A/N: I've gone back and forth with whether or not I should continue to update this story, given what we now know. I've decided to continue it.

Their story may have ended on Grey's Anatomy but for us, the fans who love them, their story will live on in our hearts and in our fanfics. Thanks to everyone who have sent me PM's requesting updates. Sorry it took so long. To the person who promised me a castle in exchange for an update, here's your update...Now hand over the castle.

I have no interest in Grey's Anatomy and my use of the characters is done without consent. No copyright infringement intended.

Catalyst 11

It was late in the evening, when Cristina walked out of the doors of Seattle Grace Hospital and headed to her car. In the distance, she could see the sun setting and it occurred to her that the beautiful sunset could be a metaphor for her life. Her relationship with Burke was just as bright and vibrant and beautiful but like the sun, darkness overshadowed it and now it was no more. The sun, however, has a chance for renewal. Tomorrow it will rise again, just as bright maybe more beautiful. There was no chance for her and Burke. What started out so innocently had quickly turned into something else which she could not define. It was that indefinable something that had brought her to tears earlier and left her feeling sad and empty. If only he could understand she thought, that even though she was afraid of committing to a relationship with him, she needed him, and something tells her that he needed her too.

At home that evening she sat on the floor unpacking boxes that had been sitting in a corner of her living room since the day she moved to Seattle. Surrounded by clutter, she was frantically rummaging through a box containing old photo albums and scrap books from her years at college. At the bottom of the box she found what she was looking for. It was a small picture frame containing a picture of the only other man for whom she had cried, her dad. She picked up the frame, removed the back of it and pulled out an old newspaper clipping. The clipping shows the picture of a small child standing by the side of the road being comforted by a police officer. The child looked scared, with tears running down her face, her arms outstretched toward what appeared to be the remnants of what used to be a motor vehicle. Printed in bold letters on that old piece of paper was the heading "Child survives horrific crash which claimed the life of her father."

Cristina stared at that clipping for a long time, then gently folded it up and returned it to its place in the back of the picture frame. No one else knows that it was there. She had found that clipping in a scrap book that her mother had hidden away from her. She doubts that her mother even knew that she had taken it. She replaced the back of the frame, and took the picture to her bedroom and placed it on her night stand. Hers she thought, would always be a lonely existence. Her father, though gone for years has always been a constant companion, but he existed only in her memory. He could not talk to her or dry her tears when she cries. The only other man who had come close to replacing her father was Burke, and he rejected her. He couldn't understand that she was giving him all that she was capable of giving to someone else, for every bit of herself she gave him, he wanted more. She was on the verge of telling him that although she couldn't commit to an exclusive relationship with him. She would always be there, even for sex. But he wanted more than sex and so she reverted back to being that small, scared little girl standing at the side of the road. A little girl who since that day of accident had built a wall around her heart allowing nothing or no one to intrude, not even her own mother. A child who learned early in life that to love someone can be extremely painful when that someone leaves, and she was not willing to revisit that pain.

Her routine remained the same day after day. She worked hard and on rare occasions when she didn't sleep at the hospital she went home to a messy and lonely apartment. Days turned into weeks and as time distanced her from him, she began to accept that he would not change his mind. He was rigid and if he couldn't have all of her he didn't want any part of her.

If only she knew that he was missing her just as much as she was missing him. He had spent weeks trying to forget her and had finally given up. Forgetting her was not an option. She was everywhere, in his dreams, in his OR but mostly in his heart. When she wasn't assisting on a surgery, she was sitting in the gallery observing. A simple glance upwards and their eyes would meet. Sometimes she would quickly look away other times their eyes would lock and neither one wanted to be the first to look away. Sometimes he wondered if what he was seeing in those eyes were real or if he was just imagining things. He had tried to move on, after all, a couple of sleep overs at his house and two sexual encounters did not constitute a relationship. But moving on for him was virtually impossible. She was everywhere. A constant reminder of what could have been.

As time passed their peaceful coexistence at Seattle Grace continued. Late one evening he was called back to the hospital. One of his patients had been admitted to the hospital and required immediate surgery in order save his life. Burke worked late into the night operating on his patient. After finally leaving the OR, he ran into Derek Shepherd who was also working late that night. As they passed in the hallway, Derek stopped him. "Dr. Burke! What are you doing here so late?"

"Emergency heart surgery . . . what are you doing here so late?"

"Emergency brain surgery . . . very long . . . extremely complicated, the patient is still not out of the woods yet."

Burke looked at the doctor who was suppose to be his competition. He'd never seen Shepherd so unsure of himself. As doctors they were cocky but he knew where Derek was coming from. He wasn't sure if his patient would make it either so he tried to find the words to reassure his competition. "Well Shepherd, I'm sure you did your best."

Derek smiled, he didn't expect that from Burke. They were so busy disliking each other that they didn't realize how much they had in common. They were both dedicated and cared deeply about their patients.

"I did my best" Derek answered now all we can do is pray.

The two bade each other good night, and went their separate ways. It was very evident that despite their competitiveness, they respected each other as professionals.

As Derek walked away Burke headed in the opposite direction passing the OR that Derek had just exited. A couple of scrub nurses on their way home were loudly discussing Derek's surgery and how impressed they were with the new intern Dr. Yang. At the mention of Cristina's name Burke slowed his pace and waited for the nurses to get out of sight then he quietly opened the door to the OR and entered. He looked around, at first the place seemed empty. The patient was already moved to the recovery room. He looked toward the scrub room and there she was washing her hands. He entered quietly, and she turned around, looked at him, but continued washing her hands. He removed some paper towel from the dispenser and moved toward her, as he got closer he held out the paper towel to her but when she reached for it he took her hand and started to dry it. When he was finished, he took her other hand and dried that as well.

Her hand began to shake. He was making her nervous and just the mere feeling of him touching her was wreaking havoc with her nervous system. She tried to pull away but not hard enough. He was playing with her fingers, laying her palms flat against his as if he was measuring her tiny hands against his own. She didn't know what to say, could hardly breathe. He felt so familiar and for a brief moment she allowed herself to dream. Then suddenly the door to the OR opened and he let go of her hand and stepped away from her. The intruder was one of the scrub nurses from before. She looked around as if looking for someone then just as suddenly as she entered, she left. The interruption ruined the moment and Cristina took the opportunity to leave. Burke leaned against the wall of the scrub room and closed his eyes tightly. Nothing had changed, being so close to her was all it took.

After changing out of his scrubs and checking one last time on his patient, Burke decided to try and find Cristina before going home. He didn't have to look far, she was in the on call room, their on call room, sitting on a chair as if she was expecting someone. He entered the room and closed the door. He realized that there was something about that small windowless room that captivates them both. They have had a series of firsts in that room. Here where he first kissed her, where he first had sex with her and here where he truly accepted that he was in love with her. She looked up as he entered the room but made no attempt to leave. He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. "Can we talk?" He asked her solemnly.

If his hands holding hers, did not unnerve her, his soothing voice certainly did.

"There's nothing to talk about." She said calmly, but the emotion in her voice betrayed her.

For a moment he said nothing, but he wanted to tell her she was wrong. That they had a whole lot to talk about.

"Are you happy?" His question surprised her because she was thinking the same thing about him. Although she didn't understand why his happiness would mean anything to her.

"Why would my happiness concern you?"

He didn't want to answer the question so he changed the subject. "It's quiet here tonight. You should try to get some sleep."

She didn't say anything just stared at him. There was a sadness in her eyes, something alien to Cristina. She was never the sad type, she was brash and carefree and he knew that what she was showing him, was a part of herself that she would never show anyone else. He looked toward the bed. The sheets were rumpled as if someone else had slept there. He let her go went to the bed and started to remove the sheets.

"What are you doing?" She asked, surprised.

"Changing your sheets."

He walked out of the room and moments later returned with fresh clean sheets with which he made the bed. When he was finished, he turned to her and said "come on . . . get in."

At first she hesitated but she was tired and knew that he was right, she did need to rest. She removed her shoes and got in the bed and he pulled the cover over her. He turned the lights off and was about to leave when she spoke.

"Since you insist on treating me like a child shouldn't you be reading me a bedtime story?"

"You're not a child Cristina, and I never treated you like one . . . I don't have a book. I could tell you a story though, but I'm not very good at it . . . my talents lie elsewhere."

"I'm waiting."

He turned back toward the bed but left the lights off. He brought the chair closer to the bed, sat on it and started to speak.

"I won't say once upon a time" he said. "Because I don't believe in fairy tales."

"I didn't ask for a fairy tale!"

"There is this man and this woman" he started "and they need to talk."

"They need to talk because he can't sleep well at nights when they're not talking. They need to talk because he misses her. He wonders if she misses him too. They need to talk because to him, she is like that bright spark of sunlight bursting through the dark cloudy Seattle sky after the rain. They need to talk because she has the most infectious laugh and he wants to hear her laugh again . . . He wants to hold her and run his fingers through that tangled mess she calls her hair. He wants to take care of her because he gets the feeling that right now, she's not taking care of herself. She works too much, sleeps too little . . . On the surface she comes off as tough and fearless but underneath she is sweet and she cares and she is scared . . . He wants her to know that he understands, but that it's important that they talk because he lo . . . "

"Because he's an idiot." She interrupted

"Because he is an idiot." Burke responded laughing. He knew that she was not ready to hear the ending of that last sentence, so he said "Go to sleep Cristina,"

"you know that woman you talked about"

"Yeah"

"Maybe she doesn't sleep well when they're not talking either."

"You think so!"

"Yeah" she responded sounding sleepy and sad all at once.

Without another word he got in the bed, gathered her in his arms and held her until she sleeps. Then, he gently eased her head from off his chest, rested it gently on the pillow, got out of bed and left the room.