This is a little one off i wrote for one of my very good twitter friends iam_twistedJO :) she came up with the idea and I decided to have a go at writing it :)

I hope you all enjoy a little shower fun with the Hunts :)

Merry Christmas and Happy New year

Mel thanks for making my jibber jabber make sense :) xxx

"Owen, Owen," Cristina yelled as she ran up the fire house stairs looking for her husband, mobile phone in one hand.

She had just, this minute, hung up from speaking with her mother, it was urgent. "Owen," she called again, the irritation in her voice growing.

He appeared from their bedroom. "I'm right here, what's with the yelling?" he asked as he leaned forward to kiss her in greeting.

"My mother is coming here tonight, we have to have dinner with her," she sighed breathlessly, bent over a bit at the waist as she rattled on, "so you need to wear a suit and you need to shave, okay? And now I'm late." Giving him a quick peck on the cheek she turned to go back down to the car.

She had been about to enter her car when her mother had rung. Having paused, one foot on the pavement the other on the floor panel of her car, she'd listened to her mother. To her horror, she'd learned that her mother was indeed visiting that very day. Then she'd found herself nearly sprinting back into their building in her haste to warn Owen.

Cristina stopped and turned again to look at him. "Oh and erm," she chewed on her bottom lip, "I may not have mentioned that we're married. Well, see you later and don't forget to shave," she waved airily and quit the scene, running down the stairs before what she said could really sink in.

Owen was confused. Did she really just say what he thought she had just said? He hurried after her. "Cristina Yang, you get your backside back here," he said yelling after her.

He caught up with her on the curb as she was about to pull away. Swearing, Cristina sighed, "Look, I know you may be a little angry," she said knowing that he was, "but you don't know my mother she's crazy she meddles and nags and she says things usually to embarrass me and she calls me unpleasant. Look, I am late can we talk about this later, please?"

His shoulders sagged a bit as he sighed, though he didn't really have a choice in the matter it didn't make him feel any more okay about it either. "Fine but we are having this conversation tonight and I am not shaving, I have a beard, if your mother doesn't like it well then it's just too bad."

Later that evening Cristina walked slowly up the stairs, knowing she was in for it. "Hi," she called out; there he sat on the sofa with his laptop out.

"Hello," he said, "Nice day?"

"Yes," she sat on the sofa leaning against him, "I should have told my mother we were married but the truth is I just never think to ring her, when I do I get endless lectures I work too much, Blah blah blah. She isn't like your mom, you know, she doesn't talk to me she talks at me. And had I invited her to our wedding we would have been standing in a freezing cold church with me wearing a stupid white puffy dress and you in penguin suit, so I sent her on a cruise for two weeks. So, technically when I told you she was away and couldn't make it, I wasn't actually lying. Oh erm, I love you."

She smiled at him, he smiled back. "Cristina, you are a bad girl and you need a good spanking you know that?"

She laughed. "Am I forgiven?"

"Sure, you're maybe right, our wedding was perfect but I'm not shaving. What does she have against my beard?" he asked.

"She thinks it's scruffy, you know I've never seen you without your beard," she said whilst running her fingers through his hair. "It might be hot; I tell you what, if you shave I will let you wash my hair, deal?"

He kissed her. "Only if you shave me," he said smirking.

"What? No way, I might cut your delicate complexion," she whined, not liking the idea of messing up her husband's face. "Oh okay, fine, deal; we are a pretty pervy couple aren't we?"

In the shower later that evening Owen stood massaging shampoo into his wife's scalp. "Hmm," Cristina moaned, "You are too good at that, maybe you should stop being a surgeon and become a hairdresser."

She leaned against him, naked and soapy, as he gently ran his fingers through her hair whilst rinsing out the soap. "I think I only like washing your hair, I would look pretty silly in an apron and no one at work needs to know about this, by the way when I say that I mean Mark Sloan."

"No," she murmured when he had finished. "Don't stop, you have magic fingers, keep massaging."

He pulled her around to face him and kissed her, enjoying the feel of her against him and the warm water beating down over their joined bodies.

"Okay," Cristina said, picking up his shaving foam after they'd gotten out. "You have been warned; you could end up looking like a victim or Edward Scissor Hands."

"Just do it already, stop moaning, woman."

"Okay." She started to slaver the foam over his beard until it was white and none of his ginger hair was visible. "How long have you had a beard anyway? I thought it was a no-no in the army," she queried curiously.

"It was and so every day we shaved. Sand and razors make a bad combination, so as soon as I got out I decided to keep the beard. I like it, I thought you liked it?" he asked quizzically.

"I do like it," she said, as she brought the razor up to his face. "I love it, it feels so good on my skin, and other areas, it leaves marks all over my skin," she sighed distractedly, gently pulling the razor across his cheek and leaving smooth skin behind.

She did half his face and leaned back to check out her work, turning his face to get a better view. His skin was red but smooth; she rinsed off the razor and kissed the skin she left behind before she pulled the razor across the other side.

Owen loved that when she concentrated on anything she got slightly crossed eyed with her tongue sticking out a little which to him was very cute.

Cristina stood back scrutinizing over her handy work when she was done. He was now clean shaven, his face was red and he had a tiny cut where she had nicked him but, all in all, not a bad job she thought.

Owen noticed Cristina's facial expression had changed. Was it him or did she look a little worried?

"Oh my, oh dear... uh, oops," she said, trying to keep her voice straight though it was hard, the look on his face was priceless.

"What?" he asked looking rather worried now. "You didn't mess me up too bad did you? Please tell me I don't look like Splinter."

He leaped out of the shower so fast he tripped over the bath mat. He grabbed the sink to steady himself and looked in the mirror, sighing with relief when he saw his now smooth but slightly red face peering back at him. He could also see and hear his wife doubled over in a fit of giggles behind him.

Owen turned around, laughing as he swatted her gently on the arm. "You are mean; a mean, mean woman, Mrs Hunt." He pulled her close and she quickly recovered from her laughing fit. "You did good," he said, sweeping his lips over hers. "Really good."

The End