Title: Worried

Genre: Television

Series: Grey's Anatomy

Characters: Cristina Yang, Preston Burke

Spoilers: 2x16, 2x17 "It's the End of The World (As We Know It)"

Summary: He sent her away. He was walking into a room with a bomb, and he'd sent her away.

Cristina sat in a dark room, away from the noise and the chaos. She hadn't been able to focus with the knowledge that Burke was there (in that room), with Meredith, bomb squad leader guy, and a bomb. He'd sent her away. She'd wanted to be there for Meredith, but more importantly, for him. What if he'd died? What if the bomb went off and he died? What would she do then? Not that he cared. He'd been so cold. So distant. Even when she tried reaching out to him, something she rarely if ever did, he'd not even reacted. She'd wanted comfort! Something to hold to herself as he willingly went into the face of danger.

Cristina had tried so hard to be useful. If not to Dr. Burke and Meredith, then to Dr. Sheperd. In the end, he hadn't really needed her either. So she left. She'd come downstairs, first looking for Izzie, who had disappeared along with Alex, and then she'd looked for George, who was going googly-eyed at Hannah the amazing Running Paramedic. Well...at least he wasn't googling at Meredith anymore. However, this left her with no one to vent to. Cristina did what Cristina did best; she secluded herself and tried to work.

Her thoughts betrayed her, however. While searching through medical books, idly looking for the surgical procedure that Dr. Sheperd was performing on Bailey's husband, she remembered the day she'd been laying on Burke's bed, studying, and he'd lain beside her, occasionally leaning over her to point something out. Gradually, the leans and turned into caresses...and it'd gotten worse (or better) from there, finally culminating in the books falling to the floor, and the one that hadn't fallen...well...it'd gotten a little torn up.

Cristina shook herself out of that memory, because that memory brought others, the most important one is that the man who loved her was at that very moment operating in an explosive situation. How did she feel about that? How was she supposed to feel? All Cristina could tell was that she was numb. Everywhere. Like it wasn't real. Like there was no bomb, like last night Burke hadn't said he loved her, like all of this was some strange dream she only had to wake from.

She needed him. Why wasn't he here? That damn surgery was more important to him than her? And he professed to loving her? That's not right! That doesn't make sense. Cristina ignores the fact that it's all something she herself would do. At the moment she isn't thinking like Cristina, she's thinking like Burke's lover, and that kind of thinking could undo all the barriers she'd worked years to put up.

Suddenly, an explosion rocks the building. Fire alarms start to go off, and Cristina can vaguely hear screams and running and more screams...but she's frozen. She can't move, not a muscle, not even a thought. Slowly, things calmed down, but she still couldn't move. Was he dead? Was he right now bleeding out or having a seizure or a subdermal bleed...

The door creaked open. Cristina could tell that, but she still couldn't move, her head frozen in the position of looking down at a book, her body stretched out over a hospital book. She knew it was him. She hoped it was him, because he either was really there or she was imagining things, which meant he was dead and a ghost, or she was seriously in need of some psychiatric help...

Cristina turned her head just a bit, and glimpsed dirty sneakers in the doorway. Not Preston then. He'd never allow his shoes to be that dirty. Cristina shook her head and sat up, still not turning to see who was at the door. Whoever it was, wasn't important if they weren't Burke.

"What?" She asked, rubbing her neck as a crick made itself known with a sharp creak. Behind her, the person at the door moved further into the room, not speaking, just looking at her.

Cristina closed her eyes as she worked at the knot in her neck and waited for an answer. When she felt someone's hands replaced her's and start kneading at her neck, she accepted it without opening her eyes. She assumed George had gotten turned down and was looking for sympathy. Though why he would be massaging her neck eluded her.

"Did you she dump you, then?"

"Who?"

Cristina opened her eyes and saw Burke's beautiful mere inches from her own as he massaged her neck. "Burke?"

He lifted an eyebrow mockingly. "You were expecting..."

"George!"

"I can leave," Burke replied dropping his hands and turning to go. Cristina grabbed his arm and pulled him back. He looked tired. His face was pale, and his eyes red. His mouth, despite teasing her, was tense.

"No! I just mean...you're here. I thought..."

"That I died? You're not so lucky."

Cristina finally grasped that he was here, that he was alive, and she smiled...then she started to pull off his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Burke asked amused.

"Making sure you're not injured. I heard an explosion."

"Yeah, but I'm fine."

Suddenly a thought occurred to Cristina and her hands stopped moving. "Meredith? Is Meredith-..."

"She's fine too. She's getting checked out by Dr. O'Malley right now." Cristina moved to rush off, but this time Burke pulled her back. "She's going to be busy for a little bit."

Cristina nodded and smoothed down Burke's rumpled shirt. "Why aren't you somewhere answering questions and all that?"

"I just got out of a surgery, I'm covered in blood and dust, and my girlfriend has been worrying about me all day...I'm heading to take a shower."

"What makes you think I was worried about you?"

"The frown lines."

Cristina frowned. "You really aren't supposed to point those out to a woman."

Burke grinned, and more than anything it showed how exhausted he was. "I know. You were worried about me?"

Cristina smiled and little and looked away. "Just a little. After all, I gave up a great apartment for you."

Burke smiled, remembering that when all this was over, they would go home to their apartment and sleep in their bed. "That you did."

Cristina and Burke stood there, their limbs entwined in that darkened room, and felt things that neither was comfortable enough yet to tell the other. Cristina knew, and in those few seconds she knew that she loved him back. It was so strong that it scared her, because she'd never cared for someone as much as she did for Burke. To think, it'd all started with a cup of coffee.

At the door, someone knocked discreetly on the doorframe, not looking in. George's voice came through the mostly open frame. "Dr. Burke? The police are asking for you. They say they have some questions to ask."

"I'll be there in a minute." Burke ran his hand down Cristina's long curly hair, and leaned in to kiss her, intending for it to be only a brief, gentle kiss. As soon as their lips touched, it wasn't brief nor was it gentle. Their arms wrapped around each other until there was no room between them, and suddenly it was as if they were alone in the room, alone in the world. There was only each other.

Finally, Burke eased away. Cristina's eyes were glazed over, her mouth red and pouty, just screaming for him to return to it. Burke was tempted, but he knew that it was time to face his duty and go talk to the police.

"I'll be home in a couple hours. You should go get some sleep."

"Look who's talking, walking dead." Cristina quipped back, releasing her arms from around him immediately. Burke took his time.

"I mean it. You look like hell."

"What is it with you and insulting me today?"

"I'm not-..."

"Eh? Dr. Burke? The police are getting...antsy...and Cris? Mer kinda needs...some help...she's..."

"I'm coming!" Cristina called back. Reaching up, for sentimental's sake, she kissed Burke one more time, then turned to leave. "I'll be waiting for you."

"I thought I said go home?"

"You did...I'll be waiting."

"Stubborn woman."

"Obstinate man."

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