Catalyst Chapter 17

I have no interest in Grey's Anatomy. Characters are borrowed, no copyright infringement intended

Morning came and she rushed through rounds and without changing out of her scrubs, she drove directly to his apartment. The door was answered immediately, as if he was just sitting there, towel around his neck, waiting for her to come. When he opened the door there was a bag packed and waiting there. She looked at the bag and then at him, and before she could ask the question, he answered.

"The chief was invited to a medical conference in New York, but because of a scheduling conflict, asked me to go instead. I leave today."

She reached in her pocket, took out his phone and handed it to him, "have a safe trip" she said and turned to walk away, but he held onto her hand and gently pulled her inside the apartment.

"I made breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"What is it with you and always feeding me? ...It's as if you're trying to get me fat or something."

"That would be a beautiful sight someday" he said "but not now." He spoke without thinking but when he realized that she was looking at him strangely. He changed the subject.

He asked her to sit for a moment and she sat at the table while he poured her a cup of coffee then sat in the chair next to her. He reached out and took both her hands in his and said

"Thank you for bringing my phone . . . You should stay here today and sleep . . . Don't drive home when you're this tired. He opened her hand, placed a key in her palm and closed her fingers around it. "This is a key to my apartment" he said . . . "You don't need my permission to use it. Come whenever you like, whether I'm here or not."

He got, up and leaving her there staring at the coffee, he headed for the bedroom and started to get dressed for his trip. He had his pants on and with his shirt in hand, he went to the window. Looking out and in deep thought he didn't hear her come in. She came up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her forehead in the centre of his back. There was so much she wanted to say to him but couldn't find the words.For a moment he didn't move and neither did she, but he brought his hands to cover hers and they stayed in that position until unable to control himself any longer, he turned around and kissed her.

The kiss was unlike anything she had ever experienced with him before. He was forceful, not rough but not gentle either. When she opened her mouth, he entered and she could feel her knees getting weaker, and he wouldn't let her breathe but she wasn't sure if she wanted to. She reached up to hold on to something, anything . . . his shirt . . . a towel, but there was nothing there, his chest was bare. She wrapped her arms around his neck, a feat which offers some difficulty as he was so much taller than her. Their tongues tangled and deep in her stomach she could feel her body reacting to his. An indescribable need to feel his body joined with hers. His lips travelled to her neck, giving her time to breathe but she became the aggressor and this time it was her tongue infiltrating his mouth, he who gasped and moaned and was rendered breathless. They took turns, as if no one wanted to end the kiss and then when they could kiss no longer, when their lips began to ache and swell from all the friction, he picked her up gently and took her to bed.

Late in the afternoon she awoke, momentarily unaware of where she was. Then it quickly dawned on her that she was in his apartment, and that he wasn't there. She checked the clock on the night stand. She had been asleep for almost eight hours. He was probably already in New York. On his pillow there was a note and on top of it, the key that he had given her earlier that morning. The note said that he would be away for three to four days and that he loved her.

Getting up, she walked toward the bathroom. She was now wearing his shirt. He must have put it on her afterwards. She undressed and entered the shower. She washed her hair with his shampoo, and stood for long moments under the water, Her body still a little bit sore from the activities of the morning. The memory of the last time she was in this shower came flooding back to her. He was there with her, holding her, scrubbing her clean and afterwards making love to her. Now, he wasn't there and she missed him.

She never expected to miss him so much, in fact she never expected to miss him at all. It had only

been a few hours since he left, but she couldn't kick the feeling of loneliness. His apartment seemed bare without him, but everywhere she looked there were reminders of him. She was wearing his robe now. It kept her warm and it smelled like him, but neither the robe nor scent could replace the real person. It was going to be a long four days.

She wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to hear him say "I love you, Cristina." in that voice that he seems to reserve just for her. She wanted to feel his touch, and the warmth of his lips upon hers. She touched her lips. They were still very sensitive to the touch. Her mind wandered back to the early morning, and what transpired between them and she smiled, but it was a smile tinged with sadness because she still hadn't told him what he wanted to hear, and her only hope was that her actions spoke loudly and that he understood.

She ate. She wasn't sure if it was breakfast lunch or dinner. It was way past the time for the

first two and a little early for the latter, it didn't matter to her. The meal was prepared by him, left in his fridge for her. Even in his absence, he was still taking care of her. Making sure she ate well, and giving her a key so that she could utilize his apartment if she needed to. It

always was that way. From the very first moment they met. He was her protector, then her

lover. Now he wanted more. She stayed in his apartment all day. She read his books, he had interesting books, and periodically peeked into things she shouldn't. But she felt that by doing so she was getting to know him better. And after all, she thought, if he had anything to hide, he wouldn't have given her the key. She looked at an album of photographs of him ranging from childhood photos to the present. He was a gangly kid whose most outstanding feature was the very prominent cleft in his chin. The pictures tell the story of a little boy named Preston, who had grown from a sweet baby

into the man whom she loves, but unable to convey that to him. There were pictures of him and his parents, and of aunts and uncles and cousins. The album had the work of a woman written all over it. Because only a woman she thought, would be so meticulous about arranging photographs. They were labeled and dated and everyone showed a smiling happy child.

She could see in those photographs, how his childhood may have influenced the kind of man he had become. He seemed to have grown up in a family of women, well dressed, beautiful women. She thought of how different her childhood was from his. She had everything that money could buy and a family who loved her, but she was never as happy as he appeared to be. For always there was someone missing from her family pictures, her father. She closed the album and put it back in its place.

Late in the evening, she went to her apartment, wearing only his shirt, but it was so big on her that no one would know that she was wearing nothing underneath. Her apartment, as usual was a lot different from his. Hers was messy, where his was neat and tidy. She could always find

something to eat in his fridge while hers, except for water, was empty. There was nothing homey

about the place. Nothing that would give anyone the impression that someone actually lives there. Her mother had decorated the place with beautiful expensive furniture, but looking around, it was impossible to see the beauty in it. There were clothes scattered everywhere and newspapers and magazines littered the couch and coffee table. It was just a place for her to get a change of clothing and sometimes a little sleep, but it was not important to her, it wasn't home.

She packed a small bag, put on a pair of jeans, and still wearing his shirt, she left her apartment.

By the time she got back to his place, it was almost midnight. She lay on the bed, this time on his side. She wondered what he was doing in New York, and if he missed her. She had never spent a

night alone in his apartment before, and wasn't sure why she was doing so now. The key she thought, was a test. He was testing her to see how much he could trust her. She wasn't sure whether she should be offended or be thrilled that he would give her such unlimited access to that part of his life. All she knew was that she felt like a fish who was floundering in the water, and that he had caught her and was quickly reeling her in. The problem was, unlike most fishes, she wanted to be reeled in, but the natural urge to resist was always present, and she couldn't fight it.

The following day she went to work, then went back to his apartment at the end of the day. She spent three whole days going from work to his apartment. She never went home and never missed it, but she missed him. It was odd not seeing him at work, not hearing his voice. Not only did his apartment seemed bare without him, but so did the hospital. She did well in his absence. Mr Fletcher was discharged, and she said goodbye to him before he left. Even Meredith and the other interns marvelled at her good mood.

On the fourth day she should have been on call but traded shifts with George. On her way to Burke's place she stopped at a restaurant and ordered take out. She had no idea what time his flight would be in, but something he had said prior to leaving, lead her to believe that it would be a night flight. She showered, and although she had gone to her place for clothes a few days earlier, she put on one of his shirts. She ate, read a little, listened to music and read again.Then around midnight, she went to bed.

Late in the night he arrived home, a little bit jet lagged and tired but happy to be there. The place was in total darkness, except for a dim light coming from the bedroom. He dropped his bags in the hallway and went to the kitchen to get some water. Afterwards, he picked his bags up and headed for the bedroom. The light he had seen earlier was actually coming from outside. The blinds were open. He put the bags down, took off his shoes and was undoing his belt while

heading toward the window, when out of the corner of his eyes he noticed something. He turned around and looked toward his bed. It was already occupied. He stood in the same spot for a moment, not sure if it was shock or delight that rendered him immobile. Then, retracing his steps, he went toward the bed, and gently removed the sheets from her face. She was fast asleep, her hair scattered all over the pillow. He bent down and kissed her gently on her forehead, then pulled the sheets back into place, closed the blinds and left the room.

He showered and trying carefully not to wake her, slid quietly into the bed. He laid there for a long time, unable to sleep. Totally distracted by the woman sleeping next to him. Then it occurred to him that something was different, and then he realized what it was. She snores when she sleeps, but there was no snoring, and he knew that she was awake. He turned the bedside light on, picked up his cell phone and pretended to dial, and then he spoke "Hi it's Dr Burke. You

know that stand still surgery that we have scheduled for tomorrow . . . " Before he could finish, she sat up straight in bed. He put the phone down and started to laugh. Realizing that she'd been had, she grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He reached out and grabbed her and both fell backwards on the bed.

Then the laughter stopped and he got serious and pulled her closer "I missed you"

"You did"

"Yes"

She was quiet for a moment and then she asked. "Why is it so important for me to say it?"

"It just is." He said quietly, running his fingers through her hair.

Again quietness took over, and out of the blue she said. "Your junior member is poking me again." They both began to laugh and it was a happy carefree laugh. He pulled her closer to him, so close she could feel every muscle spasm, with every move that he made. "Some day" he said, "You're gonna have to find a more appropriate name for that part of my anatomy . . . We've gone from little friend, to junior member, and I'm sure we had a big foot thrown in there somewhere."

"What would you like me to call it?" she asked

"Burke's penis would be good." He responded

"Yeah" she laughed "Burke's penis is very good."

He held her chin and stared into her eyes, something had changed, she seemed happier, more relaxed. "I should go away more often" he said

"No, you shouldn't" she got serious and her demeanor changed."

"Why?" He asked quietly.

"I love you."

He could hardly hear the words but there was no mistaking what she had said. He wanted to make the moment lighter and so he asked.

"Me, ...or my junior member?"

'You." she said firmly

He had waited so long to hear her say it, and now that she has, he was at a loss for words. He breathes in deeply, then kissed her softly on her lips "Thank you" was all he could say, but she had other ideas as she was busy relieving him of his pajamas.

Hours later he awoke to find her sleeping in his arms, her head resting on his chest, hair scattered everywhere. It was early dawn, still dark outside, but soon they'd both have to get up for work. He pulled the sheets up and covered them both. Through the crack in the blinds he got a glimpse of the early morning sky. The stars were aligned perfectly. He thought, and all was well in their world.