I Wonder As I Wander -- Cristina and Burke

There were times when Cristina Yang was sure the chief was a brilliant man.  And then there were the times that she just wanted to kill him.

Yesterday had been exactly one of the later times, as Cristina was forced to listen to the chief prattle on and on about how she had managed to work every holiday but one for the past three years, and the other residents were complaining that it let her jump on too many extra surgeries, and that so, for the sake of fairness, he was ordering her to take Christmas Eve and Christmas day off, whether she liked it or not.

She was positive that none of the Seattle Grace residents had gone in and cry-baby whined about her holiday surgery monopoly.  No, Cristina was sure that one of those awful Mercy Westers was to blame.  Probably that stupid Nosedive... he was just the sort to go in and bellyache based on some gossip the nurses had spewed about how Yang was always in the E.R. hawking surgeries, whether it was the 4th of July or New Year's.

It was crap.  She'd taken a Thanksgiving off... once... in her first year.  Okay, technically she had been in on a surgery that day, but she wasn't actually scheduled to work, and it was only one surgery, so as far as she was concerned, it didn't really count.

So now she was barred from the hospital for two days... barred completely, because Bailey had threatened to lock her in a supply closet if she showed her face.  And for Cristina, who wasn't big on the whole "holiday spirit" thing to begin with, being unable to cut or even watch a surgery for two days had soured her mood altogether.

It wasn't like she didn't have other places she could go.  Meredith was doing the whole "family Christmas" thing, but she could barely take Derek on a good day; the thought of putting up with his relatives seemed too much to bear.  Callie and Arizona were hosting a friends' dinner at the apartment, but that dinner included Owen because when the invitations had been handed out, Cristina was supposed to be working, freeing up a seat for her ex.

Her ex... he'd become that after one more fight about why she needed a surgery he seemed determined to give to someone else because he was "being fair."  She didn't get how someone who had seemed able to read her so well when they'd first met had become someone who didn't know her at all, but that was where they'd ended up as a couple, and Cristina had finally had enough.  She missed him in some ways... the sex for sure, the comfort of knowing he cared.  But all in all, she couldn't say she missed him... not the way she knew she could miss someone who meant the world to her.

So forced into holiday exile from the Seattle Grace Mercy West O.R.s, sans boyfriend and unwilling to take part in either Christmas celebration she was invited to, Cristina had packed a suitcase, driven to the airport and hoped on the first flight that had an open seat and wasn't going somewhere that sucked.

She'd spent time in San Francisco over the years, enough that she had a favorite hotel, a few beloved bars and restaurants and a working knowledge of how to get around.  So she'd bought the ticket, jumped on her cell to book a room at the Fairmont (an Eastern snowstorm had led to a string of cancelations, so they were happy to accommodate her) and thanks to the Hanukkah check from her mother and stepfather, the whole little getaway was essentially free.

People were still out haplessly shopping for last-minute gifts and moving from one holiday gathering to another, and so after checking into her room and grabbing a martini at the hotel to ease herself into "away from surgery mode," Cristina headed out into the city, alternately walking, riding cable cars and just generally wandering, making periodic stops when something managed to catch her interest, like the killer leather trench she'd picked up for 65% off after spying it in boutique window.

She hadn't planned on ending up in the neighborhood of one of the best hospitals in the entire state of California; it had just worked out that way.  And when she ducked into a neighborhood shop to grab a cup of coffee and warm up, it was only natural that she struck up a conversation with two men in scrubs who had been discussing their afternoon surgery and how it was worth missing the big resident party to be able to scrub in with the hotshot from Johns Hopkins.

"Transplant?" she asked casually, and the blond one shook his head.

"Double valve replacement--aortic and mitral."

"Wow, that's a jacked up heart," she cracked.  "Do you get to active assist or just observe?"

"You a surgeon?" the brunet asked, and Cristina smiled.

"Seattle Grace.  Just here on vacation."

The blond's eyes widened.

"Oh, then you must know the hotshot.  Our chief is the patient, and he used to mentor Preston Burke, so Burke flew in to personally do the surgery."

The realization that she was in the same city with Burke... that he was probably only a few blocks away... stole the breath from her lungs.  It took a few inquiries from the local residents to get her brain cylinders firing enough for her to ask what seemed like a simple question from a curious former colleague.

"Is Burke at the hospital now?"

"Yeah," the brunet answered.  "If you want to walk back with us..."

She didn't need to have the offer made twice, and while some part of her mind screamed "Call Mer! Have her talk you out of this!" Cristina ignored that voice and instead focused on the myriad thoughts racing through her head.

What would he say when he saw her?

What would she feel when she saw him?

Was he still Burke or had time and a new place changed him?

Most importantly, why the hell did she feel like someone had just given her the best, most unexpected gift imaginable?

He was in the hallway outside his patient's room talking on his cell when she first laid eyes on him.  Cristina gathered from the snippets of conversation she overheard while keeping her distance that he was explaining to his mother that he would make sure to find a Christmas dinner somewhere and that he was sure he was fine and wouldn't be lonely.  Briefly, that made her wonder if he'd come to San Francisco alone.  The idea that he hadn't made her chest ache.

When he noticed her, he froze, just for a beat.  Then he smiled slightly before returning to his conversation.

"Mama, I need to get ready for surgery, but I'll phone you tomorrow, all right?  Tell Dad I said good-bye."

Another moment and then he pushed the button that officially ended the call.  He dropped the phone into his lab coat pocket and then started toward her.  Not wanting to seem overwhelmed, she moved as well, meeting him halfway.

"What in the world are you doing in San Francisco?"

He chuckled as he spoke, and she wondered how she'd made herself forget that sound... even if she knew why she had willed it out of her memory.  But she managed to put a smile on her face as she shrugged casually.

"I ran away from home.  I hear you're gonna save God or something?"

"Or something."

And the words stopped for a moment as they stood there and looked at each other.  She couldn't imagine what he was thinking.  Was he trying as hard as she was to seem normal?  Was he wondering about what she'd felt when she heard he was here?  Did he want to stay standing here as badly as she did?

"I'm sure you probably have plans," he said finally, clearing his throat partway through his words.  She remembered that meant he was nervous, and somehow, that made her feel good.  "But if you wanted to watch, I'm sure I could arrange a seat for you in the gallery."

"I do... have plans," she said, lying through her teeth.  "But nothing I can't be late for.  Besides, it would serve those Mercy West bastards right if I got to see a surgery today anyway after they got me banned for the holiday."

He smiled that slow smile of his that started at the left corner of his mouth and spread in a lazy way all the way to the far right side, a hint of mischief in his eyes as the arc became complete.

"It's good to see you, Cristina."

She ignored the butterflies in her stomach and the dryness in her throat and shrugged.  "Duh.  Of course it is."

Nine hours later, as he rolled breathlessly away from her body to the opposite side of the bed, Cristina couldn't have explained how they'd gotten from that hallway to here, nor could she have told you the moment when she knew that even if she never saw him again after tonight, she would love this man forever because he saw her in a way that no one else did... and even if they weren't supposed to be together for always, they were something that made her feel more and deeper than anything but medicine would ever equal.

"Have you forgiven me?" he asked.

She turned her head to the side and saw him mirroring her position, and she let out a long, slow breath.

"No.  But I miss you.  I don't want to.  But I miss you all the time."

He eased closer, his forehead just barely touching against hers.

"I haven't forgiven me either.  And I miss you... all the time."

They didn't make any promises when they said their good-byes at the hotel. (They bypassed the airport farewells since Burke's plane left earlier than hers.)  And she had no idea when or if she would see him again.  But she did know that even one-upping the Mercy Westers with news of the fantastic procedure she'd observed wasn't worth telling anyone in Seattle about how she'd spent her Christmas holiday.

She'd wandered into a moment that was closure and hope all at once.  And that belonged to her... to them... whatever it turned out to be.