disclaimer:

I do not own the rights to the characters used or to the song lyrics used. This fanfic is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe on the rights of anyone, either the people who own the songs or lyrics used or the owners of the characters depicted in this story. Thank you everyone who has taken the time to offer advice or review the story.

Owen was walking by the elevator on his way out of the building when the doors opened. He looked, hoping to see Cristina Yang, but instead got an eyeful of Derek Shepherd. "Oh, Hello Dr. Hunt," Derek said, exiting the elevator.

Owen nodded. "Dr. Shepherd. You headed home, too?"

"Derek. Well, my girlfriend abandoned me for girl's night so I was going to head across the street for a drink."

Owen nodded, falling into step next to Derek. "I'd tell you to call me Owen but honestly most everyone calls me Hunt. Either works, though. The girlfriend is Meredith Grey, right? You're seeing Dr. Grey?"

Derek glanced over at him, sensing the man's hesitation. He had seen Hunt talking to Derek's patient's daughter in the hall, seen them embrace. He'd looked uncomfortable and a little shell-shocked when the woman had hugged him, and his negative reaction to the embrace became more pronounced when Cristina Yang appeared.

"Why don't you come with me, across the street?"

Owen looked up in surprise. This entire hospital was a relationship breeding ground. Friends. Lovers. Couldn't a man just work a shift and go home? But he didn't want to go home, not tonight. He needed someone to talk to. And he couldn't talk to Cristina. She was masterfully avoiding him. Owen put his hands in his pockets, then nodded, grateful and touched.

As they exited the hallway Derek talked. He talked about coming to Seattle Grace not that long ago. Coming from New York, adjusting to the lifestyle. He asked questions of Owen, and Owen found himself relaxing with each step that brought them closer to the bar.

"I couldn't help but notice you and Cristina today." Owen felt himself smiling. The man didn't waste time, they hadn't even gotten to the bar and he was already fishing for information.

"She's upset with me."

"Personal or professional?"

"Personal."

"They're hard women, Cristina and Meredith. They're hard women to get to know. They're hard women to do right by. They expect a lot. Sometimes they expect things that aren't reasonable."

"She's being unreasonable. The whole thing is ridiculous. She's ducking into stairwells to avoid me, refusing to discuss anything. She's acting like a child."

Derek laughed. "Well, if that's what you're going to say to her, let me know. I'd like advance tickets."

Owen shook his head and pulled open the door. The warmth of the bar was like an embrace. He hadn't realized how cold it was outside until it was over, and they were protected against the wind. "I just want an opportunity to talk it through with her. The woman is exasperating."

Derek nodded, motioned toward one of the tables with at the back of the bar with his chin. "Looks like you'll have your chance."

Owen followed his gaze and saw her. She'd pulled her hair back, away from her face. She'd changed from her scrubs into a pale green sweater. She saw him, and for a second looked unsure. But she nodded at him, a silent greeting. He was inexplicably relieved by this simple gesture of acknowledgement. That was a step forward. He realized then that Cristina hadn't mentioned any planned girl's nights, and it was probably an impromptu occasion, as response to what happened earlier. He had real hope then, hope that Cristina had opened up to Grey and Torres, who sat at the table with her, had been willing to talk to someone about the relationship that was forming between them. But the same hope had him scared shitless.

After an extended pause in the doorway, when it became obvious to Derek that that Owen's feet were stuck in place, he looked at him questioningly.

"Hunt?"

"Maybe we should go somewhere else," Owen said. "It's girls' night. She's upset."

Derek leaned into him, a verbal push absent of any real force, he quietly said, "This is one of those moments that count. She's going to remember this moment. You need to make the right decision, here. You want to go, we'll go. But this woman…I know this woman. I don't recommend walking away."

Owen nodded, and they moved forward into the bar. It was a busy night, a loud night, and as they got closer Cristina's face softened. Torres was standing to leave, leaning over and saying something to Cristina as she slipped on her coat. Cristina nodded, acknowledging Torres, but her eyes didn't leave his.

"Hello. Goodbye." Torres said to both men as she forced a smile. The situation was making them all uncomfortable.

Meredith scooted her chair over, closer to Cristina. Derek picked up her coat, and her bag. He put a hand on her back, between her shoulder blades, and rubbed. "Come on, let's go home. Hunt will make sure Cristina gets home."

Neither Cristina nor Owen said anything, barely aware there was even a conversation going on. Meredith scowled, her head falling back to rest on Derek's shoulder. "You're manipulating me. You're trying to be bossy without being bossy, and you're manipulating me with touching."

Derek kissed her gently on the temple, taking a moment to smell her hair. She smelled like she always smelled, and he took great comfort in that. "Come on home. Let's let these two talk."

Meredith leaned forward. "Will you be okay here?" she eyed Hunt warily. "With him?" Cristina nodded, so Meredith stood. She looked at Owen, kindness in her gaze this time, and put a hand on Cristina's arm. "I know I said Callie was taking sides, but you have to think she's right here. She's looking out for you, too."

Cristina nodded again. "I'll be okay, Mere. Just get some rest."

Derek slipped an arm around Meredith's waist, holding her tightly against his side, as he turned and offered his hand to Owen. "Another time."

Owen nodded agreeably, shaking Derek's hand and reaching his other arm up to pat Derek on the shoulder. "Thanks. Another time."

When they were gone, Cristina reached for her drink and took another swallow as Owen positioned himself in the chair Meredith left vacant. "Did you tell him about us?" Cristina asked, more curious than accusing.

Owen shook his head. "No, I think he guessed. I think the undeniable chemistry between us is most evident when you're eyes are shooting daggers at me." His tone was light, keeping his words from sounding like an accusation.

For her part Cristina was too distracted by the way his knee was resting between hers. The heat from his body intoxicated her. There had to be upwards of thirty people in the bar but he was all she could see. She was drawn to him. She noticed herself leaning forward, toward him, and she felt weak and exposed for doing it. Sensing weakness in herself, she pulled back, away from him. She leaned against the back of her chair.

"So you're still sitting here, with me. Does this mean we can talk about this?"

She cocked her head to look at him, studying him. "There are people from the hospital all over this place. If we're going to follow your stupid rule about keeping this a secret we should talk somewhere more private. And we're going to be the talk of the hospital tomorrow if you don't push your chair back."

Owen didn't move his chair back, instead he leaned in closer, his eyes watching her reaction as he said, "I didn't know you thought the rule was stupid. I actually didn't know it was my rule, and not our rule. I didn't know it bothered you."

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that no, she did not mean it like that. It had been an unfair and unfortunate choice of words. And she was big enough that she could apologize for poor word choice. She appreciated keeping their relationship under wraps, particularly appreciated it now that the future was so uncertain.

She opened her mouth to protest but he didn't waste a moment. He had deliberately misunderstood her, and when she opened her mouth to speak he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her. She lips parted in protest, but the alcohol in her blood mixed with his heat, debilitating her. All she could do was kiss him back, grateful for the contact, and the comfort, and the familiar taste of him. As he kissed her he brought a hand up, caressing her face with the backs of his fingers, running his thumb along the line of her jaw. It was a short kiss, just a taste, but her heart was pounding in her chest when it was over. Because of what it meant.

"I didn't mean it like that," She protested, and used the hand she'd unconsciously flattened against his chest during their kiss to push him back. She shook her head. "I didn't mean I wanted to announce this to the world."

Owen smiled, put his hand over hers and held it. "I'm sorry," he said, not even bothering to apologetic. He looked playful, the most expressive blue eyes she'd ever seen dancing with humor. He was proud of himself. "You should have been more clear."

Her own smile was hard to push away. She let him keep his hold on her hand, let him bring her palm to his lips to kiss. She was mesmerised by the look in those blue eyes, but she worked on keeping her emotions in check.

"We should go," Cristina said. "We can talk, but we should go. "