EIGHT

A back booth to herself, a big dinner in front of her, a vodka cranberry and a beer on the side. Cristina settled in at Joe's bar, content to eat and drink alone. Owen was finishing up his shift and called to tell her to go ahead to Joes and get her dinner, he'd meet her there and pick up something later on, so she sat eating, carelessly looking at the door every time it opened.

Almost finished with her salad and fries, Cristina nodded when Callie approached the booth, a drink in her hand and her bag slung over her shoulder, Arizona standing a little way behind her.

"Hey." Cristina said. "Are you going home?" She stabbed her fork into her plate and grappled a large leaf of lettuce into her mouth. "I left the living room in a bit of a state..." She munched. "I'm waiting for Owen; we'll be over later... He'll clean up." She smirked.

Callie was easing herself into the booth seat opposite Cristina and not waiting a beat longer than she had to, began talking to Cristina as if they had been in the middle of a conversation. She leant forward her large breasts squashed to the table as she expressed herself.

"Look," She began, her brown eyes focussed on Cristina's face. "...I don't know what kinda love-fest you and Meredith got going on here..." She circled her fingers over the table. "...But she wasn't there, okay? She wasn't there... She was at home in bed relaxing with her little McDerek, and you and I were there..."

Cristina's brows wrinkled in confusion, her eyes moved from Callie to Arizona, who shrugged.

"...When you were gasping for air. I was there. Meredith didn't see your face. She didn't see you crying. She didn't see Owens eyes, or see his body sitting on yours choking the life out of you..."

Joe's was loud and above the chatter and clatter and clink of glasses Callie focused on Cristina's face and wiggled her finger. "....You're not the only one who has nightmares about that night. I couldn't sleep for a week! When youbroke up with Owen I was glad, because I was scared to have him in the house!"

Cristina looked down for a second and laid her fork over her plate. She had no idea what started this rant from Callie, but as Callie obviously needed to vent, she let her get on with it.

"....When you got back with him. Did you tell me? No?" Callie's head moved. "And, I just found out. I just found out. That he had treatment, that he had therapy." Callie waggled her head with a laugh. "All this time, I've been scared he might.... might.... and he had therapy and is all cured, and no one bothered to tell me!" She continued. "So I know that she is your person and all that... But when you and Owen are running around trying to please Meredith, think about it. She wasn't even there that night. I was." Callie jabbed at her chest. "Meredith came to the house that night because I called her."

Callie slid out of the booth as easily as she had slipped into it still with drink in hand and still with the bag over her shoulder, marching a path through the crowded bodies in Joes. Arizona slipped Cristina an apologetic look turned to follow her.

Picking up her fork, Cristina mouthed a forkful of lettuce, chewing slowly, but somehow her appetite was gone. She pushed the large plate away, sidelined the remaining fries and with her elbows on the table, pressed her face into her hands.