FIC: Love Wins Every Time 5/?
Hi again :) Wow, I am just ripping along with this, aren't I? More Cristina drama this time, and Burke and Addison face the morning after...
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
On with the story :)
He wakes, up and she's gone. The bed is made, the room is spotless, and there is a note on the kitchen counter that says simply 'Thank You.' He is a bit baffled that she's left already, but then Cristina comes home, and he sees that she must have anticipated this.
"Good morning," Cristina says. He has already showered, but he hasn't yet dressed. He moves around the kitchen in his robe, making coffee.
"Good morning," he answers back. He puts on the smile again, and it makes her scowl.
"She still here?"
"No, actually."
She nods, tries to sit down. But she is on her feet again, fidgeting. "So are we…are we okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"Just…look, obviously, she was filling a need or something. So…"
"Cristina. You are over-thinking this."
"Meredith says she had to be filling a need."
"Oh?" His mouth quirks in amusement. "Meredith says?"
"Look, I'm not saying…okay, fine, you need friends. But…her?"
"Why not?"
"You know why not. You know what they say about her."
"Oh? What do they say?"
She fidgets again, plainly annoyed that he is making her spell it out for him. "They say that she's a bit of a man-eater," Cristina finally says. "First Shepherd, then Sloan, then Shepherd again, then Sloan…again…"
This strikes him as a needlessly cruel and simplistic interpretation of events as he understands them. He wants to end this now. "Look, Cristina. We are fine. There is nothing for you to be worried about."
"But…"
"She had a bad day. And she needed someone to reach out to her."
"And you just…decided…that it should be you."
"Has she got anyone else?"
She sighs. "This is weird. Even you have to know, this is weird."
"Oh, is it? And what would you have had me do, Cristina? Just leave her?"
He has to remind himself that Cristina wasn't there. That she didn't see what he saw. He tames his impatience by reminding himself that Cristina wasn't there.
"She was not in a condition to be left," he says. "There are things about her which she hasn't…"
"Oh, please. Are you going to pull some sort of head doc psychobabble on me about this? The whole man-eater thing, it's what? Daddy issues? Post-traumatic stress? Low self-esteem? A need for validation?"
"Cristina…"
"So, what, did she cry? Please tell me she didn't actually cry?"
Cristina wasn't there. She didn't see. She didn't see…
"I think you have the wrong idea," he says softly. He is tired of arguing. He is angry that he has to. "You know, you should ask Bailey to assign you to her service today. Spend some time with her, see how it goes. You'd like her."
"I don't…I don't not like her now," she says with a sigh. "I just…"
"What?"
She is clearly exasperated. "Nothing. Whatever. Look, I'm gonna be late. We'll talk about this later?"
"No," he says, bringing out the firm, scary smile again. "We won't."
--
He gets himself ready a little faster than he usually does. He is not consciously aware that he's hurrying because he wants to check on her, but the conversation with Cristina has unsettled him a little. Maybe he is having a little need for validation himself.
It's still early when he gets to the hospital. He finds himself lining up for coffee beside the chief.
"Morning, Preston."
"Morning, sir."
"So? Beautiful day."
"Right. Of course." He pays for his coffee, falls into step beside the chief.
"Sir?"
Chief Webber stops, looks at him. "Everything all right, Preston?"
He follows him into his office, nudges shut the door. "Just…here's a question. Hypothetical."
"I'm listening."
"You were married, right?"
"Preston…"
"Just go with me on this. You had a wife at home."
"Yes."
"Say you brought home another woman one night. A colleague. A friend. For dinner, maybe. And pie."
"And why would I be doing that, exactly?"
"She's having a crisis. You see that she's hurting, and you don't want to leave her. So you bring her home with you."
"As a colleague and as a friend."
"Right. So…if you did that. How would your wife react?"
"She would probably put on her mother act for the unfortunate colleague and friend. If the crisis was bad enough that I could see it, she'd certainly see it too."
He takes that in. That hadn’t occurred to him, somehow. He knows Cristina, knows she has her problems dealing with people sometimes. But even she would know real pain when she sees it. Wouldn't she? He would want her to notice real pain…
"Preston, this is probably none of my business. But Cristina…she didn't notice?"
"No. She didn't."
"And do I…do I want to know who the unfortunate colleague was?"
"No. I…it's not for me to tell you."
Chief Webber slowly nods, plainly putting the pieces together.
"Well whoever she is, Preston, will you pass along a message for me? Let her know that I hope she's okay. And that if she needs me, as a boss, as a friend…that I'm here for her?"
He nods himself, then takes his coffee and leaves. He has a sudden urge to go visit babies.
--
He has a surgery scheduled for 10 am. Triple bypass. It's standard work for him, and he busies himself checking on the patient. Now that he's here, at work, where she is, where both of them, Cristina and Addison are, he's having cold feet. He doesn't want to confront Cristina again. And perhaps she is right. Perhaps he is investing a little too much into this? He bailed Addison out. He fed her dinner and gave her a night of peace. That does not make him a hero. That does not necessarily even make him a friend. She has probably forgotten all about him already.
He has almost convinced himself that she has, that he has forgotten too. But when she bumps into him during rounds and it’s clear she has been looking for him too, he becomes aware that a part of him was waiting for it.
"Preston!" She sounds cheerful. She sounds rested. She's dressed impeccably again, her hair pulled out of its messy curtain by neat, flat pins that smartly brush it out of her eyes. Her smile is genuine, and he is heart-stoppingly relieved to see it.
"Good morning, Addison."
"You got my note?"
"Yes."
"I just figured…I was sure Cristina would be back. And I just didn't want to hear it, you know? I just…maybe that makes me a bad friend. Does it make me a bad friend? I just didn't want to hear it."
"You are not a bad friend."
She holds out a Styrofoam cup. "Well, I brought you some juju. I saw you had a surgery up there already, and I thought…"
"That's very sweet of you."
"Yeah. See? I can be sweet. I am not just Weirdo-Depressing-Girl. I can be sweet."
"Addison…"
"I know, I know, I'm doing that whole Validate Me! thing again. Okay, I'll stop. Just…it was nice, you know? Talking a little? Feeling like someone would care if I did that?"
He takes her in, measuring the mood carefully. Well, all right. So she needs to hear it. Maybe he needs to hear it, say it, too, like they are eight years old again and navigating the trials of third grade together. "So…we're friends now," he says.
She grins. "Yeah. We're friends. Preston?"
"Hmmm?"
"Don't forget to drink the juju."
--
To be continued...
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
On with the story :)
He wakes, up and she's gone. The bed is made, the room is spotless, and there is a note on the kitchen counter that says simply 'Thank You.' He is a bit baffled that she's left already, but then Cristina comes home, and he sees that she must have anticipated this.
"Good morning," Cristina says. He has already showered, but he hasn't yet dressed. He moves around the kitchen in his robe, making coffee.
"Good morning," he answers back. He puts on the smile again, and it makes her scowl.
"She still here?"
"No, actually."
She nods, tries to sit down. But she is on her feet again, fidgeting. "So are we…are we okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"Just…look, obviously, she was filling a need or something. So…"
"Cristina. You are over-thinking this."
"Meredith says she had to be filling a need."
"Oh?" His mouth quirks in amusement. "Meredith says?"
"Look, I'm not saying…okay, fine, you need friends. But…her?"
"Why not?"
"You know why not. You know what they say about her."
"Oh? What do they say?"
She fidgets again, plainly annoyed that he is making her spell it out for him. "They say that she's a bit of a man-eater," Cristina finally says. "First Shepherd, then Sloan, then Shepherd again, then Sloan…again…"
This strikes him as a needlessly cruel and simplistic interpretation of events as he understands them. He wants to end this now. "Look, Cristina. We are fine. There is nothing for you to be worried about."
"But…"
"She had a bad day. And she needed someone to reach out to her."
"And you just…decided…that it should be you."
"Has she got anyone else?"
She sighs. "This is weird. Even you have to know, this is weird."
"Oh, is it? And what would you have had me do, Cristina? Just leave her?"
He has to remind himself that Cristina wasn't there. That she didn't see what he saw. He tames his impatience by reminding himself that Cristina wasn't there.
"She was not in a condition to be left," he says. "There are things about her which she hasn't…"
"Oh, please. Are you going to pull some sort of head doc psychobabble on me about this? The whole man-eater thing, it's what? Daddy issues? Post-traumatic stress? Low self-esteem? A need for validation?"
"Cristina…"
"So, what, did she cry? Please tell me she didn't actually cry?"
Cristina wasn't there. She didn't see. She didn't see…
"I think you have the wrong idea," he says softly. He is tired of arguing. He is angry that he has to. "You know, you should ask Bailey to assign you to her service today. Spend some time with her, see how it goes. You'd like her."
"I don't…I don't not like her now," she says with a sigh. "I just…"
"What?"
She is clearly exasperated. "Nothing. Whatever. Look, I'm gonna be late. We'll talk about this later?"
"No," he says, bringing out the firm, scary smile again. "We won't."
--
He gets himself ready a little faster than he usually does. He is not consciously aware that he's hurrying because he wants to check on her, but the conversation with Cristina has unsettled him a little. Maybe he is having a little need for validation himself.
It's still early when he gets to the hospital. He finds himself lining up for coffee beside the chief.
"Morning, Preston."
"Morning, sir."
"So? Beautiful day."
"Right. Of course." He pays for his coffee, falls into step beside the chief.
"Sir?"
Chief Webber stops, looks at him. "Everything all right, Preston?"
He follows him into his office, nudges shut the door. "Just…here's a question. Hypothetical."
"I'm listening."
"You were married, right?"
"Preston…"
"Just go with me on this. You had a wife at home."
"Yes."
"Say you brought home another woman one night. A colleague. A friend. For dinner, maybe. And pie."
"And why would I be doing that, exactly?"
"She's having a crisis. You see that she's hurting, and you don't want to leave her. So you bring her home with you."
"As a colleague and as a friend."
"Right. So…if you did that. How would your wife react?"
"She would probably put on her mother act for the unfortunate colleague and friend. If the crisis was bad enough that I could see it, she'd certainly see it too."
He takes that in. That hadn’t occurred to him, somehow. He knows Cristina, knows she has her problems dealing with people sometimes. But even she would know real pain when she sees it. Wouldn't she? He would want her to notice real pain…
"Preston, this is probably none of my business. But Cristina…she didn't notice?"
"No. She didn't."
"And do I…do I want to know who the unfortunate colleague was?"
"No. I…it's not for me to tell you."
Chief Webber slowly nods, plainly putting the pieces together.
"Well whoever she is, Preston, will you pass along a message for me? Let her know that I hope she's okay. And that if she needs me, as a boss, as a friend…that I'm here for her?"
He nods himself, then takes his coffee and leaves. He has a sudden urge to go visit babies.
--
He has a surgery scheduled for 10 am. Triple bypass. It's standard work for him, and he busies himself checking on the patient. Now that he's here, at work, where she is, where both of them, Cristina and Addison are, he's having cold feet. He doesn't want to confront Cristina again. And perhaps she is right. Perhaps he is investing a little too much into this? He bailed Addison out. He fed her dinner and gave her a night of peace. That does not make him a hero. That does not necessarily even make him a friend. She has probably forgotten all about him already.
He has almost convinced himself that she has, that he has forgotten too. But when she bumps into him during rounds and it’s clear she has been looking for him too, he becomes aware that a part of him was waiting for it.
"Preston!" She sounds cheerful. She sounds rested. She's dressed impeccably again, her hair pulled out of its messy curtain by neat, flat pins that smartly brush it out of her eyes. Her smile is genuine, and he is heart-stoppingly relieved to see it.
"Good morning, Addison."
"You got my note?"
"Yes."
"I just figured…I was sure Cristina would be back. And I just didn't want to hear it, you know? I just…maybe that makes me a bad friend. Does it make me a bad friend? I just didn't want to hear it."
"You are not a bad friend."
She holds out a Styrofoam cup. "Well, I brought you some juju. I saw you had a surgery up there already, and I thought…"
"That's very sweet of you."
"Yeah. See? I can be sweet. I am not just Weirdo-Depressing-Girl. I can be sweet."
"Addison…"
"I know, I know, I'm doing that whole Validate Me! thing again. Okay, I'll stop. Just…it was nice, you know? Talking a little? Feeling like someone would care if I did that?"
He takes her in, measuring the mood carefully. Well, all right. So she needs to hear it. Maybe he needs to hear it, say it, too, like they are eight years old again and navigating the trials of third grade together. "So…we're friends now," he says.
She grins. "Yeah. We're friends. Preston?"
"Hmmm?"
"Don't forget to drink the juju."
--
To be continued...