Crowen Oneshots: What If...

Ghosts

What if Cristina and Owen got a moment alone together after Derek's funeral...

Cristina sat quietly on the porch of the Shepherd-Grey house, the cold wind caressing her face. Her eyes scanned the front yard that met the woods.

      The weather was gloomy and cloudy. It was cold. Just appropriate for the day.

     She let her body sag on the bench to match the heavy weight of her heart. Cristina hadn't expected to be back in Seattle just a year after she left, let alone be back for someone's funeral.

Along with that, she didn't think she was ready to see him yet. She worked so hard the past year to be 'fine', and she was afraid that will all crumble down.

     But there she was, on the porch, coming up for air from the reception. It wasn't a brainer to get the question on why she was back. Meredith needed her to come back. They lost a friend. Her person lost her other person and is now husband-less.

     She heard footsteps creak on the wood flooring of the porch approach her. Cristina had a guess on who it was.

"I wish I had a cigarette, right now," she said out loud without tearing her eyes off of the lawn.

    Cristina heard him chuckle. "But you don't smoke." He walked over to her and settled himself on the other end of the bench.

   "I know. But it just feels appropriate," she said then finally turning her head to face him. She caught a glimpse of him at the funeral earlier, but he was occupied with Derek's little sister. Cristina wouldn't like to admit that her chest did a little jump then and how it did it again. Their distances were a lot closer now.

    She leaned on her knees and rested her head in her hands, her curly locks cascading down her shoulder. "Hey," she said quietly.

     Those brown eyes were soft that only few fortunate ones got to see and the soft smile on her lips—Owen's chest did a flutter too.

     He was brought back to the memory when he first said to her that he thought she was beautiful. When he waited in front of her apartment building like some weirdo. That felt like a lifetime ago. God, he had missed her.

     "Hi," his voice low.

She gave a small smile in his response then leaned back on the bench, taking her eyes back to the greenery. "The girls are too young to be in the club."

Owen was confused at first on what she was talking about but then he remembered. The Dead Dads Club. It was a club that sucked once you're in it.

He was about to say something, but she didn't give him a chance. "I think we should form another club. The Dead Friends Club," she continued on.

His heart ached thinking about Derek, but his chest tightened more hearing how Cristina talked. She talked more morbidly than usual when she was a shitstorm inside.

Owen looked at the hand resting on her thigh. He wanted to wrap his around her nimble hand to give some comfort, to let her know it'll be okay. But didn't think it would be appropriate. He wasn't even sure himself either that it'll be alright. He wasn't okay. She wasn't okay. Meredith wasn't okay. None of them were.

Owen took a deep breath in of the crisp night air. "Neither clubs are fun to be in."

She let out humorless chuckle. "No, they aren't fun."

     A quiet moment passed, neither awkward or comforting.

"So," Cristina sat up a little which made Owen finally look up from her hand. "You and Lady Shepherd?"