Chapter Seventeen: Alone With Me

Preston Burke was back. Preston Burke was really back, in every way that counted. He'd successfully completed his first surgery since his own operation that day, and he'd done it without Cristina by his side. For once, this was a good thing. But his eyes flicked up to the gallery as they never had before, seeing if Cristina noticed that his running whip stitch was completed with perfection. He shyly searched for pride in her eyes when he emerged from the O.R. He was rewarded.

Now, she was. Preston Burke, surgeon extraordinaire, had returned. With him came Preston Burke, bedroom extraordinaire. Cristina lay on her back in a pool of sweat. She was quite certain she wouldn't need any more sex for the next fifteen years. He was insatiable these days. Perhaps he'd left a few things out of his 'I am Preston Burke' speech. He needed to add, 'if you think I've left you begging for more, you ain't seen nothing yet,' or 'the time will soon come when I will ruin you for all other men.'

When she wearily turned her head to face him, he had that look in his eye. He parted his lips slightly as he looked at her.

"No!" she exclaimed, feeling some energy return. She gripped the sheet to herself, and half tumbled out of bed. "I need to be at the hospital in two hours, and I'm scrubbing in on a craniotomy. Don't you dare even think about laying a finger on me."

Grinning, he began to reach out for her. Shrieking, she turned and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Cristina never thought there'd be an occasion when she ran from the bedroom eyes of Burke. But he hadn't let up for a moment, not since the second they'd walked in the door. They'd re-christened every room of the house that night. Twice. And the bedroom several times over. She wasn't sure she'd be able to walk straight in the morning.

He tapped lightly on the door. "Cristina…"

"No! Leave me alone!"

He chuckled. "Come back to bed. I promise I won't touch you."

"I don't believe you."

Sullenly, she made a makeshift bed for herself in the bathtub, lining it with towels. She slept at an awkward angle for about an hour, and hated him in the morning.

Still, the occasional (or as was the case the night before, very frequent) screaming orgasm can do wonders do sustain a person through the day.

"Nurse Debbie is gossiping," Meredith commented, catching up to Cristina in the corridors. Cristina smirked, cracking her neck which was stiff from being in surgery. "So what else is new?"

"Not much. But Burke is walking around with a spring in his step."

She held up a hand. "Don't describe him as having a 'spring in his step.' That is so lame, and so not him."

Meredith smirked. "Fine. A swagger. And you look like hell. Sleepless hell."

Cristina rolled her eyes. But smiled wryly.

"Spill!"

"Best night of sex in my life. But there was a moment last night, when I thought there was too much."

"Cristina Yang? Oversexed? I didn't think that was possible."

At that moment, her beeper went off. She groaned when she saw who it was. "I've got to go."

She met him by the nurse's station. "You paged, Dr. Burke."

"Yes I did, Dr. Yang. I have a case you may be interested in." His eyes captured hers in amusement. Why was he so awake?

"Is that so?"

"Yes. This way."

She fell into a resentful step behind him. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so crappy at work. She cursed everyone at the moment. Preston Burke. His parents for conceiving him. Condom manufacturers. Richard Webber, for making interns come in so damn early. Derek Shepherd, for taking so long on a craniotomy. Izzie Stevens, for making Burke come back and get shot, making him lose his mojo, get it back, and thus rendering Cristina to her current state of fatigue.

She stopped abruptly. "Where is this patient?"

He turned to face her. "We're heading towards their location."

"We're heading towards the on-call room."

His mouth slowly curved into a grin. "So?"

"So? Get away from me," she huffed, turning on her heel and stalking away.

That afternoon in the E.R, a young girl came in, having fallen off her bike and impaling herself on a fence. Burke was in with her all day and half the night. Her internal bleeding was an extensive as he had ever seen. But he still managed to save her. All remaining whispers of Burke's questionable competence were effectively silenced.

He found Cristina in the locker room afterwards, as she'd watched from the gallery the whole time. "Did you see?"

"I saw."

He looked levelly at her for a moment, before capturing her lips with his, and pressing her flat against the lockers. He kissed her with a fervor and a passion that made Cristina both long for and dread the night ahead.

Preston Burke was back. God help her.

A/N We're getting close to the end  So I'm trying to be much better and update faster. As always, thanks for all your thoughts and reviews.