Burke exhaled slowly as the elevator doors slid shut behind him. He stood still for a moment, staring at the space where Cristina had just been.
What the hell just happened?
He shook his head, adjusting his ruined shirt. His morning was already exhausting, and now he had to sit through an interview he hadn't even known was on his schedule, all while wearing this.
With a tired sigh, he started down the hall. Nurses and residents parted as he walked, offering polite nods and hurried greetings. He barely registered them. His mind was elsewhere, on the sharp-tongued woman with the coffee-stained shirt, on the way she'd spoken to him without an ounce of hesitation.
He should have been annoyed. Maybe he was annoyed. But there was something almost… amusing about it.
He reached his office and pushed the door open, stepping inside. His assistant, a middle-aged woman named Janet, barely looked up from her desk.
"You have an interview in five minutes," she said without preamble, flipping through a file. "Actually, two interviews. Both general surgery residents."
Burke crossed his arms. "And when exactly was I going to be informed of this?"
Janet spared him a glance, unimpressed. "I put it on your schedule yesterday."
"I didn't see it."
She finally looked up, expression flat. "That's not my problem."
Burke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Janet had been working for him since he became Chief, and she was one of the few people who didn't take his title too seriously. Which was usually fine. But today, with a headache forming and coffee soaking into his shirt, it grated on him.
"Who are they?" he asked, changing the subject.
Janet handed him a file. "Cristina Yang and Meredith Grey."
His fingers paused on the folder. Yang. Of course. The hurricane of a woman who just called him stupid in the hallway. Burke exhaled sharply, flipping the file open.
The first page was filled with achievements—Stanford, top of her class, multiple research papers, glowing recommendations. He wasn't surprised. The way she carried herself, the way she expected to be the best, told him everything he needed to know.
He moved to the next file. Grey. His eyebrows lifted slightly as he skimmed the page.
"Ellis Grey's daughter?"
Janet nodded. "That's the one."
Burke hummed, closing the folder. One woman who had no idea who he was and treated him like an inconvenience. Another whose name alone carried weight in the surgical world.
This was going to be interesting.
"Do I at least have time to change my shirt?" he muttered.
Janet glanced at the clock. "Three minutes."
Burke sighed. "Of course."
Straightening his shoulders, he grabbed the files and headed toward the conference room, pushing the irritation and maybe, just maybe, the faintest trace of curiosity aside.
Cristina Yang didn't believe in comfort. Comfort meant complacency, and complacency meant mediocrity. She wasn't mediocre. She wasn't comfortable.
She had been at a different hospital before this—one that, on paper, had everything a surgical resident could need. But it wasn't enough. The competition wasn't cutthroat, the pace wasn't brutal, and the stakes weren't high enough. She wanted a hospital that pushed her to the edge of her capabilities every single day. A place where only the best survived.
Which is why she was here.
Seattle Grace Hospital had the best surgical program in the city. It had the toughest attendings, the most competitive residents, and the highest standards. If Cristina was going to become the best surgeon in the world, this was where she had to be.
She just had to get through this interview.
Cristina walked into the conference room, shoulders squared, coffee stain and all. Burke was already seated at the head of the table, her file in front of him. He looked up as she entered, expression unreadable.
The same man who ruined her morning. The same man she had yelled at. And now, the same man sitting across from her as her interviewer.
She is so stupid, she thought. So, so stupid.
"Dr. Yang," Burke said, motioning for her to sit.
Cristina sat down, crossing her legs and clasping her hands over her knee. She was not nervous. Not even a little.
Burke flipped open her file. "Stanford. Top of your class."
She nodded. "Yes."
Burke tapped his fingers against the table, watching Cristina with mild curiosity. The woman sitting across from him was unfazed, completely unbothered by the coffee stain on her shirt or the weight of the interview. It was almost impressive. Almost.
Cristina, on the other hand, was doing what she did best—being unapologetically confident.
"You left your previous hospital after only one year," Burke said, flipping through her file. "That's… unusual."
Cristina didn't blink. "It wasn't competitive enough."
Burke raised an eyebrow. "You think a hospital with a full surgical residency program wasn't competitive?"
"Not competitive enough." Cristina leaned forward slightly, her tone unwavering. "I want the best. That hospital wasn't the best. Seattle Grace is."
Burke exhaled, closing her file. "So you decided to just pack up and leave?"
"Yes."
"And what if Seattle Grace doesn't meet your high standards?"
Cristina smirked. "Then I'll just have to make it better."
Burke let out a quiet huff, shaking his head. She was bold, he'd give her that.
"You realize this program is one of the toughest in the country?"
"I do."
"You realize I expect my residents to work harder than they ever have in their lives?"
"I do."
Burke leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "And you still think you can handle it?"
Cristina crossed her arms. "I know I can handle it."
Burke studied her for a moment, then glanced at the coffee stain on her blouse. "You realize you're still covered in coffee, right?"
Cristina followed his gaze, then looked back up with a shrug. "It's a minor inconvenience."
Burke's lips twitched. "Is that so?"
"Doesn't affect my ability to cut people open."
Burke tilted his head, amused despite himself. "Surgery is about precision, Dr. Yang. Attention to detail. Maybe paying more attention would've saved you from ruining your shirt this morning."
Cristina scoffed. "Me? You were the one who—" She stopped herself, inhaling sharply. "You know what? I am not about to argue with the Chief of Surgery over a cup of coffee."
Burke smirked. "Smart decision."
Cristina rolled her eyes. "I'll repay the coffee. Once I'm hired."
Burke raised an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure you'll be hired?"
Cristina smirked right back. "Because you need great surgical residents." She leaned in slightly. "And I'm not just one of the best—I am the best surgical resident at the moment."
Burke exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. This woman.
Without breaking eye contact, he closed her file.
Cristina sat back, satisfied.
She might be stupid, but she so had this in the bag.