When they arrived at the car, Owen handed Cristina his keys without a word, then got into the passenger seat. The silence wasn't awkward; words just weren't necessary. Talking about what had happened seemed a violation of something intangible that they would be better off mulling over alone. Besides, his eyes spoke volumes. He looked drained and exhausted, but gone was the wired and tense energy he had carried with him on the way over. Once inside the car, he leaned his seat back slightly and closed his eyes for the duration of the ride back to her apartment. The fact that he didn't feel a need to speak or explain anything felt like a good thing to Cristina, and the time passed in comfortable silence.

She pulled up to the curb outside her apartment. ""You're coming in." It wasn't a request. No way I'm letting him go off by himself tonight.

"Yeah, I am." He got out of the car.

"Are you starving? Because I'm starving. I'll order in." She led the way upstairs.

"Yeah, I am," he said again, "but I'm not sure if I can eat…if that makes any sense. Go ahead. Get whatever you want and I'll probably have something. I need to get out of this uniform first, though." She raised an eyebrow at that, and he gave her a tired little smile as he headed into her room to change. She figured nothing was likely to happen tonight, but it was nice to get some of the banter back after such an intense afternoon.

A little while later, after ordering Chinese from the takeout place down the street and pouring two glasses of red wine, Cristina saw Owen emerge from the bedroom. He was back in civilian clothes – jeans and a dark grey T. His hair and goatee were slightly damp, as if he had dunked his head under the faucet. He looked exhausted… and sexy as hell. Patience, Cristina, she admonished herself. She patted the bar stool next to her and handed him a glass of wine as he sat down.

"Ok if I crash here tonight?"

"Of course." She was relieved. As if I was going to let you go home alone…

"Good." He downed his whole glass of wine in a few swallows.

"Uh, wow... You want a refill, or should I just give you the bottle?"

"Sorry…" he smiled sheepishly, "I needed that." The warm glow from the wine was already beginning to seep into his system. "Refill, please. And I guess I'll be having that food after all."

The doorbell rang.

"Let me get this, " Owen got up and pulled out his wallet. "I owe you one."

------

Cristina sipped her wine and watched Owen put away most of the rest of the bottle during dinner, but the only effect she noticed is that he seemed to get more and more relaxed. Relaxed is good, she thought. I've never seen him relaxed.

He helped clear the dinner debris and then turned to her. "Listen, I need to crash… more than I've needed to in a long time, and the couch was… entertaining," he raised an eyebrow, "but any chance I could use the bed tonight?"

"Uh, yeah… sure. No problem. Callie should be back soon anyhow."

"Let's go in, then. I can't deal with more people tonight."

"Um, you sure you want me in there? I mean, if you need some privacy… "

He smiled at her as if she had said something completely crazy, "Yeah, I'm sure… C'mere."

"What?" she looked at him suspiciously.

"Come on..." he gestured her over. She stepped closer and he linked his hands around the back of her neck and looked her in the eye. "Thank you."

"No big deal. It's just a little takeout, and you paid for it anyway…"

"No," he kissed her very gently, then leaned back and met her startled gaze with his intense blue one, "Thank you. Not for the wine. Not for the food. Not for the bed… For today. For everything." She felt herself sink into the depths of his blue eyes, and it took her a moment to realize he was still talking. "I've been wondering all evening if I should find a way to just take you to bed tonight…" he continued. "I've never actually slept with a woman without sleeping with her, and here we are on our way to doing it again…"

"It's ok… I wasn't… " Cristina interrupted.

"Shut up." He gave her another brief kiss. He tasted of red wine and soy sauce. "I've got something I need to say… and I need you to just let me say it." He paused for a minute and then continued. "No woman has ever done something for me like what you did for me today. That had to be very hard for you… You hardly know me, really, and you got right in the trench with me. You didn't get pissed at me when I asked you to give me some space. You just stuck around and waited… I value that more than I can probably ever express to you… You've been doing all the giving and I've just been taking what I need, and I want you to know I really appreciate it."

"It's nothing, really. I…"

"I thought I told you to shut up, Dr. Yang," he smiled and kissed her again, this time a little longer and deeper. Cristina was doing her best to keep her hands to herself, but her resistance was flagging. She laid a hand on his chest and leaned into the kiss.

Owen broke it off and leaned his forehead against hers. "Stop. Stop... Listen. There's plenty more I could take from you tonight, but not a damn thing I have to give you right now. There's a big empty hole in my gut and I'm feeling numb and… I could do it… I could definitely do it. Part of me really wants to do it. If it was anybody else, I probably would do it… and… I can't bring myself to take one more thing from you tonight without giving something back. That's not how I want it to be when we finally… get together… and trust me when I say I have nothing to give back right now."

Cristina pulled away. "I've got an early surgery anyhow, so I'd better get some sleep too." No use in making him feel bad, she thought. His mind was clearly made up, and if she was honest with herself, he was making sense. She wanted him fully present and accounted for when they... got together.

The sound of a key turning in the lock impelled both of them to bolt for her room and shut the door. Once inside, she turned to him, " Are you on tomorrow?"

He shook his head. "Off tomorrow, on call tomorrow night. I have an appointment before I go in… " he hesitated before continuing," …with the shrink."

"Good. That's good, right?"

"Yeah, I think that's good. We'll see."

------

Owen slept like a dead man – and that was definitely a good thing… better than good. It was a fantastic, almost unbelievable gift, and he felt like weeping with relief over the miracle of a single dreamless stretch of over 8 hours. He had begun to believe he would never have that experience again. When he awakened fully, he realized that Cristina was already gone. The clock read 8:30am.

He smiled as he recalled the way she had backed up against him a bit shyly once they were in bed. She was a heat-seeker with shockingly cold feet, and he was happy to share his excess warmth with her. He had turned on his side and draped his arm over her, entwining his fingers with hers, his head buried in her hair, and they had both fallen asleep like that. Now he turned on his side and inhaled the magic of her scent from her pillow... and made himself a promise:

The next time we hit these sheets, there's going to be some action.