Cristina stood at the edge of the pier, looking out at the sun dance atop the water. Wind whipped her wild curls around her face and the bright glimmers of light reflecting off the water made her groan and she yanked her sunglasses down over her eyes. She rolled her eyes amongst a chorus of obvious tourists talking about how pretty it was and decided she couldn't take it anymore. She turned to walk away from the group of culture depraved morons and got a face full of green cotton and white plastic letters.

"Don't you own any other shirts?" She asked under her breath, putting her hands up to put distance between them.

"In a beautiful mood today, I see." Burke laughed a little, not giving her an inch of space.

"Eat me." She muttered, maneuvering herself around him and towards a more open area. She couldn't think with him so close and she wasn't going to let him try to side step her questions again. She was going to keep her temper. She was going to keep her voice even.

He was going to give her all the answers she wanted.

"I'd rather have a sandwich right now," He answered, moving so that his lips so that they were inches from her ear, "But if the offer still stands later, I'd love to."

Burke could see her let out a shaky breath and he grinned to himself. He knew every one of her weak spots. He was well aware that he had owed her answers, but by the end of her trip it was his full intention to be going home with her.

"In your dreams," Cristina answered after a long moment.

"Every night." He assured her with a cocky grin.

"I hate you." She hissed, walking away from him. She made it a few feet when she realized that she had no idea where they were supposed to be going. She could feel anger rising in her gut, but she tried to push it back down. He wasn't going to answer her if she got pissed off.

And it was exactly what he was trying to do.

Cristina spun on her heel to face him with a forced smile. "I'm starving." She said in an unusually high tone that made her want to kill herself. "Where are we eating?"

"Anything you want," He answered, catching up to her. He knew that he was getting under her skin and he loved it.

"Chinese,"

"Anything except that. I don't really want Chinese right now."

"You just said anything that I want, and that's what I want." She said, growing frustrated with him.



"If you want Chinese, there's only one place to get it here, and we can't get it dressed like this. We'll go tonight if you want it that badly." He shrugged. "I'll make reservations."

Cristina stopped dead in her tracks, looking at him incredulously. "You're not going to make reservations. You don't need reservations to eat at a Chinese restaurant."

"You do for this one." He said, stopping next to her. "Trust me, you'll love it. And I'll answer another question."

"You have to answer a question in order to answer another one." She reminded him, crossing her arms. "I'm not stupid. I know what you're doing with your little games."

"You do?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes. You don't have answers. That's why you're stalling. I don't even know why I'm here. I should just go home." She muttered, starting to walk again.

"But you're not." He said under his breath with a small smile. It was enough to give him hope. He caught up to her. "We'll go to this stand….right here. We'll get something and then we'll find a place to talk." He murmured, "I have answers. And I'm not stalling."

Cristina glanced up at him, "Fine." She answered her voice equally as low. Her stomach began to churn a little bit. She wasn't sure that she wanted his answers. She wasn't sure that she wanted to ask the questions. Despite everything that had happened, she did love him for once, and for Cristina that was a strong emotion to just ignore. Even after everything. Being mad was one thing, but hating him?

Hating him was impossible.

They each ordered their food and despite her protests, he paid for hers. She knew that he wouldn't have it any other way. He was a gentleman through and through, no matter what. He led her to the end of the pier where it seemed like it would be quiet and settled on the ground.

She dropped to the ground a few feet away from him and he couldn't help but laugh at her. "I can't have a conversation with you if you're sitting twenty feet away from me, Cristina."

"I'm not moving." She answered in annoyance, picking at her sandwich.

With a shake of his head, he picked up his food and moved closer to her. "It's a nice day," He spoke in a soft voice, trying to ease into conversation.

"Yeah, it's great. Why'd you leave?"

He shook his head a little, a small smile turning up the corner of his lips. "Start with something easier."

"What if I don't want to?" She challenged, "What if that's the only question I have?"



"You've already told me that you have several, Cristina. That's not going to work. Pick an easier question." He urged her softly.

"Fine. You left." She said, heaving a great sigh. "You left like a coward. Why?"

He flinched a little. Yet another question that he wasn't really looking forward to. "It was a stupid decision, but I thought that I would hurt you less. If I were gone. I thought it would be easier for you."

"That's not why you left." Cristina scoffed. She knew better. "I want real answers. Not what you think that I want to hear."

Burke was quiet for a moment. It was a real answer. But it wasn't the whole answer. He hadn't anticipated ever telling her what was going through his mind, but maybe it was what they needed. Maybe it was what he needed to do in order to get her back. "I didn't want to see what I'd done. To you. I knew that you'd leave, because you're Cristina. That's what you do. So I took what I could, and I ran. I ran as far away as I could. And I ran to the one woman I knew that you wouldn't go through to get to me. Because I didn't want to see the hurt and the pain that I had caused you. I was a coward."

Cristina looked down at her food and suddenly she wasn't hungry. She knew that this would happen. That she'd hear all the reasons, have all of her answers and then it would be even harder to pretend that she didn't care.

He watched her for a long minute and then turned away. He picked up a couple of fries from his untouched lunch and broke them into small pieces. Tossing them into the water, he watched as a hoard of hungry fish came scrambling to the top for the small morsel.

"You shouldn't do that," She said quietly.

"Since when did you become an environmentalist?" He questioned in an equally soft voice.

"You teach them to depend on others. You teach them that it's okay to rely on someone else. That it's okay to trust that their needs will always be met by someone else. And then one day, you'll stop. And that trust that you made them have in you? The dependence that you evoked? It will kill them when you're gone." Cristina's voice never betrayed the maelstrom of emotion inside her. Her eyes remained focused on the water and she spoke to him as she were truly referring to the fish swimming below.

Burke reached out slowly and pulled her dark sunglasses from her face. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes, and he knew he had a chance. "I never meant to do that to you," He murmured softly, "And if you'd let me, I'd give you the world again. And I would never take it away from you. Only death would stop me."

Cristina felt herself struggling for breath. She couldn't tear her eyes away, couldn't tear her hand from his, couldn't move. She couldn't fall for him again, either. She shoved her glasses back and stood from the ground. She calmly collected her food from the ground and dumped it into a nearby canister. "Yeah, well….I won't string them along. And you shouldn't either."



"Cristina," He whispered her name softly as he watched her.

"I'm going back to my room." She said without looking at him, "What time should I meet you?"

He was left speechless for a moment and then he realized that he'd spoke of making reservations earlier. "Is seven okay with you?"

"Fine. Whatever." She answered dismissively before walking away. She felt a little bit of wetness at the corner of her eye. Waiting until she knew she was out of his sight, she carefully reached under the protective darkness of her sunglasses and wiped it away.

She wasn't really sure which hurt worse. The act itself, or knowing that he regretted doing it.