It's a subdued crowd that watches the happy couple leaving the church, via ambulance. Cristina sighs, watching the crowd slowly move around. She looks for Callie, and spots her having some serious eye sex with Arizona off to the side.
"There goes my ride," she mutters. She looks around, and sees Owen talking to George and Olivia. She raises an eyebrow at the way Olivia is looking up at Owen – and the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Olivia clearly has her sights set on Owen. Cristina's eyes narrow as Olivia casually touches Owen's arm as she laughs at something he said.
Cristina looks away, conflicted. She wasn't sure of what to make of Owen today – this new Owen who talks about his PTSD – although she was pleased that he was even able to talk about it. She looks back, nibbling on her lower lip – and makes a choice. She walks over.
"I have a favour to ask," she announces, looking directly at Owen. "Could you give me a ride back to the hospital?"
His blue eyes are surprised, but happy. "It would be my pleasure."
"You looked great up there Cristina," George says. She smiles and waves as Owen takes her by the arm and walks her to his truck. They make their way through the crowd and he opens the passenger door for her, carefully lifting up the folds of her dress so they don't get caught.
"You looked lovely up there," he says quickly, before closing the door. She smiles and looks at the small bouquet in her lap.
He drives quickly and neatly, like he does most things. She twirls her hair around a finger, watching him drive. They don't talk, just glance and smile at each other. He is confused at first, but her eyes communicate her feelings. He relaxes and starts to speed.
At the hospital, he pulls into his usual spot, then jumps out to help her out the passenger door. She holds onto his proffered arm and steps down. Her hand slides down his arm and grasps his hand. Without a word, she pulls him behind and marches purposefully to the hospital. He softly chuckles and steps quickly to keep up with her.
She pulls him along to the locker room, which is thankfully empty. "I need help getting out of my dress," she announces, yanking open her locker and grabbing the bag she's stashed in there. She turns around and looks at him. "Nice suit."
He laughs, leans in, and she grabs his face, kissing him hard. Then she pulls back, grabs his hand again, and yanks him out the door and to the nearest on call room.
He locks the door as she kicks off her shoes. She turns around and lifts her hair, exposing the back of the dress, and more importantly, her neck. He moves in, quickly placing his open mouth on the back of her neck, sucking, as his hands go around her waist and his beard scratches her skin. Impatient, she grabs his hands and moves them up to her breasts. He obligingly starts to squeeze and caress her, as she leans back against him, her free hand grabbing his thigh, feeling his growing arousal against her ass. She rubs herself against him, getting an appreciative growl.
His hands move to the back of the dress, deftly undoing the buttons, gently moving the straps down her shoulders and arms. She moves forward slightly, to let the soft fabric fall down to her feet. His hands are already at the back of her strapless bra, unhooking it, letting that fall too.
She turns around, starts attacking his tie. He smiles, and they manage to get his clothes off quickly. She moves her hands to the waistband of her pantyhose and he stops her. "My job."
She smiles as he peels the hose off of her. He scoops her up and lays her on the bed, then leans over and slides his finger under the waistband of her lacy thong. "Nice."
He grabs the elastic and slowly coaxes her thong off. She watches his teasing movements, idly playing with her breasts with a smile.
Owen casually tosses her panties onto the pile of his clothes, then spreads her thighs. Cristina nibbles on her lower lip again, this time in anticipation. He places another open mouthed kiss on her, this time on her heated center, and starts lapping at her. She arches her back and moans, grabbing her breasts tightly now. Damn.
She decides that while Owen does most things neatly and quickly, he certainly knows when to take his time. He casually introduces his fingers into her, while continuing to suck and lap at her with great care and deliberation.
She realizes that she's smiling widely, happier than she's been in a long time. It feels so damn good to be with this man – not just because of what he's doing to her, but just who he is.
Her thoughts are interrupted by a rush of heat – and she cries out as she suddenly climaxes, arching and squirming. Owen continues to suck at her until she starts to relax. Then he moves over, and leans down to kiss her. She sucks on his tongue, tasting herself. He moves to position himself – and slides in with one stroke, filling her completely.
She smiles up at him, rubbing her legs against his. He smiles down, setting a hard pace, that she eagerly matches with her hips. Their mouths and tongues meet again, and it's wonderful. She whimpers as he slides a hand between them, to torture and tease her all over again. He grunts as she starts to clench around him, and soon they find their release together.
He rolls off of her so he doesn't crush her with his weight. He opens his mouth to say something – and then his pager goes off. They both sit up and kiss. He jumps out of bed to look at his pager and to turn it off. Then he sits down on the edge of the bed.
"What now?" he asks softly.
She leans her head against his naked back. "You go save lives. And – we'll take it slow, okay?"
"Okay." He turns around to kiss her one more time before getting dressed, sticking her thong in his jacket. She swings her legs and gets out of bed, pulling her casual clothes out of her bag, and starts getting dressed.
A thought occurs to her. "Hey Owen, do you keep tools in your truck?"
"Yep," he nods, pulling on his jacket. "Why?"
"I have some renovating to do," she murmurs, pulling him in for one more kiss before he has to leave. "Take care now."