Chapter Sixteen: A Little Time

They had it out the next morning, and that night, and several days in a row. They squabbled, yelled, hollered, bickered and screamed it out. And not just about the mistakes of the past months. They yelled about different possible diagnoses for patients, that Burke cooked her fish when she asked for beef, the fact that the alcohol cabinet was low on supplies.

Whether Cristina should use slim or super absorbent tampons. Real, classy fighting, about all the subjects that mattered.

They shout until they were hoarse, but Cristina would watch Burke in amazement. Because he'd always conclude their arguments with a smirk on his face, and a dismissive comment like, "better out than in."

The change in his temperament was mind boggling. All Cristina could deduce was that the truth had lifted a massive weight off his shoulders.

They'd argue until they exhausted themselves, and then they'd sleep soundlessly all night, entwined with each other, before waking up to go at it again in the morning.

Seriously.

They bickered as Burke was being wheeled to the O.R, the orderlies listening in stunned silence.

"I won't be home for a few days, so for godsakes, don't you dare unalphabetize the medical journals."

She rolled her eyes. "Not the sacred medical journals! Relax, I wouldn't do that."

"You did it with my CDs!"

"So I could sort them into genre! I don't want my Bon Jovi and Clash CDs to get mixed up with your Chopin's and Kenny Gs. That is so wrong. But maybe I'll go a little wild and not use coasters why you're gone."

"You think you're going to rile me. It's not going to work."

He was wheeled into the elevator. "Really. You didn't get a flash of terror at the thought of finding water rings all over the apartment when you get home?"

He bit his lip to keep from smiling. Ha! She had him.

"If you don't use coasters, we're never going to play your favourite game again."

A threat to withhold dirty scrabble? That was just cruel.

"Dr. Burke? We need to go down now," a timid orderly chimed in.

Burke met Cristina's eyes. "I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, you will."

Anyone who witnessed this exchanged figured there must still be a lot of trouble in paradise if that was how they parted before his surgery. There were no declarations of love, obscene physical interactions, or false bravado.

But that was simply Cristina and Burke. They understood each other as the elevator doors closed. All anyone had to do was see it in their eyes.

As the doors closed, Meredith came up behind Cristina. "George will be in there with Derek. He'll be fine."

Cristina turned. "Let's just hope your boyfriend is up to the task this time."

Meredith smiled. "I love that I can finally call him that. He's my boyfriend."

"Kind of not the point here."

"He's up to it. And your boyfriend is more than up to pulling through, going back to surgery to terrorize us another day."

"Grey! Yang!" came a familiar voice behind them.

"Speaking of being terrorized," Cristina muttered in an undertone, as they turned to face their resident.

"Grey, get back on your case with Sloan. Yang, to the pit."

Cristina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was still being punished for the whole tremor thing?

"You'll go crazy if you're not doing something, but you shouldn't be on the O.R floor," Bailey continued. "I'll have you paged when he's out of surgery."

Cristina gave a small, grateful smile. Maybe things weren't all going to hell after all. Bambi still didn't want to talk to her, but that just meant she didn't have to hear about Callie. So really, she was doing well.

She had a grueling day in the pit, wondering why exactly they needed a surgeon to extract a screwdriver from a guys butt. On the outside, she was in control. In actuality, she checked her pager to make sure the battery wasn't dead four hundred and sixty two times before it finally went off.

She collided with Meredith in the stairwell. She looked at her expectantly for a second, before demanding, "well?"

"No complications. Derek says it went smoothly, now we've just got to see what happens when he wakes up."

Cristina groaned. "I say that a thousand times a day to patients. But it's such a pain in the ass to hear."

She'd had the experience of sitting beside Burke in a hospital bed before, and it wasn't an experience she particularly liked. She was at a loss at what to do, and just sort of hovered near the doorway. That was until someone crashed into her back, sending her sprawling forward. She only just managed to catch herself at the end of Burke's bed. She straightened, and turned to fix the offender with a withering stare.

She found Izzie smiling at her meekly. "Sorry."

"What the hell was that?"

"Alex pushed me!"

"I meant to push George," he objected, as they all barreled into the room.

"Oh, and that makes it so much better," Izzie snapped, while Meredith rolled her eyes.

"Enough."

"Could you take it elsewhere? This is Burke's hospital room."

Alex gasped. "No! Really? Stanford sure was lucky to get a brain like you."

"Shut up, Alex," three voices chorused.