"Nice surgery, Dr. Yang." Richard Webber commented dryly, staring at his OR board, "I see you have another Appy at 10, and a small bowel resection with Dr. Grey at 2."

At first she was pleased, but when she heard she was with Grey, her attitude changed, "I can't do a small bowel resection..." Her voice grew quiet, "You want me to walk into an OR with that woman?"

"Dr. Grey is our best resident here at Seattle Grace, Dr. Yang." He turned to face her, "You would do well to remember that."

As he walked away she pressed her lips together, shuddering at the very thought of her being outdone by Meredith.

There was only one way that she was going to get the title back, and that was to outshine, outdo, and outwork Meredith in every way possible.

Which meant less time for Burke.

She hated that she had to take away from him to get her life back, to get her position back, but she secretly swore to herself that she'd make it up to him as soon as she was the best resident at Seattle Grace again.

Just as she was secretly swearing to herself, his hand caught her arm and pulled her down the hall and into a corner, "Bailey told you that you could page Dr. Grey...why did you do that alone?"

She looked to him, her brow furrowed, "Excuse me, that was textbook. I didn't need Meredith for that."

"You weren't ready to fly solo, Cristina...don't be stupid. These are people you're suturing now, not bananas, not mannequins. Human beings with heart beats." He lectured, pulling his glasses from his face.

"Obviously I was. And don't talk to me about not being ready to fly solo, because I think we both remember what happened the last time that one of us decided we were ready before we really were." She snapped, then looked away in shame.

She'd regretted it the second she said it, her mouth hanging open, but no words coming out.

"I'm glad to know how you feel, Dr. Yang." He nodded, and brushed past her.

She lunged towards him, grabbing his arm, "Burke, I...I didn't mean it like that."

"I know exactly how you meant it, Dr. Yang. If you don't mind I have some patients to see, and I'm sure you do as well." He pulled his arm away and left her standing alone in the corner.

"Dammit." she muttered, and made her mind up that she'd go the other way, she'd talk to him tonight.

Her pager went off and she glanced down at it to see it was the recovery wing's extension and her blood ran cold.

What if Burke was right?

What if she didn't do something right, what if she wrote the orders wrong. Her mind raced as she picked up pace towards the wing, breaking out in a near run. She rounded the corner into the wing, and found Debbie, "I was paged. Is my patient..."

"Your patient is fine, Dr. Yang. I didn't page you." Debbie lowered her voice, "It was her.", her finger motioning to Meredith.

"Are you serious?"

"Seriously." Debbie smiled, and turned away, a newfound respect for Cristina after her accident and recovery.

Cristina straightened her coat and approached Meredith, determined to be professional and cold, not even giving the slightest hint that she was upset with her, or that she was going to put her to shame. "Dr. Grey, you paged."

"Cristina..."

"I would prefer if we stuck to titles, Dr. Grey, anything else would be considered unprofessional." Cristina interjected, before allowing her to continue.

"Dr. Yang. I was wondering if you're okay for the bowel resection this afternoon. I saw on the board that you have an appy, and I just want to make sure that you're not going to be..."

"Going to be what? Tired? Exhausted? I don't think so. I'll see you this afternoon if that is all that you need."

"No, I just wanted to tell you that I saw your appy this morning...it was really great, Cristina. I'm glad to see you can take the shots they throw at you." She nodded, "You're going to make it, and I have no doubt in my mind."

Cristina picked a chart from the rack for her next patient and looked at Meredith, "I can take anything that anybody throws at me. It's just too bad that I got a lot more thrown at me than you got thrown at you."

She walked away from Meredith, chart in her hand, assured that her words had cut her straight to the bone.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and smiled. Only 6 hours until she'd walk into that small bowel resection.

She was ready.

Meredith Grey was going down.