The Importance Of Trust

Chapter 6

"Cristina Yang," Jackson greeted her as she pulled a stool to the high table he was sitting at, clearly waiting for her.

Cristina eyed him and smiled, "Jackson."

"What, now we're on a first name basis?" He teased her.

"I think that was determined yesterday."

"Good," Jackson returned her smile. "So, can I buy you a drink or something?"

"A drink or something would be good." Cristina responded before he removed himself to fulfill her wishes.

Once alone, Cristina could see that Joe's bar was unusually packed tonight; filled with people still clearly dealing with the recent hospital trauma. Finally after two days of taking care of other people, it was nice to have a moment to herself as a friend went to buy a drink for her.

"What I would like to know," Jackson started as he approached their table, drinks in hand, "Is how you handled Derek's surgery with such confidence."

Cristina took her drink from him and brought it to her lips. "I am just that badass," she responded after taking a sip.

Jackson gave a little laugh and nursed his beer. "That I knew."

Cristina did not respond but brought her drink to her lips again.

"You took complete control of that O.R. in seconds, you knew exactly how to handle yourself, how to respond to every problem, every complication you were ten steps ahead of-"

Cristina put her glass down. "What's your point?" She asked sharply.

"You've done that before."

Cristina froze. "No, I haven't. If you remember correctly I wasted too much time deciding between the pig and the cow approach. If I had done that surgery before-"

"No, no. That's not what I meant," Jackson met her eyes and kept them. "You have been in command serious surgeries like that before."

Cristina took another sip of her drink.

"Many times," Jackson added.

Jackson stared at Cristina, who, once again said nothing. He followed Cristina by taking a drink.

"Like Harper-Avery-Award-type of work," Jackson stated matter-of-factly.

"Excuse me?" Cristina finally said.

"That's the type of work that my grandfather looks for. And, you're not denying that you have done those type of operations before," Jackson finished his beer. "And, didn't Seattle Grace Hospital win a Harper-Avery Award a couple of years ago?"

"I'm just a Resident." Cristina stated. "Residents-or interns-cannot win big fancy awards."

"That's not what I asked."

"That is a question you can find the answer to on the Internet."

"Cristina." Jackson put his hand gently on her face so that she was forced to look at him. "What surgeon at Settle Grace won a Harper-Avery Award?"

Cristina blinked. "I don't know," she whispered removing his hands from her face. "There were many great surgeons at Settle Grace two years ago, I didn't have time to keep track of all of them."

"You're lying."

Why aren't I leaving? Cristina thought to herself. I need to go. I can't handle this conversation. Move feet and say goodbye.

But Cristina's feet didn't move. Instead, she said, "Ask your Grandfather."

"Cristina. Did you win the 2007 Harper Avery Award?"

"No!" She responded quickly and boldly.

Jackson debated himself if he should push her even more. He was on the edge of a truth that he wasn't sure if he wanted to know or not. "Did you do the work for the 2007 Harper Avery Award?"

Cristina looked down at the table, playing with the peanuts left there, then around the bar to see if anyone was looking at them: No one was. She then raised her head to look at Jackson.

Their eyes met. Cristina could almost hear the click in his head. "Oh. My. God!" Jackson exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down!"

"As an Intern," Jackson moved closer to her and whispered. "How is that possible?"

"I can't talk about this here," Cristina whispered back.

"Okay, let's go somewhere else and talk."

"No," Cristina said stronger. "For my sanity, I really can't talk about this."

Jackson didn't say anymore. Cristina took another sip from her drink and then another to finish it.

"Do you want another one?"

"No." Cristina blurted. "I'm good," She said softer.

"Oh. My. God." Jackson repeated.

Cristina grabbed her bag from the floor, and said: "Seriously, I'm going to go."

"No, no." Jackson put his hands on her arms to stop her from going. "I'll stop. No more talking about that."

"Thank you," Cristina said as she popped a peanut into her mouth.

"What are doing out with me tonight?" Jackson said randomly as an attempt to change the subject.

Cristina looked at him: confused. "It's a thank-you for saving everyone's lives in the O.R. Like I said, I could not have done that without you."

Jackson laughed. "Well, that's debatable now, isn't it?"

Cristina started to look annoyed. "Jackson."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Sorry," He raised his hands in a guilty plea. Cristina smiled, he returned the smiled and moved to his second beer. "No really, what are you doing here? You have a boyfriend who loves you, who got shot for you and would clearly do it again for you. Your friend is a wreak because she almost lost her husband who you saved single-handedly. Not that I love your company, and am amazed at what I just learned about you, but what are you doing here with me right now?"

Cristina closed her eyes. Her hands were still playing with peanut shells. She sighed, and after a few silent moments of Jackson staring at her with a questionable look, she said: "I need a break, Okay?"

Jackson raised his eyebrows. "A break?"

"Yes," Cristina said flatly. "A break. I have been taking care of everyone else for three days. Going for a drink with you sounded relaxing, okay?"

"Okay," Jackson said astonished.

"Clearly the relaxing part was over-estimated."

Jackson did a double take: looking at her, then at her hands playing with peanut shells, then back at her.

And then he started laughing. His laugh was totally different from his earlier in the evening.

His laugh was so infectious that it caught Cristina and she was laughing within seconds.

After her worry about whether the whole bar would hear their private-secret-sharing conversation, it was their laughter that ended up catching people in Joe's bar attention.

The change came into Joe's like winter turning in spring. Magically, their laughter spread from one end of the bar to the other.

Shoulders were loosened, stress was relieved, smiles were returned, and finally Seattle could breathe again.