Chapter Three: Burke

Burke was fuming as Meredith left the O.R. What the hell had she been thinking? She had great potential, and had perhaps blown her career before it even started. She could have told him anytime about her slip, but did it in front of Mr. Patterson. And it hadn't even been her fault! Mrs. Patterson ventricle wall burst – she hadn't been the cause of that. But it may end up being her ruin anyway.

It preoccupied his mind a lot of the day – he didn't want Dr. Grey's career ended. People needed to realize that doctors weren't infallible, they were just as privy to mistakes as the average mortal. Sometimes doctors themselves needed reminders of that. He was abruptly pulled from his reflection when he encountered Cristina. She glanced at him, but said nothing. He cleared his throat.

"Dr. Yang."

"Dr. Burke."

He didn't have any idea what she was thinking. She was so incredibly guarded. He had a feeling that scene in the stairwell had been a momentary slip, but now all defenses were back up. She made some inane comment about the complicated bypass graft surgery, and he assured her he could handle it. She needed to at least know this about him, no matter what else she thought.

It had already been a long day when Bailey sought him out that night.

"Dr. Burke, I need a moment of your time."

Burke smiled at her tiredly. "I thought you'd at that bash of your interns by now?"

Bailey cracked a small smile. "A bash? It's still called a party, Dr. Burke."

"Are you insinuating something unflattering about me? My age, perhaps?"

"No, sir." He face turned serious, and she pulled out a file to show him. He took it, curious. "This is the file of a Mrs. Graves, the woman who had a towel extracted from under her lung earlier today. We believe it was left there after her last surgery with us."

Burke flipped open the folder, and was confronted with his name staring at him from the page. Oh, he remembered this patient. The awful feeling of wondering if he'd studied the body cavity closely enough. He was distracted as Bailey took the file back. "I'm sorry, Dr. Burke."

"How's the patient?"

"She'll make a full recovery, now. But she's had a very unpleasant five years. I wanted to show you before going to the Chief. Shall we?"

Burke's head snapped up. "Let me do it, Dr. Bailey." He held out his hand for the file. She clearly hesitated. "I will do it," he pressed. "I'd just prefer to find the right time."

She handed him the file. "Ok, Dr. Burke."

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"Just Dr. Yang, she found the file. She'll keep quiet until…this is resolved."

With that, she walked out, and Burke reopened the file, feeling numb.

He stayed at the hospital well into the night, staring blankly at the folder in his hands. His reflections about Meredith earlier in the day seemed somewhat ironic right now; as this was the rudest confrontation with his own fallibility as a surgeon he'd ever experienced. He agonized over what horror his carelessness had inflicted on Mrs. Graves. He'd intended to save her life, but he'd been destructive. He sighed deeply, and flipped the folder closed.

He slowly paced the halls to gather his possessions, and head home. How was he going to find the right time to tell the Chief? This could do more than harm his reputation. As he changed out of his scrubs, a further unsettling thought came to him – what must Cristina think of him? Was that what the look had been, when he asked her about the bypass graft? He groaned, not even wanting to consider why this bothered him so much. His only thought was that she probably wouldn't accept any more coffee from him. Not after this.

As he steeled himself walking into the Chief's office with Meredith the next morning, Burke knew things were said of him. About his arrogance, his overconfidence. And perhaps these things were true. But at his core, Preston Burke was honourable, and honest. So he was ready to do what he had to do, for both himself and Grey, in the next hour or so.

Though he pined after the man's job with every fibre of his being, Burke considered that perhaps the better man had the job, as he left Richard's office. He didn't know if he would have been so lenient, had he been chief, and someone had made a mistake of this magnitude. He'd sternly talked to the headstrong hospital lawyer, protecting both him and Meredith.

Richard stopped him at the door, as Meredith walked towards the anxious interns. "Dr. Burke, thank you for your honesty. Let there never be a repeat of this?"

Burke nodded. "Thank you, sir." And shook his hand. He then looked over to where the interns were, to find only one standing there.

She was looking at him in a way he hadn't seen before. What was that…admiration? Relief? He hoped Meredith had given him a good report, so she didn't completely despise him. She quickly ran to follow the others, and Burke turned to face a hellish today. A patient with not one but two collapsed lungs awaited him in the O.R.

Then, he faced what he'd been dreading. He pulled off his scrub cap as he paced the halls until he came into Mrs. Graves' room. George was talking with her, and wordlessly retreated to the corner at the sight of Burke, under the pretense of filling out her chart.

"Mrs. Graves? My name is Dr. Burke."

"Oh yes, I remember you. You're one of my handsome doctors from last time."

He sighed heavily, and did something he never did. He sat on her bed. "That's right, I am. Mrs. Graves, I'm the one that left the towel in you during your last surgery."

"Oh," she met his eyes, and Burke read some of the pain of the last five years in her tired eyes. "I can't begin to tell you how truly sorry I am, Mrs. Graves. It was a careless error on my part that I'm sure has caused you immeasurable discomfort that I can not begin to comprehend."

"You know, no-one believed me when I said I'd quit smoking. But I did." She looked at him severely, over the top of her lenses.

"You're obviously a very strong woman. I can only imagine you'd have to be, to endure what you've been through."

The corners of her mouth twitched. "Alright, there's no need for flattery, young man. I already have a gentleman caller, I'm off limits." She smiled now, and Burke shifted, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Relax, I'm not going to sue. You have tough jobs, and I appreciate that. Plus, I've been treated well here." She nodded to where George was pretending not to watch in the corner. "But just stay away from towels in the future, ok? In fact, stay away from all types of linen, just to be on the safe side."

Burke gave her a small smile. "I'll do my best. Thank you for your generosity, Mrs. Graves."

"Yes, well. It's my bed time now, and it looks like it's yours."

Burke nodded, and stood up. "Dr. O'Malley, a word outside?"

George followed him, to outside her room. "I want to thank you for your care of Mrs. Graves. She's been through a trauma, and was obviously well-comforted. And you may have prevented a lawsuit."

"As much as I care about the hospital, sir, that wasn't my primary concern when taking care of Mrs. Graves."

"I know, O'Malley. You care about your patients, that's a good thing."

"Thank you."

Burke nodded, then tiredly sought out the closest on call room, ready to get as much sleep as was possible that night.

He found an empty room, and closed the door. He removed his shoes, and swiftly pulled his scrub top over his head. He stretched out his arms against the top bunk and leant his head forward, exhaling slowly. He was trying to process the day. It was one of the most challenging he'd faced in all his years as a surgeon.

He raised it again when he heard the door open, and wordlessly watched as Cristina entered. Her eyes searched his face, and she was obviously struggling with what to say. Her next action was what started his internal conflict. She locked the door, and Burke felt his control slipping. He knew he only had a few moments before potentially leaping off a cliff. And god, the landing could hurt.

She was struggling just as much as he was. He was still frozen to the spot. "Thanks for the coffee."

This was the moment. Where Cristina, the intriguing bundle of contradictions stood before him waiting. The hardass, headstrong, intern. The intern something inside his head warned, but he had already decided. He knew she'd be intoxicating even before he took that first step towards her.