A/N Some mature content.

It was a rather busy day in the Yang kitchen. Cristina and Owen did all of the prep work, while Helen did the actual cooking. Helen carped all of the time but Cristina and Owen did not actually hear her complaints because they were too busy giggling at each other. Logan sat quietly at the kitchen table, sipping a soda, while painting in his coloring books. Helen observed Cristina and Owen and wondered how and when the relationship turned from a professional one to a romantic one. She was a little worried because Owen was a world-famous author while her daughter was a nobody. Well, she wasn't a nobody to the people around her, Helen corrected herself, but she was not a celebrity or famous or anything like that. What would a man like Owen Hunt see in a girl like her daughter?

When it was time for dinner, everyone freshened up and changed into dressier clothing. Owen wore a jacket, sans the tie. Cristina wore a cranberry-colored dress, while her mother donned a chocolate brown dress. Logan was all dressed up in a tiny, long-sleeved shirt and pants.

"My, don't we all look fabulous," Helen said. "We should take a picture before dinner." They set up the camera and they all posed in front of the fireplace. Owen had lifted Logan up in one arm, with his other arm around Cristina, who held her mother's hand. "Cheeeeeeeese," Logan screamed, as the camera flashed. Helen went and took a look at the picture. "It is verrrry nice. I think I will have it framed and put it up on the mantel." Owen was touched when Helen made that suggestion. He was actually going to make it on the picture display on the fireplace. He turned around and examined the pictures. The pictures were of the Yang family at various stages in Cristina's life – as a baby, as a girl, as a teenager and as a young woman with a baby of her own. Cristina's dad, too, was in the pictures. He had a kindly, wise visage and always seemed to have this same peaceful expression in all of the pictures. Cristina was clearly a daddy's girl as she clung to him in all of the pictures. He realized that Cristina must have suffered tremendously, when her dad died. There was also another person in one of the pictures. He knew exactly who the person was. It was Marcus, Logan's dad. While he did have golden brown hair like Logan, his hair was wavy not curly like Logan's. It was from his mother that Logan had inherited his curly locks.

"What are you doing?" Cristina asked, as she sneaked up behind him. "Oh, I am just watching your pictures, here," he said. "You were a very cute little girl."

"Ah, yes, I was and you know what. I still am," she chortled. He turned around and took her in his arms. "Yes, you are. You are still a cute girl." He kissed her on the nose.

"Come on, let's go eat," she said. "Mom and Logan are already at the table. Let us go enjoy the fruits of our labor." There was no one to sit at the head or the foot at the table. Helen and Logan sat on one side, while Cristina and Owen sat on the other side.

"Okay, would you like to do a prayer for Thanksgiving?" Helen asked. Owen was really caught off-guard. It was a long time since he actually prayed. The last time he prayed was when his parents died in the plane crash. He had prayed that they would have been among the survivors but when they weren't, he didn't have much use for prayers, anymore. Everyone looked at him, expectantly. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say but he nodded. They all joined hands.

"Bless us, oh God, for this day, as we share it with the people we love. I have much to be thankful for this year. It may not have started off well but I am grateful for bringing Cristina, Logan and Helen into my life. These are the people with whom I share this meal. Please bless us all and this food in which we are about to partake. Amen."

"That was a very nice prayer, Owen," Helen said. "So let's dig in." It was an hour of good food, loud laughter and great conversation. When it was over, Helen and Owen cleaned up while Cristina went upstairs with Logan to put him in bed.

"Owen, it has been wonderful having you here for Thanksgiving," Helen said. "Thank you for coming. We haven't had an adult male in this house for quite a while."

"It should be me, who should be thanking you," Owen said. "I haven't had a family Thanksgiving dinner, since my parents died when I was 16. This has been a truly terrific time for me and I thank you."

"Well, you know you are welcome for our family get-togethers, if you can fit us into your busy schedule," Helen said. "Owen, I don't mean to pry but I need to ask you about Cristina. She is my daughter and has undergone a lot of trauma, already, in her romantic life. I assume you know about Logan's dad, Marcus, died in an accident. Cristina was devastated after that, especially since Marcus died before Logan was born. So, he was really the only one she has loved. Now I see that things have progressed between my daughter and you."

"Yes, they have," Owen said. "I know you may have some reservations because of who I am. But let me reassure you that I have the best intentions when it comes to Cristina. "

"Do you love her?" Helen asked, pointedly. "I don't want to see my daughter get hurt, after all she has been through."

"Yes, Helen, I love her," Owen said. "But I haven't told her this. Not as yet. It may be too soon to express such emotions. I don't want her to flee."

"Thank you for telling me this, Owen," Helen said. "I can tell you are a good man. If things work out between Cristina and you, then you have my blessing."

"Thanks," Owen said, giving the older woman a light kiss on the cheek. Cristina came into the kitchen, just in time to see Owen giving her mom the kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, hey, mom, are you giving me competition with my boyfriend?" Cristina said. Owen looked surprised as Cristina called him her boyfriend. It felt good to hear her say that. "No, I was just thanking your mom for cooking such a wonderful meal."

"Ah," Cristina said. "She is now your friend for life. Mom loves when people compliment her cooking. She always says that she can't believe she raised someone with such poor culinary skills like me." Everyone laughed. "Do you need any help?"

"We are just finishing up here," Helen said. "Did you get Logan down for the night?"

"Yes," Cristina replied. "He was feeling very tired. All that turkey did him in. I only read half of the story and he was out like a light."

"Well, I guess we're done," Helen said. "I think I am going to do like Logan and retire for the night. I am exhausted. I love Thanksgiving but it really is tiring. Good night." As she left the kitchen, Cristina asked, "Do you want some hot cocoa before you turn in?"

"Sure," he said. He watched her as she made the cocoa. "Watch out, it is hot," she said, handing him a steaming cup. He blew at it first, before he took a sip. It was hot, but creamy and delicious. "Good," he said. "That's what we need for a chilly fall night."

They quietly sipped at their cocoa, staring and smiling at each other. They kept looking at each other, until they were both done. "I guess we should turn in," she said. "Yes," he said. He took her hand and they walked up the stairs. They stopped at her bedroom door and he leaned down and gave her a sweet kiss. She was almost tempted to ask him to stay with her but she changed her mind, knowing that her mother's room was next to hers. He hoped she would ask him to stay but when she didn't, he sighed quietly and went to his room.

He got to his room, took a quick shower and changed into his pajamas. He lay in his bed, thinking about Cristina, who was just two doors away from him. Logan's room was in between Cristina's room and the guest room. Just the thought of her smooth, soft skin was turning him on. He could feel himself hardening. "Stop it, Owen," he said. "You are just driving yourself crazy." Then, he heard it. It sounded like a knock but it was so soft, he wasn't quite sure. Then, he heard it again. Someone was knocking at his door. Could it be…..? He jumped off the bed and ran to open the door. There she stood, wearing a white lacy nightgown. "Do you want some company?" she asked, quietly. He pulled her in and quickly closed the door.

"Do I? Of course I do," he said, as he pulled her into a deep kiss. Their mouths were hungry for each other, as he guided her towards the bed. "I've been wanting to do this for so long," he whispered. "Yeah, me too," she concurred. He stopped and looked at her. "And you said nothing? I have been dying here, wanting you so bad and we could have done this sooner," he said. "You've been denying me this, woman. How could you?" She laughed. Then she stopped herself, got up from the bed and went and locked the door. "I had to do that. I have a little wanderer at night. I can't have him in here, watching us doing the dirty," she said, before throwing herself on the bed, next to him.

Owen chuckled. "Yes, and he was already in here, watching us make out, earlier," he said. "Now let's see about getting these clothes off. I have been waiting for this moment." He pulled off his shirt and slipped off his pjs and boxer briefs. She stared at him, down there. "Okay, you're making me a little self-conscious. I hope you like."

"I like a lot," she said, giggling. "Okay, now let's get this off you. Raise your arms." He pulled off the nightgown over her head to reveal her bare breasts. He leaned down and took her nipples into his mouth, making them harden under his tongue. He wasted no time in slipping off her underwear down her legs. "Now, you're all mine," he said, as he traced his tongue from her breasts right down to the center of her sex. She closed her eyes to enjoy it even more. It had been so long. Other than Marcus, there had only been one other man in her life, who turned out to be a friend with benefits. There was never anything serious with them, so she didn't really consider him as a relationship. She didn't like the feeling she got whenever she had slept with him. It was just so empty. This was different, she knew. This was love. She ran her fingers through his hair, moaning with pleasure. Then, she pulled him up. "Now," she said, staring into his eyes. As he entered her, she gasped, loving the feel of him inside of her. Their bodies were as one, when they climaxed. The release that they both felt was tremendous. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, both realizing that it was a magical moment. She fell asleep in his arms that night.

They awoke the next morning to the sound of someone jiggling the door handle. "Logan," they both said, simultaneously. Logan was persistent in trying to get the door open, as he continued to jiggle the handle. They both quickly put their clothes back on. When they were both decent, Owen opened the door. Logan strode in without a word and then, climbed up on top of the bed, settling in the middle of the bed, next to his mother. Owen got in on the other side of him. Watching the boy cuddle his mother, Owen could not help but smile.

A/N Thank you for reading this story. Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate when you take the time to do so.