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Cristina has a type. Intelligent, attractive, calm in the eye of a storm. She’s the first to admit she’s drawn to stability, but more than that she’s drawn to experience. People whose hands are steady because they’ve done something a million times, sinking into the actions with ease that makes her envious, something burning in her bloodstream. An ugly sort of jealousy, an insistent sort of itch.
She has a type is her point. They all do. Alex, as hard as he tries, is drawn to the girls who can smile and laugh with the best of them, but there’s something brewing beneath the surface. Girls he can fix or lose himself in. Meredith likes guys with dreamy eyes and hair and capable, strong hands. She likes guys who fix things, whether it be people or animals. She also has a small, tiny thing for girls with sharp eyes and wobbling, delicate smiles that shine like the sun. A rarity in Seattle, like a flower springing forth from the earth. Lexie has a thing for guys that don’t allow for happy endings. She invests too much of herself into them, and when things go south, her heart is left underfoot, thrown in the gutter and discarded.
She’s certainly not the first to have a type, and she’s definitely not the first to get a little surgical crush. Hell, it’s not even the first time she’s had a surgical crush. This thing she has for Teddy, though, it’s different from what she had with Burke. With Burke, it had blossomed into more, into a relationship. She doesn’t like Teddy like that, and more importantly Teddy doesn’t like her like that. Cristina is nothing more than a student to Teddy, maybe a friend depending on how hard the day has been on them. The more grueling, the more open and forthcoming Teddy is. In part, Cristina loathes those days. The other part of her longs for them, for the moment that Teddy’s weary eyes meet hers and her smile softens, exhaustion etched into the blonde’s face. Teddy always has her guard up, intentionally or not. The hard days relax her restraints, allow some form of expression to cross her face.
Cristina likes these days best. They make her feel accomplished in ways the easy days don’t. The easy days end with a nod from Teddy, blonde hair bobbing, and a genuine compliment falling from pink lips. The hard days end with honesty, a glimpse behind the persona of Teddy Altman, amazing, brilliant surgeon and into the reality of Teddy Altman, the woman who drinks beer on her couch after work, looking like some sort of surfer lost on her way to a competition.
Meredith had laughed the first time she said it, her eyes brightening and her smile widening. Alex had huffed his way through a laugh and a head shake while Lexie ignored them, too preoccupied with shooting lovesick glances around the cafeteria.
Sometimes, Cristina doesn’t remember why she hated Teddy when she first got here. Teddy’s the perfect teacher. She’s steady, she has a firm hand, and there’s steel in her voice. Teddy can soften and Teddy can harden. Her touch can be as cool as ice or as scalding as boiling water. Teddy’s an adaptor. It’s what makes her such a good doctor. She can do the work with ease and dedication, her eyes sharp even in the latest of hours. She can float through conversation with patients with grace, her eyes kind and her voice knowing. She doesn’t get attached too often, and she knows her own limits, but she’s always expanding them. She pushes herself to do better, to be the best, but she doesn’t overstep. She’s acutely aware of herself, and maybe she’s acutely aware of Cristina too.
She knows Cristina’s limits, what she can and can’t do. She knows them better than Cristina knows them. She knows when Cristina needs a soft touch or a firm hand. She can steady Cristina when she’s stuck in her head, fingers tightly clutching the scalpel, the patient beneath them. It’s rare that Cristina is unsure of her own skill, but when she is, Teddy is right there to coach her through anything. Her voice is silky and confident, gentle and tactful. Teddy is amazing, in and out of the operating room. Cristina is in awe of her everyday.
It makes sense that she’s got a crush on Teddy. A small one, barely noticeable and certainly manageable. It’s nothing, really, but admiration of a teacher, of a guide. A mentor, even. Cristina doesn’t have many heroes, but Teddy Altman is one of them. There’s no doubt about that. If Cristina wasn’t in love with Owen, she might even think it’s more than it truly is. Owen is the one she goes home to at the end of the day, and most of her thoughts don’t include Teddy at all. Sure, the blonde lingers, but they do work together, and Cristina’s always been career oriented.
She’s secure in her relationship with Owen. He makes her happy, and he understands her as best as someone besides Mer can. She has full faith in him, in them. That’s why she tells him about Teddy.
“So, what, you have a crush on Teddy?” They’re lying together in bed, his arm around her waist as they face each other. He traces patterns along her skin, sometimes even writing her name in cursive.
Cristina nods. “Yeah, I mean, she’s a talented surgeon. God, Owen, she’s amazing in the O.R., and if I had any doubt before it’s gone. She’s already helped me grow and learn so much.”
Cristina watches the corner of Owen’s lips twitch up, his eyes crinkling in the corners which tells her that his laughter is genuine. His mouth falls open, teeth glinting in the overhead light. It’s kind of harsh lighting, but Cristina doesn’t really care about things like that. Owen’s joy is contained to his face and his voice, his laugh loud and his face bright, but it doesn’t extend to the rest of his body like Teddy’s joy. Cristina’s seen the way Teddy’s face lights up, lit from within, and the shake of her shoulders and the way she tips her head back when she cackles at a particularly funny joke. Sometimes, she snorts, and she gets this blush that dusts along her cheeks and highlights the faint freckles on her skin, tiny dots scattered along her nose and jawline.
“You’re not upset?” Cristina asks carefully.
Owen shakes his head, reaching out and planting a kiss to her head. “No, I’m not mad. I’m glad you guys are getting along so well. I had hoped that you two would become friends, and it’s nice to know that that’s a reality.” He smiles at her, a pleasant warmth in his eyes as he crawls out of bed to shut the light off. When he gets back into bed, he runs his hand through her hair and pulls her into an embrace, the faint sounds of a late night talk show drifting in from the living room. Cristina notices that his touch is lukewarm.
After that, Cristina allows herself to notice more about Teddy. Owen is happy, she’s happy, Teddy’s happy. She’s learning is the most important thing. After all, she just has a tiny professional crush on Teddy. It would be weird if she didn’t learn from her. Observation is just another way for her to learn, so she does just that. She mimics Teddy’s posture, the way she stands, how she holds the scalpel. Teddy’s fingers are longer than Cristina’s, but they’re equally thin. Piano hands, Cristina thinks when she looks at them. Her mother used to bemoan the tragic length of Cristina’s fingers. If they had only been a little longer, she would have been perfect for piano.
Whatever. It’s not like Cristina ever wanted to play the piano. She never needed hands for piano, she needed hands for surgery. Cristina happens to think her hands are perfect for surgery.
When Teddy is concentrating deeply, she gets this look on her face, her eyes set and her mouth pursed. Sometimes, she’ll bite down on her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood if she’s not careful. She notices that Teddy uses the scalpel as an extension of herself, her movements smooth and sure. She applies the perfect amount of pressure without even thinking, automatically reaching to do it as if it’s second nature.
Teddy has sharp eyes. She sees a lot. Cristina does too. She watches like a hawk, eyes trained on Teddy to observe her movements, filing away important information to employ in future surgeries. She has no doubt that Teddy’s noticed her increased attention, the awareness present in every interaction they have, bright and aware during surgery. Cristina is a sponge soaking in all that she can.
It’s no wonder that Teddy pulls her aside one day, taking Cristina by the wrist and pulling her into an on call room. When she speaks, her voice is hushed in the quiet room. “What’s going on with you?” She asks bluntly.
Cristina’s eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“What’s going on with you?” She repeats, concern evident in her voice.
“I-” Cristina’s voice wavers. “Nothing.”
Teddy shakes her head. “No, don’t lie to me. You’ve been watching me, Cristina. A lot more than you used to. Why?” There’s something strange in Teddy’s gaze, and when she stares into Cristina’s eyes it’s like she’s searching for something.
Cristina’s compelled to give it to her, but she doesn’t know what it is. Teddy takes a step forward, her eyes questioning. The space between them burns, the oxygen leaking out of the room. Cristina doesn’t know where it goes, but she knows it’s gone. There’s something shifting in the air, something turning and changing and twisting. “I want to learn everything I can from you.” She says, her voice low in a way that sounds intimate to her own ears. It’s the wrong thing to say judging by the way something dies out in Teddy’s shining green eyes, but Cristina can’t take it back, can only elaborate on it further. “You’ve been doing surgery for years. Everything is instinctual to you, it’s all second nature. I want that. I want it so badly it feels like it’s choking me sometimes. I want to be an amazing surgeon. I want to be you, Teddy.” The words drip off her tongue like syrup, sweet and sticky. They’re pulled from her like teeth at the dentist, but they all come out in a rush, an outpour of emotion.
“Oh.” Teddy says, and she steps back. She almost sounds disappointed, and Cristina feels like she can almost breathe again, but the closeness is gone, evaporated and vanished. She wants it back, wants to explore its depths even though she isn’t sure what it is or what there is to explore. “Oh.” She says again.
“Teddy, I-”
“God,” She mutters to herself. Cristina has to strain to hear her, Teddy’s voice a whisper more than anything else. An exhale of breath on the wind, if that. “I am so stupid. They told me, but I thought-” Teddy shakes her head abruptly, mouth closing firmly as she glances up and meets Cristina’s eye. There’s something sad in them. “I’m glad you’re okay, Cristina.” She says, her voice pausing as if she means it, something deep and genuine echoing in her words and the tone of her voice.
She breezes past Cristina, careful to avoid touching her in any way. She leaves Cristina standing there, something horrible crawling up her spine. She doesn’t understand why it feels like she just told a lie. Cristina can’t pinpoint what it was but she can feel it in the solid set of her bones, a truth that shakes her to her core.
After awhile, Cristina leaves the on call room, catching Meredith as she exits. She tries to forget the conversation with Teddy even happened.
It doesn’t work.
When it comes to Teddy, it seems like nothing can keep her thoughts at bay. She thinks about her all the time. She dreams about her, the color her hair would turn drenched in the sunlight, and the gleam of her green eyes. Once, she wakes up alone in one of the on call rooms, convinced she can still hear Teddy’s laughter echoing in the room, rattling around in her head.
Owen keeps asking her if she’s feeling alright, pressing his hand to her forehead as if she’s a child with a fever. Meredith shoots her worried looks over her lackluster enthusiasm that not even surgery can cure. Teddy pretends nothing is amiss, but sometimes Cristina catches her staring at her, brows furrowed as she chews on her bottom lip. She looks sad in a way that is so entirely visceral it makes Cristina’s heart flip upside down and back around. Cristina sees her talking to Mark Sloan once during lunch, their heads bent together as they whispered about something. Whatever it was it made Teddy flinch, a weary, resigned expression on her face, and then Mark said something that made her laugh, the sound pulled from her without reluctance. It had surprised Cristina, and it had surprised Teddy too. Watching them for too long makes Cristina frown without fail, but it takes a concerted amount of effort to not notice the way Lexie frowns too.
There’s something strained between them now. Cristina hates it. She hates that Teddy hesitates to touch her. Before, it had been thoughtless exchanges. A hand on the shoulder, a guiding hand on the small of Cristina’s back. Now, Teddy takes care to avoid touching her, even when it’s obvious she was going to. Once, Teddy had reached out to touch her shoulder and hesitated right before she actually did.
She had tried to play it off as if she had been reaching for lint stuck in Cristina’s hair, but she knows the truth. Not to mention, it had still been awkward to have Teddy lean in close to get imaginary lint out of her hair, her face close to Cristina’s, close enough that Cristina could have counted the freckles dotting Teddy’s tanned skin if she had wanted to.
Cristina doesn’t know what happened that made their interactions so awkward, but she’s determined to fix it.
“Have a drink with me.” Cristina says, leaning against the doorframe as Teddy finishes tying her shoes.
Teddy turns around, her shoulders stiffening when she hears Cristina’s voice. She reaches up and weaves a hand through her golden hair, smiling goodnaturedly. “Uh, I’m good, thanks. Rain check?”
“No.” Cristina shakes her head firmly. “You’re going to have a drink with me at the bar. We’re going to fix whatever went wrong between us because it’s awkward and tense and I miss you, Teddy. I miss my mentor and I miss my friend.”
Teddy’s face softens, her eyes warming up. “I miss you too.” They stand there for a minute while Teddy weighs her options, her keys heavy in one hand and her purse perched on one shoulder. “Okay. I’ll have a drink with you.” She says because she misses Cristina, and probably because Cristina’s not giving her a choice.
“Good.” Cristina says, and they go to the bar and they get a drink.
Teddy gets a beer and plays darts. Cristina watches, heckling her until Teddy challenges her to a game. “You scared, Yang?” She teases, her eyes bright and her voice bubbling over with warmth and familiarity, and this is what Cristina’s been missing.
“Of you? No.” Cristina scoffs. “I’m going to crush you.” She informs Teddy matter of factly before snatching a dart from Teddy. Her first throw misses wildly, Teddy looking on bemusedly. Okay, so Cristina’s never played darts before. How was she supposed to know it wasn’t going to be easy on a stomach full of three shots of tequila and a beer because she had wanted to test Teddy’s taste in alcohol.
“You suck!” Teddy tells her cheerfully.
“What? I do not!” Cristina argues, aiming her next throw carefully. It doesn’t go better than her first throw to say the least.
“Here, let me show you how to do it.” Before Cristina can protest that she’s got it handled, really, Teddy stepping behind her, one hand falling to her waist and the other taking her arm. She fixes Cristina’s position, adjusting the angle of her hand and tilting her head so she’ll be able to follow it through with her eyes. Teddy coaches her through it verbally, her breath warm against Cristina’s neck. She’s a little dizzy from it all. Teddy hasn’t touched her in awhile, and Cristina can feel the warmth of her palm despite the shirt she’s wearing.
Cristina hits a bullseye, and Teddy cheers for her, laughing brightly. If Cristina could focus more, she’d be able to hear the slight tremor in her laugh. “I think I’m gonna grab another drink.” Cristina murmurs.
“Good idea.” Teddy follows her back to the bar, grabbing a third beer.
If Cristina had known Teddy was such a lightweight, she wouldn’t have taken her out for a drink. Three beers proves to be a match for Teddy Altman. The two tequila shots Cristina had dared her to take probably didn’t help either. They get a cab and go to Cristina’s apartment, Teddy leaning her head on Cristina’s shoulder and laughing into her neck the whole way. “Owen’s on call tonight so you can stay.” Cristina watches the uncertainty in Teddy’s eyes, and her heart almost sinks. “If you want.” She hastily adds.
“I-” For a second, Cristina thinks she’s going to say no, but an expression Cristina can’t name passes over her face. It’s gone within seconds, and Cristina wonders if it was ever really there. “Yeah, okay. I’ll stay.”
Something akin to relief sweeps through Cristina’s entire body. “Good.” Cristina murmurs, the cab halting in front of Cristina’s apartment. It’s technically a shared apartment, but since Cristina knew about it before Callie did, she thinks of it as hers.
She throws a t-shirt at Teddy when they get to Cristina’s room. She’s already in the process of undressing, shimmying her jeans down her hips, when she notices that Teddy’s not moving. She’s just holding the shirt in her hands and staring at it like it holds the secrets of the universe. “You alright?” Cristina asks, pulling her jeans off and tossing them aside. She’s slipped her shirt off and replaced it within seconds, reaching behind her and undoing the hooks of her bra.
Teddy shakes her head, a light chuckle falling from her lips. “Yeah, I’m good.” When she pulls her jeans off, she folds them and sets them on the dresser to her left. She does the same with her shirt and bra. Cristina crawls into bed, motioning for Teddy to turn the light off. She complies and crawls into bed.
Cristina can’t really see in front of her, squinting through the darkness and imagining that Teddy is doing the same.
“Goodnight.” Teddy whispers, her voice soft.
“Goodnight.” Cristina replies, her voice rough for reasons she can’t understand quite yet.
In the morning, Cristina will wake up with Teddy’s arms around her and a mouthful of blonde hair. Teddy’s skin will burn against hers, but it’s a nice kind of burn. She’ll fall back asleep, eased by the gentle heat consuming her. When she wakes up again, Teddy will be gone and there’ll be a quiet sort of disappointment in her heart, leaking out between the bones comprising her ribcage.
To her delight, Teddy will be in the kitchen, smiling hesitantly and offering coffee. Cristina’s never felt so at ease in anyplace but the operating room. It’s a nice feeling.
However nice the feeling is, it doesn’t come without consequences. Being near Teddy is suffocating, but not for the reasons one might think. Cristina is caught up with the way the sun glints off Teddy’s hair, and the warmth of her smile, the gentleness of her touch. The kindness reflected in her eyes and the good glowing in her heart. Cristina sees all of it, and she longs to be a part of it. She feels almost as if she’s a planet orbiting Teddy, caught up in the gravitational pull of the sun.
Cristina wonders if Teddy knows about the effect she has on her. When Teddy smiles, Cristina’s throat closes, her breathing falters, and heart rate spikes. A hummingbird with a wingspan the size of her chest springs to life. Seeing Teddy is a strange sort of experience. Her brain stops for a second, and she’s sure the earth has stopped spinning. Even for a moment, for one miniscule second. For an instant, the only thing in motion is Teddy, the only thing in the color, the only bright spot in a rainy world.
One patch of sunshine in rainy, grim Seattle.
Cristina thinks about Teddy a lot when she shouldn’t. At first, she would practice scalpel work in the shower, picturing the solid, clean movements Teddy made, her wrist twisting with ease in Cristina’s mind. It evolved from there. Spiraled and seeped into her morning routine. After her shower, she would brush her teeth and she’d stare at her reflection and think of the depths of Teddy’s eyes, the curl of her lips, the jut of her clavicle. She’d think about the colors that Teddy would look good in. Navy blue, obviously, but a dark purple looked nice against her skin. Green to match her eyes, blonde hair drifting lazily against forest green. Those thoughts evolved into thoughts of Teddy and nature, her head tilting back beneath the dappled light filtering through a leafy green canopy. Earth steady beneath her feet, nature buzzing all around her.
Cristina bets Teddy would like camping. She wonders when she started betting on what Teddy would like.
She thinks of taking Teddy to the beach, watching her in the ocean, the brilliant blue and the shine of her smile and the glow of the sun on her skin, her hair. It would be beautiful. It would be perfect.
Cristina spits out her toothpaste and rinses her mouth and then the toothbrush before leaving the bathroom. She feels guilty seeing Owen, his easy expressions and his inability to see inside her head and read her thoughts. She wonders if Owen would be mad if she told him how much she thought about Teddy, and she wonders if he would think she was just being friendly.
At night, Owen climbs into bed with her when he can, falling asleep almost instantly. His large palm against her hip, her back, any place he can claim. The wide span of his fingers and the way he brushes against her spine at some point, steady and inevitable. Cristina can smell his cologne, and she thinks about how the pillows smelled like Teddy’s shampoo the morning after the bar.
She misses it. She hates that she misses it, but more than that she hates Owen’s lukewarm touch on her skin. Before Teddy’s touch and her shampoo on Cristina’s sheets, she had been okay with settling for an inbetween. Burke’s touch was cold, his fingers like ice. He was impersonal to most, but Cristina learned the ins and outs of him. She learned it all, and she learned it in his apartment with the cold sheets at night and the air conditioning running. Now that she’s felt the full force of Teddy’s touch and the burn that accompanies it, she can’t return to an inbetween state. Teddy and Burke’s touch was this or that, but Owen’s was a mixture of both. This and that, and Cristina can’t do anything if it's not in extremes. She can’t do a dialed down version of something else. She won’t.
If Cristina wants to be great, she needs to have excellence in all aspects of her life. A lukewarm touch can’t do that for it. It won’t.
She breaks up with Owen. She’d rather be alone than settling for someone who can’t give her what she needs. If he can’t inspire anything more than mild feelings, then she’s not obligated to swallow back her feelings. She has to be honest, for his sake and for hers.
He finds an apartment relatively quickly. They don’t tell anyone. It’s not really a mutually agreed decision so much as one that they both happen to do without telling each other. They do agree to stop talking for awhile. The wounds are too fresh for Owen, and Cristina isn’t sure how to tell him that she thinks about Teddy’s shampoo on her sheets and she misses it.
She doesn’t know how to admit that she misses it either, but she’s getting closer to it. She can feel the words burning in the back of her throat, aching and itching to be said.
Cristina spends a long time wondering what the words are, what they could mean. How she could say them, how she could wrap her lips around them and reveal them.
While she ponders that, she thinks about Teddy. Her hands, her kindness, her bravery. Teddy leaks warmth into every room she wanders into, her voice bright and her laughter loud and free. Teddy loves easily. Part of Cristina wonders if she puts a piece of her heart into every relationship, every person she encounters. She certainly puts some of her heart into her patients. She fights for them as much as she can for as long as she can. Teddy sees the flaws in the system, and she wants to fix them, wants to correct them and change them so the system is better. So it’s less broken. Maybe it’ll never be perfect, but Teddy wants to try.
That’s what Cristina likes best about her. She’s so unafraid to throw herself into everything she does. Unafraid to submerge herself in her work, her patients. She treats every surgery as if it’s special, even when it’s routine. Teddy is fearless in the operating room, calm and self assured even when everything is going wrong. Her spine is steel, her strength innate. It’s what Cristina loves about her.
Loves.
Cristina loves something about Teddy.
In one moment, it’s like the whole world is crashing down around her, the earth halting without the help of Teddy’s presence. Cristina wonders when she fell in love with Teddy, when she started to feel this way.
She wonders if Teddy feels the same way. If they could have a chance to be something great.
Now that she knows she’s in love with Teddy, she’s in constant pain. She’s hyper aware of Teddy’s presence, her proximity and the way she moves, hair swishing and bouncing behind her.
Cristina notices her array of smiles. Her cool, polite ones to patients who look at her and sneer, trapped in a delusion of their own self importance. Her friendly ones, directed towards her acquaintances. Her calming smile, her gentle one when patients get nervous and ask a million inane questions. She even has a laughing smile, her head tilted back and her mouth falling open as pearls of laughter ring out, clear as bells.
Cristina’s favorite smile is one directed at her, and her alone. It isn’t her teaching smile, that one is pleased and quiet. Sometimes when Teddy smiles at Cristina, her grin is warm enough to rival the heat of a furnace. A burning sort of pride, a joyous sort of affection spinning out like a ballerina. It’s all Cristina can do to avoid melting underneath the exposure.
Loving Teddy is like holding the sun in her hands, savoring the heat leaking out through her fingers, scalding and searing against her palms. Cristina lets the light pour into her and out of her in equal measure. It’s like she can see it rushing through her veins, gleaming beneath the skin.
If Teddy is the sun, then Cristina is a vessel for her, light and warmth pouring over her and through her.
Cristina thinks about telling her, but then Teddy will lean closer, a smirk curling at the edge of her mouth. Her eyes will glint playfully or she’ll tell a joke.
Once, Cristina thought she might die mid surgery when Teddy moved behind her, setting her eyes carefully over the younger girl’s shoulder and watching her movements, her hands and how she was doing her sutures. Cristima’s lungs stop working, the air escaping or getting trapped she can’t tell which. Cristina’s body goes still, the only thing capable of functioning are her hands which continue to suture without pausing. There’s no sign of hesitation, a fact Cristina’s eternally grateful for.
Teddy leans in close, the hairs on the back of Cristina’s neck prickling. She can feel the weight of Teddy’s head over her shoulder, a phantom sensation. If Teddy leaned down, her chin would be resting on Cristina’s shoulder. She doubts it’s possible, but Teddy moves closer, adjusting the angle of her head so she has better visualization. Cristina can barely feel Teddy’s body pressed against hers, back to front. It feels agonizing. It feels exhilarating.
“Very nice, Dr. Yang.” Teddy complimented her, breezing away as if she hadn’t taken a piece of Cristina’s heart with her. The stillness is broken, and Cristina can breathe again.
“Thank you, Dr. Altman.” Cristina replies, finishing up with her last suture. Her heart beats rapidly in her chest before slowly steadying, a hummingbird at rest.
It feels like she’s run a marathon, like she’s been put to the test and she barely passed. She scrubs out when the surgery is finished, pulling her mask off and washing her hands and breathing in as best as she can. She feels as if the whole world has been tipped off its axis, her perception skewered and flipped upside down.
She has to tell Teddy. It feels wrong not to, like she’s keeping a secret too horrible and it’s weighing heavily on her soul. If Teddy doesn’t feel the same way, well, Cristina will deal with it. She’s good at dealing with it. Meredith, as much as Cristina loves her, hides behind a shield of denial for as long as she can. She doesn’t like facing the truth, doesn’t like seeing every part of her reflected in a way that’s easy to see, easy to read. Meredith is an open book pretending she’s got secrets, that her soul isn’t laid bare and there’s no haunted look in her eyes.
Meredith can’t hide anything, much like Lexie and Izzie and George. Her issues are as apparent as they are numerous.
Cristina and Alex, they’re better at hiding things. They have personas to hide behind, cold and mean and sharp. Ambitious as all hell and cruel enough to do what they need to without guilt. Most people don’t bother to look behind that.
Cristina thinks Teddy would, and that’s why she has to tell her. To give her the opportunity.
“I need to talk to you.” Cristina says when Teddy follows her out, smile fading into concern.
“Are you okay?” She asks, all flushed cheeks and shiny green eyes.
God, Cristina loves her so much. She just wants to wrap her up and hold her, wants to learn everything she can from Teddy. She wants to learn how to be a great surgeon and she wants to learn what Teddy’s voice sounds like, sleep soft and groggy. She wants to see what Teddy looks like with light pouring over her, slipping through the blinds.
Cristina wants to learn everything about Teddy, and in turn she wants Teddy to want to learn everything about her too. She wants it so bad it’s almost a physical pain, a toothache, a soft spot. Her Achilles heel, her one weak spot. The last tender place she has.
She wants Teddy to see her vulnerabilities, and she wants Teddy to soothe them, to see them and love them with a kindness only she has. A sweetness only she’s capable of.
“Yeah,” Cristina clears her throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.” Teddy says, staring at her. Cristina doesn’t look up, doesn’t want to see the look in her eyes. She can feel Teddy’s eyes on her, knows that she’s waiting expectantly, but Cristina doesn’t want to do it here.
She takes Teddy by the wrist, marching her to an empty on call room. She takes a quick glance around to ensure nobody is watching before she leads Teddy inside, shutting the door behind them and sucking in a sharp breath.
Teddy laughs, breaking the silence. It’s awkward, tense, and the sound is a little too high pitched for Teddy’s natural laugh. “Cristina, what’s going on? I’m a little worried.” Teddy’s face crinkles, her eyebrows pinching together with concern until they relax. Her shoulders are tense, but her posture feigns at casual. She’s faking her ease, her discomfort gliding off her skin like water.
“The first person I ever slept with was one of my college TAs. He wasn’t very attractive, but god he was smart. Incredibly smart, in fact. I felt like I could learn from him, almost like osmosis. It was this idea that by being in his proximity I’d learn everything I could. As if knowledge is spread by distance, rather than discussion, than information.” Cristina explains, meeting Teddy’s eyes steadily.
A sea of green, an anchor in a storm. Teddy, her very own pillar of strength, of guidance. A lighthouse, sturdy in a storm, its light sweeping out over roaring waters. Over cold waves and unforgiving waters. A safety net, a guiding light. Cristina wants to wrap herself in Teddy like she’s a warm shawl, something gentle and comforting when the world is too hard, too cold, too intent on pulling her down so far that she can’t see the sun anymore.
“Cristina,” Teddy interrupts, her words annoyed, but her tone fond. “As fascinating as your life story is, I still don’t understand why we’re here.”
“We’ll get there. I promise.” Cristina stresses, Teddy shifting on her feet before rolling her shoulders back and nodding.
“Okay. Okay, keep going.” Teddy dips her head slightly, hair falling against her cheek.
Cristina wants to tuck it behind her ear, wants to cup her cheek and feel Teddy’s skin against hers. Not yet. Not yet, but soon. Hopefully. “It didn’t work out for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t supposed to. It wasn’t a love story or anything remotely close to that. My love story came after. After college, after med school. I met Dr. Preston Burke during my intern year. He was the first cardio god I ever had, and I loved him so much.”
Something pained flashes in Teddy’s eyes, frown lines appearing on her face as she reflexively displays her displeasure. Cristina pushes on, eager to make her understand. “He taught me so much, about my dreams and about my field. I loved surgery before I stepped foot inside the O.R., but he helped me connect to it. He shaped me. As a doctor, and as a person. He was the first man I ever truly loved.”
“But?” Teddy prompts.
“But,” Cristina smiles because Teddy gets it, she can understand the ends of her stories without needing them spelled out. She can put the puzzle pieces together to create a whole picture and she doesn’t even need to look at the box. “He left me at the altar. If he hadn’t, I would have married him that day. I don’t think I would have been happy in the long run, but I would have done it. I could have been Mrs. Preston Burke, but my heart has been in the O.R. for an eternity. He saw that. He understood it, but he couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t choose me when he knew my heart would be split in a way his wasn’t. Burke,” Cristina pauses, searching for the words. “Burke always devoted himself to something. First it was surgery, then it was me. He was always looking to dedicate himself to something. I had already found it.”
Teddy reaches out for Cristina, fingers grazing before Cristina pulls away, her heart electrified at a simple touch.
“Then I met Owen. Owen was different. He challenged me in a way I had never been before. He was exciting, and experienced, and his field of expertise was entirely different than anyone else’s. He was clever, and witty, and he thought on his feet. He was a fixer, and I loved that about him. There’s a lot to love about Owen,” Cristina rambles on, her stomach twisting itself into knots. God, this was supposed to be easy. Or at least less complicated.
“Oh. Oh!” Teddy exclaims softly, hushed and gentle. Tears fill her eyes rapidly, her eyes shiny and glistening in the light. “You and Owen are getting married. Wow, uh, congratulations!” Teddy’s hands are shaking, and there’s a lump in her throat the size of the moon. Her breathing is weak, her pulse fluttering wildly.
When Cristina speaks next, Teddy’s relief is palpable, thick in the air around them. It hangs like a veil, the unsaid and the unspoken. Luckily, Cristina left her veil behind at the metaphorical altar.
“No, no! What? Teddy, we broke up. A couple of days ago. I broke up with him.” She explains, running a hand through her hair.
“You broke up.” Teddy says, voice sliding into a blank sort of tone, her eyes flicking left and right as she processes the abundance of information she’s been told.
“Yes, now shut up and listen. I’m almost done.” Cristina admonishes her, watching as one corner of Teddy’s mouth lifts up.
At Teddy’s nod, she continues. “There’s a lot to love about Owen, but he doesn’t understand me. He tries, but he always falls short. He knows that I love surgery, but he doesn’t understand that it’s as much a part of me as my own limbs. If I couldn’t cut, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d be lost. Owen may love me, but he doesn’t understand me. I deserve to be with someone who understands me completely, who wants to understand me completely.”
“Who?” Teddy asks, and there’s glint in her eyes, like she’s hopeful but sick because of it. Like she’s waiting for heartbreak to happen.
Cristina takes a deep breath, grounding herself. “You.” She says simply, watching Teddy and waiting for her reaction.
Teddy’s eyes are wet, something sharp and sad in them, like a wounded animal. “Stop.” Her voice rings out in the quiet room, and Cristina’s heart stops in her chest. Every part of Cristina is silently, viscerally still. “This isn’t funny.”
“I’m not joking.” Cristina says firmly, head swimming. “I love you, Teddy. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I understand completely, but I had to tell you. Without you, it’s like… it’s like I’m waiting. Like I’m stuck wishing for something more, something better, but you are my something better. Teddy, you are amazing. You’re stunning and smart and kind. Everybody pales in comparison to you.”
“How did you know?” Teddy manages to choke out, jaw working and throat bobbing.
“After the bar. You slept over, and I remember waking up the next morning. I could smell your shampoo on the pillowcase, on the sheets for days after. I missed you so much, your presence and your warmth. It was eye opening, to say the least.”
They laugh together, something easing in the room like a collective weight has been lifted. “Teddy, I want you to teach me. I want to learn everything from you. Not just surgical things. I want to learn how you take your coffee and what you eat for breakfast and where you buy your shampoo. I want to learn what movie you love to hate and what movie you hate to love. I want to know if you hide your face during horror movies or if you laugh at the cheesy, terrible, over-the-top acting. I want to learn everything about you, and I want you to want me to. Teddy, I love you. I’m in love with you. I just want the chance to be with you, if you’ll have me.” Cristina confesses, tears springing to her eyes.
Teddy stares at her for a long time, eyes boring into Cristina’s. They stand for a long time before Teddy moves, taking two quick steps forward to take Cristina in her arms.
Teddy pulls Cristina into a searing kiss, palms against her cheeks and fingers stretching out against her skin. Cristina inhales sharply at the feel of Teddy’s mouth on hers, warmth and pressure and slightly chapped lips. Cristina’s hands fall to the blonde’s hips, holding on tightly.
If loving Teddy is like holding the sun in her hands, kissing Teddy is like being consumed by it. Heat burns beneath the skin like a furnace, electricity sparks up her spine and shockwaves dance over her skin. Her blood is lava, and her bones forged from fire. Muscle and bone and blood burning away into steam, into smoke drifting away.
Teddy tastes like strawberry chapstick and mint gum and some sort of fruit. Maybe raspberry or cherry. Blackberry possibly. Teddy melts against her, and Cristina does the same. Hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Cristina can smell Teddy’s shampoo, the scent hanging heavily in the air. It makes her dizzy, it makes her heart light up.
Cristina clings to Teddy, her spine molten and her legs liquid. Cristina kisses Teddy like her lip depends on it, half grinning against her lips, fully kissing her back. Teddy is the one who pulls away, resting her forehead against Cristina’s. Her eyes are shut, but when they open there’s a giddiness that’s mirrored in Cristina’s heart.
God, the one thing Cristina knows is that she can’t go back to Owen and his lukewarm touch, barely sparking interest despite his best efforts.
Teddy pulls away, one hand falling down to grasp Cristina’s, and the other one cupping Cristina’s face, tenderly stroking her face. Cristina leans into the touch, her heart glowing in her chest.
“You are amazing.” Teddy whispers, awe filling her voice and overwhelming it.
“Yeah?” Cristina hates the vulnerability in her voice, loathes it, but Teddy looks at her like she’s hung the stars.
“Yeah.” She confirms. “I love you too.”
Cristina reaches up, a tear spilling down her face. She tucks a strand of hair behind Teddy’s ear, lingers because she can. “How did you know?” She mimics Teddy from earlier.
Teddy shakes her head. “I always loved you, Cristina. “I knew you were special from the first moment I met you.”
“I hated you!” Cristina points out.
“Gee, did you? I can’t believe I missed that.” Teddy bites out sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
Cristina scowls at her, but Teddy leans down, brushing a kiss against her lips.
“I loved you because you were brash and sharp and indifferent, but when you cared? When you actually made the connection you would have done anything to help a patient. Absolutely anything. You could’ve convinced me to go to the ends of the earth for a patient that I was confident in my diagnosis, but I would’ve done it anyways. Cristina, you are nothing like anything I’ve ever seen before.” Teddy stares meaningfully into Cristina’s eyes, her voice warm and loving, drenched in fondness and easy affection.
“You have magic in your hands, Cristina. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before because you put it there yourself. You made magic out of dedication and devotion and hard work. Discipline and strength and ambition. You do outlandish things, and you do them successfully. I love that about you. You are fiercely competent, and I have never felt more honored to teach you.” Teddy kisses her again, warmth surging through the both of them like an adrenaline rush. When Teddy pulls away, her face is flushed and her eyes are bright with unrestrained joy and Cristina loves her so much it’s an ache in her bones, a need and a desire and a want all rolled into one.
“Loving you is like loving the sun.” Cristina blurts out, sheepishly glancing away. “It feels inevitable. It feels like an already drawn conclusion. The answer to an equation written on the page. I feel warm just by being near you. I feel like the whole world could freeze over and I’d be fine. I’d be better than fine, even. I’d probably die of heat stroke, actually. It would be worth it. If I was with you for one second, it would be the best second of my life. I mean that. That’s how you make me feel. It’s like I’m so appreciative of having every moment with you that I have had the fortune of experiencing. I love you, and I want to be with you. Always.”
Teddy takes it in, her mind working to accurately piece together the emotions she feels when she looks at Cristina, when she thinks of Cristina loving her back. After everything, after bitten off confessions and the desire to take her into her arms, it’s them. Something inside of Teddy says it’s always going to be them.
“Loving you is like loving the ocean.” Teddy finally answers after a contemplative silence. “There’s so much ocean unexplored. It’s vast. It’s almost infinite. I love you so much it would surpass the amount of ocean in the world. You’re sort of a mystery, but you’re not. I can figure you out, Cristina Yang, and I will. Before that, though, I’ll puzzle through the surface bits to what’s beneath. I’m going to know you, Cristina, because I want to and because you want me to. You’re a constant in my life, present even if I don’t think about it. I’m drawn to you. It’s like I’m being swept in by the tide every time you’re near. I don’t understand the magnetic pull you have on me or the gravitational force you must be exerting, but I don’t think I could do without it. I don’t know where I’d be without you, Cristina. You helped me develop roots here. Without you, I’d be as flakey as the wind. I’m glad I’m here. I’m so glad I met you, Cristina.” Teddy’s voice is soft, mushy like a paper bag left overnight in the rain. Cristina appreciates it more than she’d ever say.
Cristina reaches out, holding onto Teddy. She tucks her face into the older woman’s neck, hugging her tightly. Teddy holds onto her, eyes closed as she presses a close mouthed kiss to the center of her head. “It’s you, Cristina. It was always you. Only ever you.” Cristina inhales deeply before exhaling, her breath ghosting against Teddy’s neck.
Teddy’s arms feel right around her. Solid and comforting. She feels safe and warm and held. Like the world could end and she’d be okay as long as Teddy’s arms are around her. Teddy’s arms encircle her mid back, hugging her tight enough that their bodies press together, but loose enough that she can breathe easily. Teddy’s hands rest on either side of Cristina’s side, palm against her rib cage and fingers spanning the length of her side and brushing against her stomach.
It’s a lot like having a security blanket. She can’t carry Teddy around with her always, but she’ll be there when Cristina needs her. It’s a comforting thought, and it makes Cristina’s heart pound in a nice way, a sort of anticipatory glee.
There’s no going back now. Luckily, neither of them want to. They’re ready to step towards the future, to walk forward hand in hand. Past uncertainty, past doubt into unconditional love and support.
They’re ready to leave the last behind. To step away from their respective histories and make a new one together.
A new past, a new history. A new future, a new life. A new love.
A lasting love.
It’s enough. It’ll always be enough when it comes to them.