Cristina sat quietly on the end of their couch, her knees drawn to her chest, staring blankly at the wall as Burke cooked dinner for the both of them.

Her eyes wandered over her textbooks, her suture materials still strewn over the table, then back to the wall.

She could practice, she thought, or she could sit here and be miserable and wallow in her anger and disdain for Meredith and Webber. She wouldn't have to know sutures for cardiology anyway, the only thing they had to know was how to listen to a heart, and even a bad nurse could do that.

"Cristina...dinner is ready." Burke offered lightly, holding a plate of chicken and vegetables out to her.

She rose from the couch and shuffled slowly to the table, folding a leg underneath herself as she sat down to eat. "Thanks, baby."

He studied her quietly, aching to say something about what she'd said to Meredith earlier, longing to know if surgery really was the one thing that was still of the utmost importance to her, and that he was still just second place. He let out a long sigh as he stabbed at a spear of broccoli, "No sutures tonight?"

She shook her head, pushing a piece of chicken around her plate, "What's the point? Webber's too busy catering to Meredith to handle two residents with issues. I'll just work in cardiology until July and switch specialties."

"You could stay home...just work at your sutures more?"

She looked up to him, "Seriously? You think I can just sit here for another 11 months or whatever and suture bananas, chickens and an arm?"

"You're right. I forget how important the hospital is to you." he retorted, letting his anger out of check for only a moment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she dropped her fork on her plate, "Because that sounded like it was supposed to mean something."

"Nothing, Cristina. You're reading too much into it."

"Burke." she threatened.

"Cristina. Now that we know each other, how can I help you?" he took a sip of his water, trying to clear his throat for the impending fight.

"Why are you acting like that?" she pressed.

"It couldn't have anything to do with the fact, that I'm still just an accessory to you, could it?"

"Where do you get that? I never said..."

"You said it to Meredith today. That surgery was the most important thing in your life. I guess I'm just details?"

Cristina sunk down into her chair, hoping against all hopes that she could just disappear, that she could just be some place else in that moment, "You heard that..." she sighed. "Burke, I didn't..."

"You didn't want me to hear?"

"No, that's not what I meant, I didn't mean it that way, I was angry, and I was...I was just angry with her, and I wanted her to know how much she hurt me. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Well, it sure as hell meant something to me, Cristina." he threw his fork down at his plate, "I've done everything I can do for you. I've swallowed enough pride for the both of us, and let you go about the hard way of doing everything, and you still can't just let me love you. I can't keep this up forever."

He rose from his seat, leaving a nearly full plate of food on the table, and she hurriedly followed him into the bedroom. "Burke, you can't just walk away."

"You've done it before.", he regretted it the second he'd said it.

"That's not fair."

"What in our relationship is fair? I've given you all that I can, and it's never good enough...not for you."

"It's always good enough." she protested, sitting next to him on the bed her hand coming to rest on his.

"Then marry me."

Actions speak louder than words, and in the moment that she pulled her hand away and looked at him as if he'd smacked her, her words would never be enough. "Burke, I love you..."

There was a long pause of silence, then he finally spoke.

"But you're not in love with me?" he questioned, "Or you expect to tow me around on this line for the rest of your life and not fully give of yourself?"

"It's not that I don't want to marry you...I want to get back to work, to surgery first. I need to."

"Because it's always surgery first with you." he muttered, his words cutting through her like a scalpel.

She forced herself to his side, pushing aside her doubts, "Let me get back to work. Get back into the routine that I know, the life that I'm used to..."

"I should be the life that you're used to." he interrupted her.

"Let me finish. Just let me have a few weeks back at work and ask me again. I promise you, I promise that I will say yes, and I don't care when we do whatever we have to do to make it official...just let me get back to work." She didn't really feel the words she was saying, but she couldn't take him being angry at this moment in time.

And she certainly couldn't take a proposal either.

"You mean that?" he asked, glancing at her with doubt.

"Would I say it if I didn't?"

A/N: He doesn't know better, but we do. Sorry, your Christmas is over, I don't have to worry about the Christmas spirit. ;) ;)