in for a fourth kiss–'I like you and I want you.'
Owen felt too large in his own skin as he let Cristina roam his face and plant intimate kisses that were new yet felt so right at the same time. He moaned as he felt her leg slide over to straddle him as her kisses became hungrier, filled with passion and greed. He took a sharp intake as he could not control his hands, wrapping them around her waist to roam. He was losing his senses second by second. It was only when Cristina reached below to take it to the next level did Owen realize what they was happening between them. He couldn't do this without making sure with her first. He stopped her hands from going any lower. "Wa-wait." He slightly panted. "Cristina, wait." He grabbed her hands back away.
Cristina's pressed her hips to Owen's as she no longer had control of her hands. She was sure she wanted him.
"Wait. Stop." Owen spoke more assertively.
Cristina stopped her movements and pushed Owen's chest to create a distance. She grilled Owen a look.
"We need to talk," Owen firmly spoke, sure that a conversation was needed before they took things to the next level.
Cristina's whole body tensed as she took in his words. It did not occur to Cristina she could be putting herself up for rejection by showing him how sure she was she wanted him. Was this his way of saying I'm not sure about this and we need to take things slowly?
"Are you serious?" Pissed, she hurriedly slid off Owen's lap and shot him a look from above. "You've got to be kidding me."
Confusion took over Owen at Cristina's reaction. "Hold on," he quickly reached out for her hands but she snapped them away from his reach.
Cristina stormed out of the apartment.
Stunned for a second, he momentarily halted but came back to the situation at the loud bang of the door. Immediately, he ran after Cristina, who was heading towards the elevator.
"Wa-wait!" Owen ran to Cristina. "What's going on here?"
Cristina furiously turned around. For a fraction of a second, she had fooled herself into thinking she could do the whole relationship thing with Owen. "Before I was able to do the hot and cold thing. But now, Owen, no." The elevator door opened and Cristina stepped inside. She jabbed 5 as she looked up to see Owen's speechless and shocked expression. "Don't." She held her hand up stopped Owen from coming closer as he made a motion to continue this interaction. "Leave me alone."
Owen froze at her words. Something went terribly wrong and he was unable to point what the issue was. He wanted to talk about them. Just talk before they moved onto the next step yet she stormed off, furious and set on never seeing him again. Owen stood in front of the elevator, replaying the events in his apartment over and over until he lost track of time.
Owen decided to give some time for Cristina to calm down and give her time to be alone, which is what she seemed to need. He gave one day for Cristina to think, two days for himself to assess and by the third day, paged, called and texted all to no avail. Being relentless paid off as he finally managed to track her down, grabbed her arm and pulled her into the nearest supply closet.
"What are you doing?" Cristina wearily asked, slightly annoyed.
"I don't care if you are done. I'm not." Owen, equally annoyed and mad, spoke up. "I still have no idea what happened that night but you can't just call it off like that."
"Oh, really?" Cristina mocked Owen. "I can't because it's up to you whether or not the mood suits you?"
"Stop talking in circles and tell me what you're mad about," demanded Owen.
"It doesn't matter," stubbornly refused Cristina.
"It might not matter to you, but it matters to me. So I would appreciate if you can talk to me because I do care…" Owen spoke in a defeated tone and leaned against the door, body slightly slumped.
Cristina noted the defeat and tiredness in his voice. And once again, guilt flooded her as she realized she was being difficult without giving him a reason. She finally spoke after a minute of silence as his pleading eyes finally got to her. "I don't know what you want."
"Want?" Owen repeated not understanding her question. "I want you. I want us to work out," he offered the best answer to her vague question.
Cristina shrugged. "Could've fooled me. I thought I was just your make out buddy."
Owen was inching closer and closer to figuring out her complex personality. "Is this what this is about? That I'm not serious about you, about us?" Owen was shocked to realize how many doubts Cristina had about his feelings for her. "Cristina," he spoke, almost in a stern tone. "I want you. I want you more than you can know. But I can't move forward with you right now. I can't–no, I do not want to be your rebound."
This time it was Cristina to be shocked at Owen's claim. "Who are you to tell me you are my rebound? And if I remember correctly, you broke off your engagement not too long before I did. Who's to say you are not in this just to forget your fiance? What gives you the right?" Thoroughly taken aback and offended for Owen doubting her intentions, she spoke loudly and brashly.
This was the first time either ventured into their past relationships. Owen finally understood that both had doubts for each others feelings but never bothered to clear. Well, on Owen's end, he was almost scared for Cristina to admit that she was not over Dr. Burke and that Owen was just a distraction but hell, he was sure from the beginning of his intentions and feelings for this frustrating woman before him. But he needed to face reality and make her face reality whether or not she was ready to move on.
"Cristina…" He straightened up against the door. "Are you sure of what you feel for me? Because I am. I want you. I want a relationship with you. I want to sleep with you. I want to wake up with you. I'm sure but are you?"
"That's just a bunch of words Owen. You either want it or you don't. I don't do complicated." curtly spoke Cristina.
"I beg to differ. You are complicated," sighed Owen. A moment of silence passed between them, the conversation having gone back and forth without either of them meeting in the middle. Finally Owen made move and stepped one foot closer to Cristina, forcing her to take a tiny step back. "Look… I don't want you just right now." Owen reached out and stroked her arm that were folded across her chest. "I want to be around forty years from now."
Cristina blinked twice, making sure she heard him correctly, making sure this was really happening. Never having been the one accustomed to such declarations, Cristina could not decipher the feeling that gathered in the pit of her stomach. Normally, she would have easily taken the drop of her stomach to mean a huge red flag–that he was forcing his way in when she was not ready; that he was expecting something from her now that he expressed what he felt. But her instincts told her it was the exact opposite of wanting something more. Owen was holding back and waiting for her to come around when she was ready.
Seeing the shocked expression on her face, Owen decided he had said enough and it was for her to understand his words. To seal the deal on his words, he closed the gap between them and ran his hands on her arms. He halted and learned forward to softly peck her lips once, then ever so slightly twice for good measure. "I'm here. I'll be here until you are ready. Take your time." Owen gave one last lingering look to Cristina and left the closet prepared to give her ample time to make the next move.