I have no interest in Grey's Anatomy and my use of the characters is done without consent. No copyright infringement intended.
The legend of the Thorn Bird was borrowed from the book of the same name by Colleen McCullough
Catalyst Twelve
That night for the first time in weeks he slept peacefully. There was no sad trumpet playing, no dreams of her, just a deep peaceful sleep. When he awoke early the next morning, he felt more alive than he had felt in a long time. He made breakfast, enough for two, and packed some in a small plastic container and placed the container in a paper bag. His short commute to the hospital was over before he knew it and once he arrived, he went to the on call room looking for her, but she wasn't there. He decided to look out front of the hospital where he had found her one morning soon after they met. He remembered that she once told him that she liked sitting there early in the morning, breathing the clean air. His instinct served him right. She was sitting there, alone, a cup of coffee in her hand. He approached her quietly and handed her the bag. At first she didn't take it, just looked at him.
"It's breakfast" He said, taking her hand and placing the paper bag in it.
She took the bag and attempted to leave but he wouldn't let her.
"Cristina, don't leave, . . . eat your breakfast."
She opened the bag and held her head down trying to avoid his eyes. She secretly marveled at the fact that he knew what she liked to eat for breakfast.
"How's your patient from last night doing?" He asked, trying to get her to talk.
"He's fine" She responded. "He survived the night. That's all we can ask for."
"How's your patient from last night?"
"He is much better" Burke answered. "He's responding well. He'll have to hold off on running any marathons anytime soon but he'll be good as new in no time."
A smile creased the corners of her mouth. He was so sure of himself she thought, so good at what he does.
Another silence followed but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, they both had things to think about.
"Do you think that we can ever be friends?" he asked solemnly.
She contemplated the question before answering. "I've had many friends over the years, Burke, I've never slept with any of them."
"Answer the question Cristina."
"You're not my boss when we're out here Burke."
"I don't want to be your boss at all."
She got up off the bench. "It's getting late . . . rounds starts in fifteen minutes."
"Can I see you later?"
"No"
"Cristina!"
"What?"
"About last night"
"Last night ended hours ago . . . It's a new day . . . Besides, you're a lousy storyteller."
"I told you that I wasn't good at telling stories."
"Your story lacked balance." She said seriously . . . "You told it from the possessive male perspective. What he wants . . . how he feels . . . Maybe, your guy should give some thought to what the woman wants."
"That's all he's ever thought about."
"No" she answered, "It's not . . . If he had thought about it at all, he would never have left her alone in that bed last night."
Too shocked by her words to utter a reply, he stood there, his mouth wide open but no words came. She was gone and all he could do was smile and take comfort in the knowledge that last night was not a fluke. She wanted him to stay.
Throughout that day Cristina's demeanor changed. Her kindness, even to Alex, surprised everyone but no one commented on it. No, one except Meredith who couldn't resist teasing her friend about her cheerful mood, especially because that friend had been on call all night.
"So, you took a happy pill this morning!" Meredith asked teasingly.
"What?"
"You . . . You're happy and cheerful and you smiled at Alex during rounds. There's nothing interesting in terms of surgeries today, so what gives?"
"Mind your own business Meredith."
"I'm trying to Cristina, but your mood is throwing me off . . . are you keeping secrets from me?"
"Do you think that you're the only one around here who is allowed to have secrets?"
"No" Meredith answered "but you know all of my secrets."
"That's because you talk too much."
"Cristina!"
"What? What's with people calling me Cristina today . . . Whatever happen to Dr. Yang?"
"Yes, whatever happened to Dr. Yang?" Meredith asked loudly.
"Meredith, keep your voice down."
"Are you sleeping with someone?" Meredith asked
"Yes, I'm sleeping with someone are you satisfied."
"Who?"
As Meredith asked the question the locker room door opened and Alex entered.
"I'm sleeping with Alex Meredith . . . Go ask him."
Meredith approached Alex. "Alex, are you sleeping with Cristina?"
"Hell no! I'd rather sleep with a porcupine,"
Cristina smirked. " Is that why you've been scratching yourself all day, Alex, porcupine quills stuck to your body?"
Shut up Yang, I came in here to tell you that Dr. Bailey is looking for you. Apparently Dr. Burke wants you to scrub in on his surgery. Everyone around here gets to scrub in except me.
"That's because you're evil Alex."
"Yeah, and you deserve Burke. You're both uptight and obsessive. Maybe you could try sleeping with him because it's not gonna happen with me."
"Excuse me while I vomit." Cristina replied and quickly left the room.
Scrubbing in on Burke's surgery was the best part of her day. When she entered the OR, the scrub nurse was in the process of helping him with his gloves. He looked up as she entered the room and although he was wearing a surgical mask, she was sure that he smiled
The surgery was long and tedious but Cristina reveled in it. It was the kind of surgery for which she craves. Burke's expertise impressed her and she spared no words when complimenting him afterwards.
He didn't say much, there were too many people around, but just before they left the operating room, he came close to her and slipped something in the pocket of her scrubs. She was too shocked to react. He had never done anything so bold before, and she couldn't deny the excitement she felt as his hand traveled down her pocket. When he left the OR, she looked around to reassure herself that no one had seen the exchange between them. She knew, however, that she had nothing to fear. He wasn't reckless and would never do anything to jeopardize their position at the hospital.
In need of privacy, she went to the ladies room, removed the note from her pocket and read it. "I'm making you dinner tonight." He wrote, "please, come."
The ride to his apartment took longer than ususal. She drove slowly and almost turned back once. The excitement of returning to the place where she had shared so much with him was overwhelming. It had been weeks since she'd been there and she never dreamed that she would ever return. Memory of her last night there was still very fresh in her mind and it filled her with a strange euphoric feeling. The sound of sirens blaring, penetrated her thoughts. There was an accident up above and she was stuck in traffic.
Burke had gotten off work early and headed home stopping briefly at the market to pick up fresh vegetables. He still wasn't sure that she was coming but he was hopeful. He showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a simple t shirt. He looked so different without his scrubs on. Every muscle in his body seemed visible. Although his apartment was always neat and tidy, he checked it many times over to make sure everything was in its rightful place. It never occurred to him that Cristina could care less about the appearance of his home. He checked his watch. It was getting late. He put a CD on and turned the music down low. Dinner was done and still no Cristina. He scolded himself for believing that she would come. She never said that she would. He looked at the table set for two and the bottle of wine in the cooler. Then he went to the kitchen, turned the stove off and went to his bedroom. She wasn't coming and he had just lost his appetite.
The knock on the door was almost inaudible, and it took a few knocks before he heard it. Most of the apartment, except the bedroom was still in darkness. When he opened the door, she seemed surprised.
"I'm sorry I'm so late she started, I . . . "
"It's ok" He said reassuringly. "You're here. Nothing else matters."
As she entered the darkened room, he apologized and started going around the room turning on lights. The light in the dining area was left off but there were candles on the table which just needed to be lit. He got her seated in the living room then went to the kitchen to reheat their meal.
Everything about their dinner was wonderful, the food, the wine, the atmosphere. She had almost forgotten what a good cook he was. They talked all through dinner, about everything medical and nothing personal. When their meal was over, he offered her another glass of wine but she refused. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" She asked jokingly.
"I've seen you drunk . . . It's not a pretty picture."
"Why" she asked suspiciously
"Why what?"
"Why am I here tonight?"
"You're here to have dinner with me."
"Dinner is over."
"There's always dessert." While he talked, he started to clear the dishes from the table.
"I'm not going to be your dessert." She warned. "So wipe that smile off your face."
"That's okay...I'll be yours."
"Can I help with the dishes?" She offered but he declined.
'No, I have a dishwasher which I hardly ever use . . . Might as well put it to use tonight.
He loaded the dishwasher and they moved from the dining area to the living room. The calm they experienced during dinner was now replaced by sheer nervousness. In the background the music played soothingly, and she sat on the couch and stared out the window. It was a beautiful night and in the skies she noticed a few stars and a beautiful full moon. How ironic she thought. The song playing in the background was called shoot the moon and here she was staring at the most beautiful full moon. She was so deep in thought that she didn't notice that he had come to stand directly behind her. He didn't say anything. He just stood there watching her, watching the moon. He moved around the couch and was now in front of her. Sitting on the floor, he took her hands in his and said "We need talk."
She knew it was coming, knew that at some point they would have to discuss what it was that was happening between. She refused to think of it as a relationship. It was different and unique and it had taken a hold of her and refused to let her go. It made her want to push him away one minute and crave his presence the next.
"I heard of a legend" she said. "About a bird who searched for a thorn tree and seeks out its sharpest spike on which it impales itself, and as it dies, it rose above the pain and sang more sweetly than any other bird. The legend states that the bird gave up its existence for that one chance of singing sweeter than any other creature . . . The bird was stupid."
"The bird was not stupid." He countered. "I've heard of the legend too and the moral of it is that the best of everything we want, everything we have, comes at a cost, and sometimes that cost is quite painful."
" I'm not like the bird" She admitted a little sadly. "I can't give up any part of me for any reward no matter how sweet."
"I know Cristina . . . but if you lock yourself off for fear of losing it, you're missing out on some wonderful possibilities. . . . Besides, impaling yourself on me won't be so bad . . . I'm sure that I can make you sing sweeter than that insipid bird."
Her laughter echoed across the room, it was infectious and carefree and at that moment he realized how much he missed hearing her laugh.
He got up. Still holding her hands, he pulled her out of the couch and into his arms. "Dance with me" he whispered in her ear.
She looked at him alarmed. "You don't dance!"
"There is so much you don't know about me." He laughed.
He drew her closer in his arms and as Norah Jones Sang "Come away with me" they danced as if they were the only two people in the world. When the song ended, they didn't even notice. A new song started, something about a long day being over and she rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. In that moment she wasn't the intern and he wasn't the surgeon, they were just a man and a woman who against all odds, found each other.
After a while she whispered in his chest. "I have to go home."
"You are home."
She rested her head back in that familiar place against his chest. The music is wonderful she thought, but nothing beats the sound of his heart.