Ever since Burke had walked out of her life Cristina hadn't been the same. She wished he had the guts to call the engagement off before the actual wedding. Shit it's not always a fairytale ending is it?

He didn't even have the balls to show himself again that he sent his Mama to get his things which was a shitty move but less shitty than the weeks she spent crying herself to sleep after he left. Her sadness eventually turned to relief and then to anger. She broke dishes, shattered picture frames, and burned his Eugene Foote tapes in the fireplace, all ending in a breakdown on the kitchen floor with a tub of ice cream.

Every night before she went to bed she hoped that he would crash his car in a ditch or someone would murder him he deserved it anyway but now her main focus was to become a hell of a better surgeon than Burke who even leaves a towel in a patient anyway. Months of misery later, Cristina had made it through and was now standing at the ambulance bay with her colleagues, waiting for the three incoming traumas. When the ambulances arrived, the chief told Cristina to come with him. When the rig opened, they saw a soldier performing a tracheotomy on a patient with a pen. The pen trach didn't last long since they had to get the patient to the OR as Hahn finally allowed Cristina to scrub in.

The Chief and the soldier were leaving Trauma 1 when Cristina approached them. "Chief, Hahn is working on multiple crush injuries and wants you to take a look before she starts."

As Cristina spoke, the red-headed soldier observed her and Dr. Webber discussing the case, his focus mostly on Cristina. He couldn't help but stare.

"You're bleeding," Dr. Webber said to him bringing him out of his thoughts of the petite doctor.

"My uh car was right behind theirs at the intersection. I cut it on impact," he said, extending his arm. "Major Owen Hunt, US Army, second forward surgical trauma surgeon, currently on leave."

"Dr. Yang," the chief turned to Cristina, "Take care of Major Hunt's leg before you scrub in."

"Yes, Chief," Cristina replied, displeased. Noticing the soldier limping away, she called out, "Hey, where are you going?"

"To check on my other patients," he said.

"No, no, you are the patient!" she yelled after him, trying to stop him when she finally caught up she found him arguing with McDreamy.

"Who the hell are you?" Derek asked harshly glaring at the guy in camouflage.

"Army surgeon badass," Cristina said leaning against the nurses station. "Apparently did something crazy with a pen on a guy's throat," she said rolling her eyes and watching the heated argument that continued between the 2 jackasses.

"Enough of this we're closing up your leg now," Cristina said suddenly grabbing his arm and leading him to an empty exam room.

He limped past her into the room onto the opposite side of the gurney and Cristina closed the door behind them while he slung his shirt over a nearby chair and let his pants pooled around his ankles. She stepped closer to his side of the room feeling his eyes on her as she collected supplies.

"Staples would be fine," his voice was low and gravelly. Cristina turned back at him and their eyes locked for a minute before he looked down. "I've had worse damage," he said his hand gesturing to the wound on his thigh.

Clearing her throat, Cristina spoke, "Alright then, Major Hunt." She sat on the stool beside him, pulling her tray of supplies with her. She brushed a swab against his thigh as he lifted his underwear for better access to the injury.

"Who knew being a patient could have its perks," Hunt smirked looking at Cristina.

"You're not a patient you'll be out of here in 10 minutes and you can go back to wherever you came from," She said not looking up at him.

"I think it's going to be more than 10 minutes before I go back to wherever I came from," He smirked while using her previous words.

"Okay," Cristina mumbled, ignoring him as she stood up to find lidocaine. With her back to him, Hunt looked down at the tray before him and saw a stapler. He doesn't know what makes him wrap his fingers over the tool he thinks it has something to do with the petite surgeon and a deep desire to pull a smile on her face.

"I'm going to numb..." Cristina's voice trailed off as she saw him stapling his own wound. "Uh, you're not numbed."

"So?" His reply was simple and flippant before going back to the task at hand.

"S-ow! S-uh, ow!" She winced with an amused face. "Can't get an angle at these could you?'' He asked it wasn't a lie for it would be much easier for a separate set of hands to finish patching him up than his own. However, had it been someone else in the room he would have most likely continued himself.

She looked down, smiled, and shook her head with a chuckle. "Okay." She placed the stapler, pulled it, and heard a slight reaction of pain from him. She looked back up, wide-eyed, seeking permission to continue. He met her eyes, attempted a slight grin through gritted teeth, and nodded for her to continue

"Thank you," He smiled through gritted teeth liking that he got her to smile even if it was just for a few moments his grin widening as the pain subsided and watched her rise to her feet. "Don't mention it," she replied their eyes met for a few seconds until they were interrupted by Torres wanting to talk to the soldier that's when Cristina remembered she had to go scrub in.

"So I guess poke yourself," she said getting up from the stool and as she left the room, she didn't have to turn around knowing he was probably watching her every move until the door closed behind her.