A/N: Super-Duper extermely proud of this part! Its kinda've cutesy but I think its one of my best. As always let me know what you think.
After a paticuraly tough day Cristina lay curled up on the couch alone in her apartment wishing, for the first time in a long time for company, but not just anyone his company. She remembered how he'd looked that morning with little to no sleep and rumpled scrubs his greeting had been, "Yang you're on my service". Today he was quiet and seemed pensive, tired and something Cristina couldn't place. It seemed as though he needed company just as much as her.
He sat on the edge of his seat leaning forward head in hands memories that plagued him even when he slept ran through his mind. Sleep was generally something he avoided at least while awake he had some semblance of control but while asleep he couldn't account for his actions. Running his hands through his hair, a habit he had recently acquired, he picked up his glass of whiskey from the table.
Cristina couldn't sit another moment, rather than be alone she grabbed her coat leaving the apartment behind. Maybe she was still alone but out in the cold night air accompanied by the sounds of traffic and the wind was better than the silence of the apartment. That night it seemed everyone had someone but her.
Sitting still, letting thoughts bombard him did no good. People often say that silence is golden but he wished for noise that proved life, proved he wasn't totally alone. So after polishing off his drink he headed out not thinking to bring a coat though he was well aware of the drastic drop in temperature that night.
Aimlessly Cristina wandered through the frigid streets of Seattle no destination in mind but unwilling to return to her apartment, not yet. Up ahead she saw someone walking slowly, hands buried deep in their pockets, back to her. She would recognize that person anywhere even from behind; he'd been in her thoughts for so long, Owen. Quickly she caught up to him "Owen," was all she said before resting a hand on his shoulder his reaction was shocking. He jumped then flew around to face her hand raised as if to strike. Cristina gasped alarmed by the intense look on his face. For the first time in her life she was physically afraid of a man. Trying to put some distance between them she took a step back hitting the wall of the building behind her. Owen lowered his hand. As reality swept back in, the honest fear on Cristina's face registered and he instantly hated it, hating even more the fact that he'd caused it.
"Cristina, wha..." He stuttered, at a loss for words. "what are you doing out here."
"Walking" Her dark eyes now intently studied his face taking in everything from the lines of his forehead, to the worry and distress in his eyes. He could almost see her mind working, trying to figure out where the pain came from, what worried him. "Where's your coat." She asked, a question, which coming from Cristina seemed exceedingly strange.
"You're cold" Her brow furrowed.
He shrugged once continuing to stare at Cristina who seemed to think for a moment before twining her arm around his "Come on"
"My place, its close and you're freezing."
The matter of fact way in which she spoke made him want to argue but tremors occasionally running through his body made it impossible to deny.
When they finaly came to her apartment he hated to admit it but the warmth was a relief. Cristina was exactly the company he'd been looking for. They sat the couch side by side with at least half a foot between them. Owen was the first to speak, asking a very blunt question. "What would you do if I kissed you right now. He couldn't look at her to see her reaction his eyes remained glued to his hands which sat in his lap. In his peripheral he saw her head shoot up for what seemed like forever she silently stared at him before tking his face between her hands and kissing him. Once his shock wore off he placed a single hand against her neck the instant it made contact she pulled back sharply. Obviously she saw the question in his eyes when a grin spread across her face "Your hands are like ice."