A/N: To clear up some confusion, I would like to inform everyone who doesn't already know this, that Charlotte King is not a character of my own creation. She is the amazing brilliance of Shonda Rhimes, played by KaDee Strickland, on Private Practice. My reasons for posting this under Grey's Anatomy as opposed to the crossover section were listed in the last chapter, however, I'm switching it to the crossover section to see how well it works there. With that said, I realize that this story will have a large group of haters, but I don't care. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. I will not apologize for not being a fan of Cristina and Owen. On another note, I own nothing! :D

Charlotte King hadn't been so cold before. She hadn't been so bitter against the world. But now . . . things had changed. They weren't the same without Cooper. She wanted to blame someone - him, even. The driver of the other vehicle. God. Someone. Living without him was nearly impossible. He'd been beside her through everything - Big Daddy's death, the attack, the recovery. Each and every significant event over the last few years of her life.

And now he was dead.

Every emotion within her was so utterly foreign. She was at a complete loss without him.

Her phone started vibrating in her pants' pocket. Charlotte politely excused herself from the meeting she was in and made a quick dash for the hall. Her caller ID confirmed every one of her suspicions.

It was Cooper. Of course.

"Charlotte King," she answered, knowing that the impersonal formality was not necessary but continuing to answer the same way each time he or anybody else called.

"Are you in a meeting?" he asked, excitement written throughout his tone.

"You better hope not, Mister."

"Good. Okay, so I know we're not supposed to see one another tonight, but I'm not superstitious. Meet me at the Sheraton at nine."

"Not a chance in hell, Cooper. I will not let you jinx this wedding."

"I knew you would say that," he confided, laughing. "Fine. If it makes you happy."

Charlotte found herself smiling as she entered her office, "Damn you, Coop. Now all I'm gonna be thinking about tonight is dirty, hot, night-before-wedding sex. Thanks a lot."

He couldn't contain his laughter, but managed to tell her through chuckles, "No problem."

"Hey," she began.

"Mm?"

"I love you. Now stop callin' me."

"I love yo-" Charlotte heard the sound of the phone dropping, and the line went dead. She assumed he had made the wise decision and not reached for his cell phone while driving.

Forty minutes after their phone call had ended, Charlotte received a call from from a hospital on the opposite side of town. Cooper had been in an accident. He had sustained injuries to his head and abdominal area.

Charlotte knew what came next. She had known what they would tell her.

"Mr. Freedman died at two seventeen today. We did everything that we could to try and . . . " She still heard the man's words ringing through her head as she walked the halls of Seattle Grace-Mercy West. That day would never leave her. Instead of a wedding, there was a funeral.

She left the practice only weeks later and decided to enter a new field, in honour of Cooper. Even if she didn't like kids, she could handle them. She would. For Cooper.

Having surgery every day was a new concept to her, but she liked it. The kids grew on her. She may not have been the pediatrician that he had been, but she was one damn good pediatric surgeon.

Taking into consideration that it was her first day at the hospital, Charlotte would say that she was doing well. Aside from losing her first patient, a small incident in the OR, and the subsequent cocky redhead she'd had to deal with afterward, everything was running smoothly.

A voice came from behind her, and Charlotte turned to see a young nurse with a chart in hand, "Excuse me, Dr. King? Samuel Briar is awake. The police are asking for a statement from him."

Anger flashed over he face, "They want a statement from a ten year old boy who just crawled off of his death bed? He doesn't even know his brother's dead!"

The nurse looked shocked, as if nobody had ever questioned her relayed messages before, "I'm sorry, doctor. It's procedure."

"Well screw procedure!"

"The officers tend to be quite persistent. I don't think they'll leave without talking to the patient."

Right. Charlotte may be tough, but she couldn't fight the law. Whatever the case, the police needed a statement, and they would get one. Her way and only her way, though. That's how it was going to work. The redhead Mr. I'm-too-good-to-tell-you-my-name could find his own patient. Samuel Briar was hers.

"Let me talk to him first," she told the nurse, "And tell them not to mention the fact that Milo's dead. He doesn't need to be cryin' when their tryin' to get answers."

"Alright, Dr. King. Will do."

The nurse and the doctor turned their separate ways to do their separate tasks. Charlotte's was to talk to Samuel. He needed to know what the situation was without knowing the entirety of the problem. Whatever the case, he needed his parents to be there when he found out about his brother. When she reached the boy's room, she was shocked to see that the redhead had beat her in. Oh God, she thought to herself, he better not be breaking the news.

Interrupt? Wait? Cut in? Let the man handle it? She juggled with her choices, and came to the conclusion that she had only ever known one man that could do things right. And he was dead.

"Excuse me, Dr. -" . . . oh yes. She had nearly forgotten. She didn't know the doctor's name. "Can I have a word with Samuel?"

"I'm speaking with him at the moment. He'll be at your full disposal when I'm finished." He was bluffing. Because Charlotte knew that if the man could stop her from speaking with his patient, he would. The humorous part was that the boy wasn't either of their patients. He belonged to her, him, and the tall dark-haired woman. Then again, if they were being specific, he didn't belong to any of them. His parents were on their way.

"May I have a word with you?"

The man stood, "I'll be right back, bud," he said to Samuel, then closed the room door behind him. "How may I help you, Dr. King?"

"What's your name?"

When he narrowed his eyes at her and offered only a smirk, she reached forward and roughly flipped his identification tag over to see his picture and name. "Dr. Hunt," stressing the t, "I thought that I was quite clear when I told you that Samuel Briar was my patient."

"Would you like to take this to the Chief?"

"Do I need to?"

Moments later, the two surgeons were in the Chief's office, their raised voices making him wish that he had earplugs. Neither of their words could be understood amid the chaos the two were creating. When he had heard enough shouting, Richard stood from his desk, raising his hands to shush them. They both went silent. Even Charlotte knew that when the boss gave an order, she had to listen or her job was on the line.

"Hunt," the big man's commanding voice came, "because you two seem to have such a problem with one another, your job now is to make sure that Dr. King knows the ropes around here. Give her a tour of the hospital and gain her some respect with the interns and residents. I remember that not so long ago you were the new kid on the block. You know how hard things can be."

Charlotte was quick to intercept, "Sir, I'm sure that isn't necessary. I can learn my way around just fine by myself."

"Dr. Hunt?" the Chief questioned, ignoring her plea.

"Yes, Chief," Hunt answered.

Maybe things weren't going so smoothly.

A/N: Review please! Next chapter will be again from Owen's POV. I think I'll bounce back and fourth with each chapter. More Callie/Owen friendship will come, as well. :D