Burke:

Preston Burke was not a man who broke the rules. It wasn't the sort of upbringing he'd had. His mother and father were firm but fair. He'd never felt the need to be a rule breaker to gain notoriety. He was always naturally popular, and easily attracted friends. He was a hard worker – his mother instilled that in him and his younger sister, Katrina. He was good at his trumpet, at his basketball in high school, and at Tulane and Johns Hopkins. He was good at his studies. He practiced.

He was shy when he was younger, but learnt to take pride in his achievements. He still called it pride, though some would call it arrogance. But he was always by the book. On the basketball court, he was a fair player. He never cheated once in his academic career. He had a keen sense of family, and was protective of his younger sister. He operated rigidly within the rules of the surgery game. And he excelled.

He'd never understood why people broke the rules, not until he became a rule breaker himself. And he'd never expected it to be such a rush.

That wasn't his motivation – he wasn't being a risk taker, suddenly enjoying living on the edge. It was just an interesting byproduct of his new…situation.

If he'd thought she was intriguing before, he'd been wrong. He couldn't for the life of him figure her out now. They'd slept together in the on-call room three times now, within a five day period. It had been a while since Burke had experienced such great sex. But it was already more than that. She captivated him. They'd already established a perfectly regimented routine of her avoiding him, then readily acquiescing to sex with him.

And the looks. It was there, unsaid, all the time, in her eyes. He couldn't help himself, he had to meet her eyes every time she was near her. Often, she was already looking at him. It was enough to make him want to sweep her up and carry her to the on-call room right then and there

This couldn't end well, he knew that. Until he was ready to face that, he just made sure they were careful.

He knew that he was more relaxed about her new arrangement than she was. Not because he was the attending and she was the intern. He thought it had more to do with the fact that not many people got close to her.

He went in early one morning, needing to finish off some paperwork before rounds. And if he happened to see her, that would be a welcome addition.

He had his hands in his pockets as he strode into the foyer, and spotted her waiting by the lift. She was in jeans and a fitted red shirt, her jacket slung over one arm. He went to stand next to her. "Good morning."

She glanced over at him, then back at the lift. "I wouldn't call it good." He chuckled, having grasped the fact that she wasn't a morning person.

"Caffeine hasn't kicked in yet?" he asked as they both stepped into the lift.

"Hell no. I have no idea how I'm going to wake up this morning." As the doors shut, she immediately turned to look at him. "I didn't mean...that." He just grinned, and after a moment, a familiar look entered her eyes. "But all the on-call rooms are occupied by everyone from last night…" she trailed off again.

Burke considered for a moment, then pushed a button. "The labs will be empty for another hour or so."

Cristina smirked. "Fine. But I don't have much time before rounds, so it'll have to be quick."

"I'm familiar with the concept," he replied. They stepped off the elevator then walked to the furthest lab, his hands still buried in his pockets. He opened the door for her, and she stepped inside. He locked it as she dropped her bag. His mouth hurriedly met hers in what was now a familiar dueling of tongues. He buried his hands in her hair as she began to unbutton the front of his shirt. As he trailed kisses up to her ear, his fingers sought the button of her jeans. As he tugged them down, she pressed her hips against his, and he groaned. He hoisted her up onto the bench, and she laughed, bringing her lips to his neck. He quickly unbuckled his belt, and pulled her close.

Afterwards, she swiftly pulled her jeans back up. "Oh, that was definitely worth being late for."

He raised his eyebrows in amusement, as he tried to get his breath back. He was still in disbelief that he'd just had a quickie in the lab. "Thanks." As he pulled he buckled his belt, he asked, "should we…talk about this?"

She looked at him incredulously. "Yeah, definitely," she replied, shouldering her bag and walking out.

He exhaled, then crossed to the bin. He'd made sure they were safe ever since that first time, when everything had happened so quickly. He'd ascertained that she was on the pill, but still, he as a doctor knew the risks more than anyone.

He made his first slip-up that day. He assisted her in gaining brownie points with Bailey so that she could scrub in on Annie's surgery. If anyone was going to go into an excited frenzy over a record breaking tumor, it was Cristina.

He was somber after Annie's death. Cristina was refusing to even talk to him, and he'd helped her scrub in. What was between them had nothing to do with their respective surgical rankings; but he'd helped her anyway.

He found her in an on-call room, stretching her arms and back.

He cleared his throat. "I'm not doing you any more favours. This was it."

She groaned as she collapsed onto the bed, giving a typical Cristina response. She wasn't apologetic, or remorseful, or grateful. She just bitched about holding a tumor for twelve hours.

He leant back against the wall, studying her face. She was the most enigmatic person he'd ever met. "What is this…that we're doing here?"

She propped herself up on her elbows. "You need a definition? You really want to be that guy?" she asked incredulously.

Holding her gaze for a moment, Preston Burke decided that there were better alternatives before him at the time, than being that guy.

"Lock the door," he said.

"You lock the door."

"Fine. I'll lock the door."

She pulled her scrub top over her head, thinking she knew what was coming. He gently maneuvered her to lay on her stomach.

"What the…?" she asked, starting to struggle.

"Relax. You've been holding a tumor for twelve hours, or so you just informed me. You could do with a massage."

"Oh…ok." She lay her head on her arms, and Burke flexed his fingers. He gently kneaded her back, starting at the shoulders, and slowly working his way lower. He concentrated on the areas that were particularly tense, applying greater pressure, and a noise escaped her throat. He'd intended this to be a comforting act, one to relieve pain. He was a surgeon, that's what he did. But she undid him. Which was why he found her responsive noises completely arousing, and the massage quickly turned sensual.

Later, as they got their breath back, her face curved into a smile. "What massage class did you learn to do that in? I think I want to enroll."

Burke laughed.

He was a serious man, a somber man, a skilled man. When his sense of humour emerged, the most he did was smirk.

But for Cristina, he laughed.

A/N Thanks so much for the reviews! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this, especially for something that's ended up being much longer than a oneshot.