Olivia and Steve

When Cristina awoke, she was upside down. She opened her eyes, then quickly shut them. She was in the bedroom, and the sun streaming in through the window was unnaturally harsh.

She tried to think. Her head hurt and she felt steamrolled. Her stomach hurt. Her mouth was dry and furry. Clearly, she was hungover. And somehow she was falling out of bed.

"Owen?" she spoke tentatively. Silence.

She opened her eyes again, wincing at the pain. She needed to get upright again, being upside down was not helping her headache. She thought about trying to push herself back into the bed, but that effort seemed impossible. She slowly put her arms out, braced herself, then slid out of the bed. She sat up, feeling weak.

"Owen?" she called out. Still no answer.

She stood up shakily. She frowned to discover she was in her underwear. What happened to my dress? What happened last night?

She grabbed one of Owen's t-shirts. She pulled it on and went into the living room. There was no sign of Owen, nor was there a note. She poured herself a glass of water and took two aspirin. Then she made her way to the couch and laid down, because the room was spinning too much for her liking.

There was a pillow and a blanket on the couch, indicating someone had spent the night there. Why would Owen sleep here? He hasn't had a nightmare in a long time. She tried to think.

Last night was Steve and Olivia's wedding. His Army buddy and their syph nurse. Owen was called into surgery at the last minute, so she had to go by herself. Derek and Meredith gave her a ride to the reception. She'd had a bad day and was irritable after having to sit through yet another wedding, and she didn't even have the promise of wedding sex to look forward to.

So she got drunk. Owen showed up late and frowned at her.

"You're still on antibiotics, take it easy," he said, sitting down with her at their table.

"I can pace myself," she muttered. "You can be the designated driver, right?"

"Right. But with what you're taking, you know that you shouldn't be drinking at all-"

"I am not your patient!" she snapped.

He sighed. "So, how was the wedding?"

"Boring. One of those long Catholic services."

He sighed and stood up. "I'm going to say hi to Steve and get a soda. Want something besides vodka?"

"Hell no."

Cristina frowned. She got up and walked into the kitchen, looking at a counter that she'd barely glanced at before. There was a bouquet of flowers and a garter on it.

She was working on her drink when someone tugged on her arm.

"It's time for the bouquet toss!" Lexie said, pulling Cristina up. "Come on, we can't miss it!"

"Yes we can," Cristina muttered, stumbling after Lexie. She was tired of bouquet tosses, she was tired of wedding receptions, she was tired of weddings, period.

"Whoa, how drunk are you?" one of the nurses asked, as Cristina bumped into her, taking her place with the other single women.

"I'm not drunk," she protested. She noticed how intense Lexie was looking, and had a naughty thought. Cristina rolled her eyes, smirked and started flexing her arms to warm them up.

After a few minutes of teasing, Olivia turned her back, and then tossed the bouquet. Feeling competitive, Cristina jumped up and snagged it away from Lexie.

"Ha!" she laughed, while Lexie made a hurt puppy face, and the DJ called for all the single men to gather.

"What's gotten into you?" Meredith asked, as Cristina passed her on her way back to the table. "You went after that like a cobra."

"I hate to lose," Cristina shrugged.

"You elbowed Lexie in the face," Derek laughed.

Owen approached her, smiling quizzically. "Congratulations?"

"It's mine, all mine," she chortled. "Now go get the garter."

He looked questioningly at her before joining the other single men. Meredith also looked at Cristina curiously while they turned to watch the proceedings.

After some good-natured razzing, the groom finally slingshotted the garter at the waiting men. Cristina smiled triumphantly as Owen managed to snag it.

Cristina frowned and looked at the bouquet and the garter. I'm forgetting something. Something really important.

She paced around the living room. They hadn't had wedding sex, her body would have told her that. One did not have sex with Owen Hunt and forget it.

Wedding. Sex.

Meredith found her in the ladies' room, pounding on the condom dispenser with one hand, clutching the bouquet with the other. "Easy, Cristina!" her friend said.

"Wait," a passing guest, said, reaching into her purse. She pulled out a condom and gave it to Cristina. "Must be some guy you need that for," she said with a wink.

"I thought you were on the pill," Meredith said, frowning as Cristina stuck the condom in her bra.

"I am," Cristina slurred, leaving the ladies' room. "But I'm also on antibiotics thanks to my dental work, and you're a doctor, you know how it works."

"Right," Meredith said. "But don't you have condoms at home? You didn't have to attack that poor defenceless machine."

"I did have to attack it. Owen and I haven't had our wedding sex yet."

Meredith stared at her. "Your what?"

"Wedding sex. Owen and I do it at weddings," Cristina explained, stumbling over to the chairs where their men waited, now joined by Mark and Callie. "We have to fuck by the end of the reception or it doesn't count."

"No more vodka for you," Owen smiled at her, turning pink as their friends laughed.

"Okay, I need to hear about this," Derek chortled, pulling up a chair for Cristina.

"No you don't!" Owen objected with a laugh.

"Hear about what?" Alex pulled up a chair.

"Owen and Cristina like to fuck at weddings!" Mark laughed.

Owen pretended to cover his face with one hand while their group expanded. "This stays between us," he insisted. "Don't forget I know a lot of your secrets!"

They assured Owen they could keep a secret, but he looked doubtful. Cristina didn't care, she was drunk and she had an audience.

"It started at your wedding," Cristina announced, pointing at Derek and Meredith. "We did it right after the ceremony and before the pictures. So hot."

"I knew it!" Alex laughed. "I heard you say something about panties when I came to get you for the photos!"

"That – that is why you're so happy in the photos? I thought you were happy for me!" Meredith protested.

"I was happy for all of us," Cristina assured her. "Really, really happy."

"Nasty!" Alex laughed, elbowing Owen, who was trying to be a good sport.

"Laugh all you want, Alex," Meredith smiled. "I'm pretty sure they did it at your wedding to Julie too."


"How did you know?" Cristina asked, while Owen looked like he wanted to disappear.

"I went into the ladies' room at the courthouse and recognized your shoes under the door to the handicapped stall," Meredith smirked. "But I didn't stay, I'm not that dark and twisty."

"The ladies' room?!?"

"The handicapped stall?"

Owen shrugged helplessly. "We were just being – spontaneous."

"And then we did it at his mother's wedding reception," Cristina continued, to gales of laughter. "Owen planned ahead. It was romantic."

Alex clapped Owen on the shoulder. "That's kind of sweet. And twisted."

"Wait –" Mark frowned. "You didn't do it at my wedding, did you? The ceremony and the reception were in the same church!"

"We did it in one of the Sunday School classrooms," Cristina informed him. "Owen wouldn't do it in the actual church part."

"I have some standards," Owen grinned bashfully. "And the minister's office was locked."

"Which – never mind, I don't want to know," Mark muttered. "Some day I'm going to have a kid in that room!"

"I have a question!" Callie interrupted. "Are we talking only doing it at wedding weddings?"

"We'll do it at your handfasting," Cristina told her. "Equal opportunity sex should be awesome." Callie high-fived her.

"Tell us another one," Alex urged.

"No," Owen protested. Mark clapped him on the shoulder.

"Owen, all this time, I thought you were just an officer and a gentleman. It's nice to know you have your kinky side," he assured him.

"I got one," Derek announced smugly. "The wedding in the woods, when Shadow Shepherd married Sydney. Am I right?"

"Do I want to know how you know?" Owen groaned. His face was now as red as his hair.

"I went to take a leak and some guy with a really white ass was having sex in the back seat of Owen's truck."

"I think we've heard enough." Meredith said, as the rest of the group, minus Owen, dissolved in laughter.

"No no!" they protested.

Cristina stared at the bouquet in horror. What the hell happened next? Owen had been embarrassed and probably furious with her, even if he wouldn't show it in front of their friends.

There were catcalls as Owen and Meredith tried to coax her out the door. Owen gave up trying to politely persuade her, and finally just scooped her up and carried her outside. She had vague memories of Meredith helping get her into his truck.

"But we haven't had sex yet," Cristina protested as he did up her seatbelt.

"I have standards," Owen muttered. "You're way too drunk for me."

"I am not!" she retorted. "We could do it in the back again. I have a condom." She started patting her breasts, feeling around for the foil package.

"You're also too drunk to be any good," he shot back, fastening his own seatbelt. "Good night, Meredith."

"Good night," Meredith said, closing the passenger door and leaving them alone.

Cristina was jarred out of her hazy memories by her cell phone ringing.

"Hi Mer," she mumbled into the phone.

"You live!" her friend laughed. "I thought I'd call to see if you were conscious yet."

"Barely." Cristina started to pace. "I'm trying to remember everything that happened last night. Did I call you after we left the reception?"

"No. Do you remember what happened at the reception?"

"I was drunk, I caught the bouquet, Owen got the garter, and I told way too much about the wedding sex. What am I missing?"


Cristina winced. "Puking?"

"All over you, me, and Owen, on the sidewalk. You really should not have been drinking while on that antibiotic Cris-"

"You're not my mom," Cristina snapped. "Sorry."

"How is Owen?"

"I don't know," Cristina sighed. "I woke up on the bedroom floor in my underwear, all alone in the apartment. There's no note. I remember him being angry but I don't remember what happened after we left. I think I'm missing something important."

Meredith paused. "He's crazy in love with you, even though you do have a big mouth when you're drunk. And as far as I know, nobody has said anything about the wedding sex. He's probably out for a run or something."

"I hope so." Cristina looked over by the door and frowned to see Owen's running shoes there.

"Anyways, gotta go. I just wanted to check on you before Derek and I pull out our wedding album and look at the photos more closely."

"Ha ha."



Cristina put away her phone. She stared at the bouquet some more before shrugging.

"Fuck it," she said. "I'm going to get some more sleep."


She woke up in their bed, hours later. Stumbled out again. Still no sign of Owen. She helped herself to some more aspirin, before making herself a sandwich which she quickly wolfed down.

The bouquet was still on the counter, taunting her. She sighed and picked up her cell phone. She called Owen's cell phone and got his voice mail. She hung up without leaving a message and went into the bathroom to take a shower.


When she came out into the kitchen, dressed in a robe and towel-drying her hair, Owen was in the kitchen. He was putting away groceries.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hey there now!" he said loudly. She winced.

He continued with his task. "I told you not to drink-"

"Yeah yeah," she muttered. "And, um, sorry."

He turned and faced her, leaning against a counter. He looked grim. "Sorry for what?"

She rolled her eyes. He would make her spell it out, wouldn't he? "Not listening to your excellent medical advice, puking all over you, and um, talking about the wedding sex."

"Ah yes."

"Do – do you think anyone told?"

He shrugged. "I got called into the hospital this morning for a multiple car crash. Bailey didn't yell at me, so I guess that's a good sign. Although a lot of people asked how hungover you were."

"Whatever." She looked at him. "We didn't break up last night, did we?"

He frowned. "No, I did recall that I made a total ass out of myself while drunk once. We agreed to call it even, remember?" His eyes twinkled a bit.

"Oh." She ran her fingers through her damp hair. "I don't remember everything that happened last night. And when you weren't here this morning, I didn't know what to think."

"I forgot to leave a note," he shrugged. "And then I had to take our clothes to the dry cleaner and get groceries."

He looked at her with a small smile. "What do you remember?"

"I know I'm missing something important!" she grumbled. "I know we didn't have wedding sex, I know I'm going to be paying for the dry cleaning and why, but I don't remember what did happen!"

He picked up the bouquet and handed it to her. "Think about it."

He helped her out of the truck. "Don't forget the bouquet!" she yelled. "I had to take out Lexie to get that!"

He sighed and reached into the truck. "Here," he said, shoving it at her.

"I didn't puke in the truck, did I?" Cristina asked Owen.


He held her hair while she vomited in the toilet of their bathroom. Then he commanded her to stand still and he peeled her dress off of her.

"I bet the reception is still going on," she grinned at him. "We still have time."

"No," he said. "We are not having wedding sex tonight, or any other night. Since I doubt we're ever getting invited to another wedding."

She smirked and reached down, grabbing at his crotch.

"Hell no," he said forcefully, while stepping back. She stumbled forward and he caught her, carefully grabbing her wrists and raising them high above her head. "You're not seducing me tonight. If you haven't noticed, I'm not in the mood."

"Sorry," she slurred. "I shouldn't have told about the sex. I just want to make it up to you."

"I just want to go to sleep," he sighed, releasing her wrists. "I'll sleep on the couch and you sleep in the bed because I don't want you puking on me again."

She stared at him while he quickly pulled his clothes off. "I've fucked this up," she said sadly.

He sighed and shook his head. "Just – go to sleep." He turned and left the room.

She sat down on the floor beside the toilet and hugged her knees. She picked up the bouquet that she'd dropped before puking. She stood up again.

She went into the living room, where Owen was setting up a bed on the couch.

"Owen –" she licked her lips. "Owen – see this bouquet?"

"I see it," he frowned.

"The next bouquet I hold – I want it to be mine," she whispered.

He stared at her.

"I'm tired of going to weddings that aren't ours," she continued, looking down at the flowers. "I know I've said a million times that marriage is not for me, but I think I meant that marriage wasn't for me at that time."

She looked up at him. He was looking at her, his blue eyes growing warm. She handed him the bouquet.

"I thought you should know that," she said. Then turned and ran for the bathroom, so she could throw up again.

Cristina stared at Owen. "Oh shit."

"Now you remember!" he grinned.

He held her hair again. Then held her, as she collapsed against him, crying a little. He sat down with her and stroked her hair while she apologized repeatedly and sniffled. He laid down with her on the bed until she passed out.

She looked down at the bouquet in her hands. Then she looked back up at Owen.

"Want to get married?" he asked.






They quickly ran out of the back door and into the alley behind Joe's, not looking back. Laughing, they ran down the alley, holding hands.

They rounded the corner and sprinted the block to their apartment building. They quickly ran through the lobby and up the stairs to their apartment. Owen pulled out his keys and unlocked the door while Cristina tried to catch her breath.

He reached down and scooped her up.

"I can walk," she protested, gasping.

"It's tradition," he grinned. "I have to carry my bride over the threshold."

"Well, if it's a tradition, go for it," she smiled. He carried her inside, stopping only to kick the door shut behind them, before carrying her all the way into their bedroom, and then carefully setting her down.

"Now for our tradition," he said, kissing her and pulling her close.

Cristina quickly kicked off her shoes and threw off her wrap as Owen undid his pants. She flung herself at him, kissing him and pressing him up against the door, reaching down to stroke his cock, already growing hard.

"I thought we'd never get away from the reception," he mumbled, reaching behind to unzip her dress.

"I know!" Cristina stepped back just enough to slip out of her simple sheath dress, letting the opaque material fall at her feet.

Owen stared. "That – that barely qualifies as panties."

She smiled and twirled around, showing off the transparent bits of fabric that went with her white garter belt and hose. "This is my something new for our wedding day. You like?"

"I love. And I love you."

"Good, because you're stuck with me now." She reached behind and unhooked her strapless bra, before letting it fall and stepping back into Owen's arms. The two of them managed to get him out of his dress uniform in record time. Once she had him naked, Cristina rubbed up against him, teasing his shaft with her warm wet folds.

He groaned as she stroked him. She delighted in watching his reactions. He opened his eyes and smiled at her, caressing her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples just to tease. Their lips met and their tongues twined, breaking apart only when Owen laid Cristina down on their bed.

Cristina bit her lip as she felt his hot breath on her stomach, before he undid her belt and grasped the thin strips of her panties, smoothly removing them. Then he was over her, gathering her up in his strong arms, kissing her silly. She laughed, feeling the joy between them, and pulled his face closer to deepen the experience.

He lifted himself up enough so that he could fill her with one heated stroke. His tongue in her mouth began to mimic the motions of his hips, eliciting groans from her. He threaded his fingers through her hair, as if he couldn't get his fill of her. She responded by pulling him even closer, wrapping her arms around him, as they created the most delicious friction and heat. He heightened the experience by slipping a hand between them and coaxing her into a rush of heated pleasure, joining her in a shared release as they moaned into each other's mouth.

"Now that was wedding sex!" she gasped as he moved off of her and curled against her.

She felt him smile against her shoulder, as his left hand lifted hers. They looked at their two hands together, adorned with the rings they'd exchanged just hours earlier.

"I – I'm going to say something," she said. He chuckled softly, knowing how much she hated romantic declarations but was compelled to make them anyways.

"I'm glad we made it to this point. And I want more than forty years," she said quickly, squeezing his hand.

"Okay," he whispered, kissing her neck.

"We probably should go back to the reception."

"Probably." He started nibbling.

"Owen!" She laughed and rolled out of his arms. "Our mothers wanted a picture with all of us together and they haven't had that yet. Do you want my mother coming here to look for us?"

"Not really," he snorted. "That would be a mood killer."

They started to get dressed hastily – then slowed down and took their time, exchanging touches and kisses that promised much more later. Finally dressed – with her flimsy panties safely tucked away on Owen's person, they grabbed each other's hands and went outside the door.

Epilogue Part Two

Finally dressed – with her flimsy panties safely tucked away on Owen's person, they grabbed each other's hands and went outside the door.

"There you are!" They turned and looked at the tall lanky man marching up to them in the upstairs hallway of the community centre.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," James told them. "Grandma Hunt wants to say goodbye before she goes home for the night. Where have you been?"

"Just making sure everything was going okay," Owen grinned sheepishly.

"And?" He looked at them curiously.

"Everything's good," Cristina smiled. "Very good."

Their son arched an eyebrow. "I'd ask why Dad's vest is buttoned up wrong, but I don't think I want to know. I don't need that kind of image right before my honeymoon!" He turned and headed back downstairs to the reception.

"Ha ha, we got caught!" Cristina laughed as she helped Owen fix his vest. He grinned slyly.

"At least he didn't walk in on us during."

"Unlike poor Lexie that one time." They laughed.

"Funny that she didn't invite us to her anniversary party," Cristina snickered, taking Owen's arm as they descended the stairs.

"Funny that our friends wouldn't let us leave ours," he said. "Like they thought we were up to no good."

"We were! We were forced to do it in a bathroom again, remember?"

"I could never forget," he said, pausing to kiss her briefly. "Come on, dirty girl."