A Love That Will Never Grow Old

BY GREYEYEDGIRL

chapter 2. C/B, G/A.

"Good morning."

Cristina rolled over in bed, rubbing her eyes. "G'morning," she muttered, trying to shake the sleep out of her. Her hair was sticking to her in clumps, and her skin felt clammy. She shivered.

"Are you all right? You didn't sleep very well. You were having nightmares. Are you cold?"

"I'm fine. Sorry. Still tired. You're right, I didn't sleep very well."

Burke leaned forward and kissed her forehead, brushing her hair back from her sweaty face. "I'm sorry. Do you want to go back to sleep? It's only 4:30. You don't have to be up for another hour and a half, at least."

"No!" Her voice came out frantic. She did not want to go back to sleep. She took a deep breath, trying to smile. "I'm already up," she said, her voice coming out much more calmly. "I don't know why I was having those nightmares."

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She smiled. "No."

He brushed another piece of hair off her tired face. "Okay. But-"

She sat up in bed, carefully easing her way out of his embrace. "No buts. I'm fine. Really."

He looked at her skeptically, before shrugging it off, knowing he wouldn't get her to change her mind. "Are you hungry? Coffee?"

"Yes." Her eyes lit up, and she rolled out of bed. "I think maybe I'm going to take a shower. I'm kind of...sweaty."

"You were moaning in your sleep. I tried to wake you up-"

Cristina shrugged to show it was fine.

"Just a bad dream, Burke. No big deal."

Burke studied her for a moment, but shrugged. "Fine. I'll make breakfast and the coffee. You take a shower. Ponder the difficulties of your bad dreams and making my apartment our apartment."

Cristina grimaced to herself as she stumbled into the bathroom, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

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"Sorry I was a little...grumpy this morning. I was just tired."

Burke looked up from the test results he'd been studying. "It's fine," he said dismissively. He looked back down at the lab. "Do you think you're going to have another nightmare tonight?" He asked absentmindedly.

Cristina shuddered involuntarily. Burke looked up, concerned. "I'm sorry. Are you all right?"

"Fine," she lied. He looked at her tentatively for a moment, then smiled.

"Are you on-call tonight?"

"No," he answered, now flipping through his patient's chart. She smiled. "Good. We'll both be home for our first night in our apartment."

Burke snapped the file folder shut, a clasp of air being released in the process. "Our apartment?"

"Assuming you're looking for a messy roommate who snores and has the occasional nightmare."

Burke grinned at her, leading her into a nearby on-call room where they could be alone.

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"So you lied to Burke. Big deal." Meredith smirked at her sarcastically.

"I didn't lie. I told him I moved in with him. So I still have my apartment. Big deal."

Meredith was laughing as she spoke. "You have to tell him."

Cristina did a glare/pout, stomping out of the locker room. "Didn't lie," she mumbled to herself.

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Burke was whistling as he strolled through the halls of Seattle Grace. This meant something, because he never whistled. He for some reason always associated that with Matthew Broderick doing the parade scene in "The Music Man."

"Good day?" Derek Shepherd asked, falling into sync with Preston's fast pace.

"Beautiful afternoon. Can I help you with something, Dr. Shepherd?" They turned a corner, as Burke headed for the elevator. "I need a consult. 9-year-old boy, fell during a tree-climbing contest with his best friend. I think his aorta's damaged." Burke nodded slightly to himself, changing his steps so he was following Derek.

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The apartment was quiet when Cristina stepped in that night. She didn't like quiet. It left her mind to do too many weird things. It needed to be in focus in order to work right.

Burke's jacket wasn't hanging up, she figured he must have had a late surgery. There'd been a kid with heart damage from falling out of a tree, George had been going on about it. She threw her keys onto the table before going into the bedroom and collapsing straight onto the bed.

No. That was not going to work. She needed to escape her demons, not invite them in for a tall glass of wine. She left the bedroom, heading for Burke's bookshelf. Maybe he'd have something interesting to read.

No medical texts. How could Burke not possibly have any medical texts? The amount of 'classic' books presented on Burke's bookshelf nearly nauseated her, and she made a mental note to stop by her apartment later and pick up her copy of 'Fight Club.'

Her apartment. Damn. There was still that touchy subject to deal with.

She looked around the apartment. It was Burke's in every way, it was orderly and rational and easy on the eyes. It even smelled like him. But how could she live here? That couch looked comfortable, but when she sat on it she got the feeling of it being sterilized. Everything was so deliberate.

She sat down on one of the chairs, turning on the TV. "The Bachelor." "Medium." The news. Crap.

It was an exhausting race to run, and she hardly ever won. Why did she even bother anymore?

Magazines. Magazines always amused her. She was a magazine-whore. There was a readers digest sitting on the coffee table, and she grabbed it arduously, forcing her mind to close off.

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Burke thought she was asleep when he walked into the bedroom to find her lying on her stomach in bed, a pillow sticking out from under her.

"Hey," he murmured, running his hand over her hair.

Cristina rolled over, clutching the pillow to her and looking pale. "Hi."

"You all right?" His face was ridden with concern.

"I'm fine."

"You've said that word so many times, it doesn't even sound like a word anymore."

Cristina took a deep breath, forcing her lungs to dilate and shrink rhythmically. "I was remembering something. I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. Can we just go to sleep?"

Dr. Burke shrugged, feeling her hair with the tips of his forefinger and thumb. "If you want."

"I do." She leaned forward and uncharacteristically kissed his forehead. He smiled at her, a little surprised. "What was that for?"

She smiled. "It was for not being angry about me. About everything. It was for being Preston Burke." She leaned forward and kissed him again, this time fully. He responded softly, rubbing the side of her face gently. "Night, Burke," she whispered.

"Good night."

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There was too much blood. There had never been blood before. That was what had been scary. And the fact that she hadn't been crying. Babies were supposed to cry when they got hurt.

"Cristina. Cristina!" She awoke to the feel of Preston's hands on her shoulders, trying to gently shake her away. "Burke..." she mumbled quietly.

"You were having a nightmare again." This time his face showed nothing but solicitude, as he gently caressed her face with his hand.