Latkes and Kim Chee

“Okay, so can you explain to me why we are missing the two for one drink party at Joe’s tonight?” Owen asked Cristina, slipping his hands into his pockets due to the cold.  He didn’t worry about not holding hands while walking.  They weren’t that couple, and he knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t that girl.  Neither of them were into the showy part of romance, which was something Owen found absolutely refreshing about his relationship with Cristina.  She wasn’t a needy lapdog who constantly needed to be reassured of their status with one another. 

“Well, I am letting you into a little family tradition I have for a holidays.” Cristina responded, smiling and showing him two plastic take-out bags from the deli down the street. 

“It was a Yang family tradition to have deli food for Christmas?” he asked, furrowing his brows.  Cristina turned to him and arched an eyebrow.

“No,” she replied evenly, “It was a Yang-Blitstein family tradition to have Latkes on Hanukkah.”

Owen stopped in his tracks, feeling a bit embarrassed.   He knew that Cristina’s father had died in front of her when she was a child, and that her mother remarried.  However, he never had taken the now admittedly small leap in logic to realize that…

“You’re Jewish?” he asked, his tone as sheepish as he felt.

“Well, did you think Callie put up the Menorah in the apartment?” she responded, and he heard the jangling of her keys as she reached into her pocket to get them.  One of the great things about Cristina’s apartment was its proximity to the hospital.  Sometimes if he was exhausted, either Callie or Cristina would let him use their key and he crashed there rather than try to drive home.  Still, he had to admit, he didn’t question the Menorah there.  In reality, he had hardly noticed it next to the large Christmas tree which now that he thought about it, he had only seen Callie decorate.

As they made their way up to the apartment, Cristina handed him the bags so she could unlock the door.  The darkness let him know Callie was on call that night, as did the mess on the floor.  Walking gingerly, so as not to accidentally slip and fall over some stray object Cristina may have thrown carelessly on the floor, he turned on the light switch.  Cristina took the bags, set them on the dining table, and walked into the kitchen.  She returned holding a jar of what looked to be a pickled cabbage, and while the lettering on the jar let him know it was Korean he had no clue as to what it was.

“Kim Chee” Cristina announced, placing the jar on the table.

“Okay, so for Hanukkah you eat Latkes and Kim Chee?”

“Would it have killed her to stay home with the girl today?”

Cristina had just woken up, and she heard the voice of her step grandfather booming from the downstairs.  She yawned and rubbed her eyes, looking at the My Little Pony Calendar her mother insisted on hanging in her room.  There it was.  December 8^th.  A year to the day her father died.

“Abe, it is none of your business.” She heard her step grandmother Irene reply, and there was some clanking in the kitchen.

“So, Cris has been in this family for five years, and we babysit her every time that woman and your son decide they have something better to do.  If that doesn’t make it my business I don’t know what does.”  He responded, and Cristina heard his hand thump down on the table.

“Shh…you’ll wake her!”  Irene admonished, and then Cristina heard a sizzling noise coming from the kitchen.  Soon, she smelled the aroma of onions and potatoes frying and began to rise out of bed.  While she did not call them Grandma and Grandpa, she did like Abe and Irene Blitstein very much.  She knew that they tried very hard to be close to her, taking more of an interest in her likes and dislikes than her own mother at points, but there was still something there that made it hard for Cristina to get close to them.  Still, they never did stop trying.

“It’s almost noon, Irene.  Do you think she’s not up?  She’s probably moping in bed, and I can’t say that I blame her.  It’s the anniversary of her father’s death and her mother’s meschugana!”

Soon, Cristina heard the footfalls of her grandfather coming up the steps, and then heard a soft knocking at her door.  She climbed out of bed and walked to open the door for him, and was greeted with a sweet, sincere smile.  In spite of herself, Cristina smiled back at him.  It didn’t hurt that she saw a large box, wrapped in bright blue and white paper, behind his back.

“So, would someone like to come downstairs and open her Hanukkah present?” Abe asked, chuckling when the little girl shook her head somberly yes.  Normally he would just blame it on the day being what it was, but he knew that Cristina was normally a serious child.  Her mother almost tried to make her act frivolously, pushing an interest on clothes and boys (way too young for that, in Abe’s opinion) on the girl when she was really interested in science and books.  When they had babysat Cristina last weekend, trying to find something that would be fun for her to do, Irene had shown her how her own mother had made soap when she was a child.  To her delight, Cristina loved the activity, happily mixing her own scents and asking why things were being added as they were.  It was this that made Irene and Abe pick out her gifts as they did.

Cristina walked downstairs, and opened the large package.

“Can you guess what it is?” Abe asked, smiling at the intense way Cristina was trying to undo the curling ribbon Irene had tied around the gift.

“Operation!” Cristina squealed with delight, giving a big smile.

“See, I remembered when you said you want to be a big shot surgeon.  I figured you should start your practice now.”  Abe said. “But there’s more.  We won’t be with you tomorrow night, so we figured we’d let you open this one too.”

Irene took a break from frying to hand Cristina another package which they had decided to take at the last minute and was not as ornately wrapped.  Cristina was actually happy that there was less to tear off, and sat there stunned when she realized what was in front of her.

“It’s a real science kit.” She said softly, looking at the package in amazement.  “It has a microscope, and slide, and a real frog in formaldehyde.” Quickly she opened the box and pulled out the jar holding the frog from the Styrofoam container.

“Now, you can either dissect that or put it on your mother’s pillow.” Abe said, getting a small chuckle out of Cristina.  Yet, there was still some sadness in her eyes, and he knew why.  Abe had liked Bae Yang.  He had met Cristina’s father when he had come to pick her up on the weekends.  Since his son and daughter-in-law always seemed to have something to do on Saturdays, often he and Irene were in charge of handing Cristina to her father.  One thing Abe noticed, Bae was the only person Cristina ever voluntarily hugged. 

As if sensing Abe’s thoughts, Cristina’s chin began to crumple as her eyes welled up with tears.  She was about to walk away when Abe grabbed her hand and held it.

“I know, Cristina, I know.” He said softly, and he did know.  She was still too young to hear about the camps, and how Abe had watched his father be led away, but she could tell from his eyes that he did know.

“I brought this over, Cristina, in honor of your father.”  Abe produced from his pocket a small white votive in a glass jar.

Cristina looked at him quizzically.  “What is it?” she asked, picking it up and examining it.  On the glass there were some strange symbols that she would later come to know as Hebrew.

“It’s called a Yahrzeit candle.  It’s a Jewish tradition to light it and pray for someone on the anniversary of their death.  Normally we do it the night before, but I figured you may want to join me.” Abe said gently, taking a matchbook out of his pocket.  Cristina looked at her step grandfather in complete surprise.

“You…you were going to do this for my dad?” she asked slowly.

“Yes, Cristina.  I liked your father, and I knew what today was for you.” Abe responded, and he was about to strike the match when Cristina ran up to him and hugged him.

“Thank you Grandpa.” Cristina said, looking up at him.  Abe smiled, and after he disentangled himself from Cristina’s embrace he lit the candle and recited the prayer.  Afterwards, Irene came and picked up the candle to place it in a tin pan on the stove.  She then placed a plate of hot latkes in front of them.

Irene fumbled through the refrigerator, grabbing the sour cream and apple sauce.  She then noticed something unfamiliar in the refrigerator, and pulled it out.

“Cristina darling, what is this?” she asked, holding up the unfamiliar jar.

“It’s Kim Chee.  It used to eat it with my dad all the time.” She said, taking the jar from Irene and opening it to put on the table. “Can we eat it with the latkes?” she asked, hopeful.

“Sure,” Abe responded, taking a latke, putting on some sour cream, and then adding some Kim Chee.  He took one bite, made a slight face, and then smiled. 

“And that is why every year I eat this on the first night of Hanukkah.” Cristina finished, looking at Owen to see his reaction.

“Your Grandpa Abe sounds like quite a man.” Owen said, nodding thoughtfully as he grabbed another latke and dipped it into the applesauce on his plate.

“He was a really good man, so now, instead of just eating the Kim Chee in honor of my dad I also eat the latkes for him.” Cristina paused, took a breath, “So, that was me letting you in a bit.”

“Is that it for the year now?” Owen asked, chuckling.

“Actually, yes.”

Owen’s chuckle turned to full blown laughter, as did Cristina’s.  She reached across the table and grabbed his hand.

“I wanted you to know this about me, because its special to me.  This whole thing.  It’s one of the few traditions I have that I hold on to.  And I wanted you to know.  Because you are…special to me too.” She said this quickly, almost timidly, and Owen gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re special to me too.” He replied, still holding her hand as he got up from his place and walked to her side of the table.  Slowly, she rose to meet him, and he gently touched her lips with his.

“So, do you still want to go to Joe’s?” she asked, his mouth but millimeters from hers.

“Hell no” he replied, pulling her in for a deeper kiss.  “I think we’ll have a much better time here.”

Finally!  Something that I want to happen!

FELIZ CUMPLEANOS A TI!

FELICIDADES DE MI!

FELIZ CUMPLEANOS A TI!

FELIZ CUMPLEANOS A TI!

If someone can tell me how to get foreign characters on this thing please let me know!

"Time" - Chapter Five - Good Intentions

Rating: PG-13

Characters: Pairings: Callie/OC, Mark/Cristina, Cristina/Mark/Callie friendship

Description: Callie discovers something new about her friends, and a pool pump is something people should not be denied too often.

Clique aqui!

Okay ladies and gents, here's my first attempt at fanfiction for Grey's.  This is basically going to be Callie's thoughts following her and George's break-up.

Chapter (1/ ??) - "Human On The Inside"

Author: Gibraltariana
Pairings: Callie/George, Mark/Callie friendship and maybe more, George/Izzie mentioned.
Ratings: NC-17 eventually, but this chapter is a pretty innocent G
Disclaimer: If I DID own these characters they wouldn't be acting like they are, or I would have to shoot them.

“Human On The Inside”

One Week After George Left Callie

                Part of me used to believe in Karma.  You know, the whole if you do good things then good things happen to you.  The follow-up?  If you do hurtful things you in turn get hurt.  Lately though, I don’t quite believe in that anymore, because if I did then there are a lot of things I would have to accept.  Mainly, that I somehow DESERVED to have the man that I loved and trusted cheat on me with the woman who basically attacked me every chance she got.  Made me feel like a cockroach.  The idea of him with her, happily making love to the blonde stacked supermodel , has kept me awake at night ever since this whole nightmare began.    The fact that they made no attempts to hide their relationship even at our common workplace, sitting together in the cafeteria and basically in my face everywhere I looked, kills me.  He doesn’t have to return my feelings to at least give my feelings some respect, yet even that is too much to expect.  When I lost Chief Resident, he didn’t even come over and see how I was.  He was my world, and he has basically taken a scalpel and cut me out of his.  Sometimes I wonder if I was even there.

                I guess the hardest part of this all is realizing that for once I let my guard down with a man and he turned out to be the worst kind of guy.  The user.  Whenever George needed someone to be there for him, to get him through a crisis, he knew where to find me.  I helped him through the whole thing with Meredith, and then was his rock when his dad died.  I never thought twice about any of it, not even when I walked out of a once-in-a-lifetime surgery to be there for him, because THAT’S how much I loved him.  Then, when he failed his intern exam, I spent every night getting him to the point where he felt he could return to Seattle Grace and repeat his intern year.  I can’t even count how many pep talks I gave him, telling him that he in fact did have talent and the failure of the exam was simply a glitch in his path to becoming a surgeon.  Little did I know that all of my efforts would simply put him back in Izzie Stevens’ path, and lead him to her.  It kills me now to know that all the support I gave him, and the belief in himself that I helped him find would only be to her benefit. 

                Basically, he’s never apologized.  I guess he won’t because HIS life is fine.  He’s back living at Meredith’s, although I am sure he’s now sharing a bedroom with Izzie.  Izzie did give an apology, but it was one of those apologies that a child would give.  You know, please forgive me so I can feel better?  I am not here to make her feel better, and quite honestly since she’s gotten her best friend back with the added benefit of a lover why should I?  Her life is perfectly fine too.  Cristina told me that Izzie said she never meant to hurt me.  The craziest thing is I can believe that, but not in a good way.  For her to truly have meant to hurt my feelings, she would have to realize that I had them and quite honestly I don’t think she does.  This is why I don’t believe in Karma anymore.  Maybe marrying a man right after his father died was NOT my finest hour, but I definitely did not deserve to be skewered and ignored.  If there truly is Karma, then why are George and Izzie fine?  I would love some justice, but I’ve given up on that also.  The only thing that keeps me still at Seattle Grace is that I can’t bear the thought of screwing up my Residency on top of everything else.  So, I have to stick it out a little longer.

Okay, okay, I know.  I've been on this thing for HOW LONG and my journal had nothing on it.  Well, I have a list of New Year's Resolutions and this was top on my list (mainly because I figured I could do this most quickly).  Well, now I can actually try to entertain you all with my sparkling wit and wonderous sense of humor (Heh!).  Anyway, Happy New Year to all!