Author's Note: First of all, thank you for all who have been leaving me reviews! My goodness, I wouldn't write these if it weren't for all of you. Anyways, this story involves a theory that is based on a spoiler comment, so be forewarned if you don't like spoilers.

Dedication: This is dedicated to Mary and Mari. I hope you guys like it. :)

Curveballs

At first, Cristina attributed her symptoms to having a broken heart. She felt sick to her stomach every time she remembered that she and Owen were no longer together, and seeing him at work looking so solemn tore at her because she knew that she'd failed him. She had promised him her strength, but she had overestimated her limits. It pained her that her body and mind could not obey her heart – because her heart wanted desperately to be by his side while her body wouldn't permit it to happen.

They tried to remain professional, but their gaze would linger just a moment too long or their gloved hands would pause for a second as they exchanged surgical tools. Whenever she'd happen to be on his trauma service, she always subconsciously drew near him, reveling in the proximity of his body so close to hers. It was both temptation and torture – to look but not touch.

So, when she started to feel slightly lightheaded and nauseous while heading over to the ER, Cristina just brushed it off as being nerves due to the fact she was on Owen's trauma service. Without even a thought towards the significance of the gesture, Cristina pulled the hair tie from her wrist and put her hair up in a messy bun. Owen's eyes caught hers from across the room while her hand was still on her hair, and Cristina froze for a moment. His gaze drifted down towards her neck briefly before coming back up to meet hers, and Cristina unconsciously touched the back of her neck. Realizing where her hand was in conjunction with who she was looking at, Cristina immediately dropped her hand to her side and broke eye contact. She busied herself with getting a yellow surgical gown, quickly and efficiently tying the ties behind her neck and back.

With her eyes still slightly averted, she approached Owen and asked, "So, what do we have?"

Owen paused for a moment, wanting to find the right words to get rid of the awkwardness between them. Wanting to tell her that he was seeing Dr. Wyatt regularly for therapy – though he still felt uncomfortable talking about himself and Iraq. That he had been going to the sleep lab and having tests done so that she never had to be afraid of sleeping in his arms again. That every day, he was getting closer and closer to being whole and healthy, mentally and physically. Closer to being the man that had swept her off her feet and spontaneously kissed her senseless after only knowing her for a few hours – but now so much more in love and willing to prove just how much for the rest of their lives. But instead, he cleared his throat and said, "Fistfight at some bridal store that was having a sale."

Cristina's lips instantly drew into a smile in response, causing Owen's heart to skip a beat – he had missed her smiles. Even more so, he missed being the one to make her smile.

If this was before, she would have probably made some snarky comment about women and wedding dresses. But it wasn't before, and they weren't there anymore; so, Cristina kept any commentary to herself, and they stood there in mutual silence as they awaited the paramedics to wheel in the patient. But at least she smiled, Owen thought to himself, grasping onto the tiniest sign of hope that things would get better.

***

Minutes later, Owen and Cristina were tending to two best friends – well, two former best friends – who had gotten into a fight over a particular wedding dress. Their argument had escalated to the point where Owen finally closed the curtain between them, hoping that the thin separation of fabric would deter any further yelling – and throwing. It stopped the latter but not the former, and Owen's ears were starting to ring. For once, he wished that Karev was here instead of Cristina since he was in dire need of someone to tell his patients to shut the hell up. And though Cristina was probably chomping at the bit to do just that, Owen had never seen her yell at a patient – no matter how tempting it was. And Owen would do it himself, but he had been raised to never disrespect a woman like that.

Callie sat on a stool beside one of the women's gurney and checked her hand gingerly for any fractures. The woman's hand was red from having punched her friend in the face.

"I can't believe you punched me!" the voice called out from behind the curtain, this being the third time she said it – or rather, yelled it.

"You deserved it, you hag. That was totally my dress. I saw it first! You aren't even engaged yet. Why the hell do you need a wedding dress anyways?" Callie's patient screamed, nearly blowing out Callie's eardrums.

Cristina, who was tending to the "hag" – or Joanna, according to her medical insurance card, calmly said, "Keep the ice pack on your nose, ma'am." The patient placed the ice pack back on her, having temporarily removed it in order to yell at the other woman. Owen, sparing a sidelong glance at Cristina in the hopes to silently convey his thanks, noticed Cristina pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a few deep breaths. Owen could see the color fading from her cheeks. He set down the patient's charts and moved closer towards her, his arms ready to catch her should she faint.

"Dr. Yang, are you okay?" he asked, purposely addressing her in such a formal manner since Callie was just a few feet away.

Callie, still the tiniest bit on edge whenever Owen was near Cristina – though she could tell that the man was still clearly in love with her roommate and knew that he was genuinely a decent man, quickly drew back the curtain to see what was wrong.

"Cristina?" she said, rolling closer to her friend while still seated atop the stool.

Cristina stretched out her hand, stopping Callie from coming any closer. "Oh god," Cristina muttered. "I think I'm going to throw up." With that, she clamped one hand over her mouth, threw the packet of gauze into Owen's outstretched hands, and ran towards to nearest bathroom.

Owen instinctively caught the packet in his arms and watched Cristina's retreating back with concern. Once she was gone from view, he looked back towards Callie, who shared a similar look of shock mixed with worry. Callie could see that Owen was torn between the need to check up on Cristina and his professional duty as the Head of Trauma to remain in the ER. Callie took pity on him and nodded towards the hallway that Cristina had disappeared into. "Go. I'll take care of these two."

Owen, taken aback by the change in attitude towards him – but in a good way, gave her nod of thanks and went after Cristina.

***

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, Cristina repeated in a mantra inside her head as she pulled down on the handle to flush the toilet. She slowly got off the floor, bracing herself against the stall and tearing off a long piece of toilet paper to wipe her mouth with. Cristina walked over to the sink and turned on the water. Cupping her hands beneath the stream, she lowered her head and took a sip to wash out the acrid taste in her mouth. After gurgling a few times, Cristina splashed her face with the cold water then blindly reached for the nearby paper towel dispenser to dry off her face. Throwing the wad of paper into the trash, she shut off the water and hung her head over the basin as she thought about what this all meant. The last time she had puked, it had been because she was pregnant. Cristina lifted up the hem of her scrub top and undershirt to look at her bare stomach, staring at the curve of her stomach to see if it was rounder than usual – not that she really expected to see anything at this stage, but she felt the need to try anyways. No matter how hard she glared, she could not see any perceptible difference. She didn't feel pregnant. But then again, she hadn't felt pregnant the last time either. She placed one hand on her stomach – still nothing.

She let her top fall back down and glanced at her watch. Only a few hours until the end of her shift. A few hours until she could go to the nearby supermarket and buy a handful of pregnancy tests. If she was pregnant, it was going to take more than one test to convince her. She only had one fallopian tube – and she was on birth control. What was it with her and getting pregnant? For someone who was nowhere near ready to be a "mommy", her body was one serious baby-making machine. Or, the men she slept with had some seriously strong swimmers.

"Cristina, are you okay?"

Cristina jumped, startled out of her reverie by the sound of Owen's voice from behind the woman's bathroom door. Cristina quickly glanced at her reflection to make sure that none of her hair was stuck to her forehead and that she no longer looked ill before opening the door to greet Owen with a falsely calm look of reassurance.

"I'm fine," she said, acting as if she always ran out in the middle of treating a patient to go puke her brains out.

Owen looked at her dubiously. "Are you sure?" he asked softly, desperately wanting to hold her in his arms and check her vitals to see what was wrong. Even though she looked fine now, Owen wanted to order her on bed rest. He knew it was irrational and that he was overreacting; but, Owen had always tended to feel a little overprotective when it came to Cristina.

"Yes. I must have caught some bug," Cristina replied nonchalantly, when secretly she was freaking out. "I'm fine. See? Let's go back to the future bridezillas." Cristina gave him a crooked smirk then walked past him, back towards the pit. Owen followed behind her, not believing a word she said but reluctantly accepting the fact that he'd have to wait for her to tell him the truth – if she ever did. Cristina had always been good at keeping secrets – it was one of the things he loved about her, since he valued his privacy and detested gossip; though it was at times like these that he found that attribute of hers frustrating.

***

"Are you even listening to me?" Meredith asked, waving a hand in front of Cristina's face to get her attention.

Cristina snapped out of her stupor and turned to Meredith. "I'm sorry, what?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Ever since I got here, you've been out of it. What were you doing before? Did you hit your head or something?"

"No," Cristina replied. I found out that positively, absolutely pregnant. Unless all three of the pregnancy tests were wrong, she thought. Instead, she said, changing the topic, "Why are you over here anyways? Shouldn't you be asking McDreamy about all of this? Or Izzie?"

Meredith groaned in frustration. "First of all, I can't really ask Derek to write my vows for me. Second, Izzie wanted me to at least come up with a rough draft first before she'd read over it. She called it 'homework.' Psh. What is it? School? And last of all, you're my maid of honor. And my person. So, if I have to do suffer through this, so do you." Meredith stared at the blank page in front of her, willing the words to come out. "What was I thinking? Dark and twisty people do not agree to write their own wedding vows. Especially when they're marrying men who propose in elevators. How am I supposed to compete with that? Do you think he'll notice if I find a really good one from the internet and just change the names?"

Meredith turned to Cristina and saw that the other woman was once again not paying attention. Even though she wanted to yell at her, Meredith knew that Cristina had been having a hard time since she and Owen had broken up. At first, she had been relieved. It wasn't that she thought Owen was a terrible guy; deep down, she knew he wasn't. Ever since the moment she had walked in on them in the on-call room and had seen Owen sleeping atop of Cristina – and Cristina actually letting him, she had secretly been studying him whenever he and Cristina were in the same room. She had caught the way his face would soften whenever Cristina entered a room or the subtle manner in which he'd move closer to her. And until the choking incident, she had been grateful to Owen for making her friend happy – and for helping Cristina to finally move on from the pain Burke had caused. But then Owen had caused her pain – conscious or not – and it wasn't something Meredith could easily forget or forgive.

She wasn't really angry at him anymore, especially since Derek had told her about Owen seeking treatment for his PTSD. The army doctor was obviously trying to fix himself, and Meredith suspected that it was mainly for Cristina – it hadn't escaped her notice that he'd asked Derek for help around the same time Cristina had broken up with him. But Meredith was fiercely protective of the people she cared about, and Owen had a lot to make up for before Meredith would completely trust him.

Meredith sighed and put down the pen and paper, sensing that she wouldn't get any help from Cristina until she found out the cause of all this distraction.

"Cristina," Meredith said in a gentler tone than before, "what is it? And don't tell me it's because I'm boring you with all this wedding stuff. Because I know that's not it. So, just tell me."

Cristina, having turned her attention back to Meredith upon hearing her name, took a moment to try and find the right way to tell Meredith that she was pregnant – again. She hadn't told her that she had slept with Owen; and in all honesty, it was mostly because she didn't want to hear Meredith say anything to ruin that memory. Not knowing how else to say it, Cristina finally settled on being straightforward.

"I'm pregnant." Cristina looked at Meredith, her body involuntarily tensing up for the yelling that she knew would soon follow.

"What?" Meredith said loudly, as if she were deaf and hadn't heard Cristina properly.

"I'm pregnant," Cristina repeated.

"Who's the father?" Meredith asked, immediately feeling like an idiot for even asking. Cristina gave her a pointed look. Of course Meredith knew who the father was. "G.I. Joe? You had G.I. Joe, and you didn't tell me? When was this? It couldn't have been that recent, could it? I haven't been that caught up in all this wedding stuff, have I?" Meredith paused for a moment to think, and then it hit her. "Oh my god, you had sex with Hunt right before you broke up with him? Cristina, how could you not tell me?"

Cristina stared at Meredith in confusion. "I slept with G.I. Joe, and the only thing you're hung up on is the fact that I didn't tell you earlier?" Cristina placed the back of her hand against Meredith's forehead before Meredith swatted it away. "Is this wedding thing getting to you?"

"What do you want me to say? That you're an idiot for sleeping with a guy right after he nearly killed you? Fine, you're an idiot. But nothing I say is going to change the fact that he knocked you up. Does he know?"

Cristina scoffed in response. "No. I just found out right before you got here. Plus, what would I say? 'Hi, I know I broke up with you and that we haven't really talked to each other since. But by the way, I'm pregnant.' He's still wounded, Mer. I don't know if he could handle it."

"He has the right to know. And Derek says he's been doing a lot better lately, especially with Dr. Wyatt. See, I told you she's a good psychiatrist."

Cristina tilted her head at Meredith in surprise. "You've been checking up on Owen?"

"Of course. It's obvious you still care about him. And you're my person. So of course I'm going to keep tabs on the guy my person's in love with – because there is no way I'm going to let him get close to you again until he gets his head screwed on straight."

"You know, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think this engagement with McDreamy is making you into a better person. It's sort-of freaking me out."

Meredith laughed. "I know. It sort-of freaks me out, too. But anyways, I can't believe you're pregnant – again. It's called birth control, Cristina."

"I was on the pill. Give me some credit. I am a doctor, you know. But seriously. What is it with me and getting pregnant? I have only one fallopian tube and I was on the pill. Imagine if I hadn't been using birth control. He probably would've gotten me pregnant just by looking at me. The man puts the 'sex' in 'eye sex.' Oh my god, what am I going to do? I'm going to be the stupid, fat, hormonal pregnant chick who got knocked up by her boss – again. It's like Burke all over again. Except that this time I did the breaking up – but still, we aren't even together anymore." Cristina threw her head back against the couch and covered her eyes with her arm. "What am I going to do?"

Meredith moved closer to Cristina, put her head on her shoulder, and wrapped an arm around her – just as she had the last time Cristina was pregnant.

"You know this constitutes hugging?" Cristina asked.

Meredith smiled. Apparently Cristina also remembered. And just as she did once before, Meredith replied, "Shut up. I'm your person."

(To Be Continued…)