Song Title: Puff, the Magic Dragon

Episode Title: The One with the End of the World…

Author: shli

Once upon a time, there was a very sexy redheaded trauma surgeon and his equally attractive raven-haired cardio surgeon ladylove. It was a disgustingly hot day – the kind of day where you wished you could return to the days of childhood, tear off all your clothes, and run through sprinklers. But to them, it was any other day – another day of patients in need of cutting, colleagues in need of gossiping, and on-call rooms in need of occupying…among other things. And like any other day for this couple, it began with two extremely satisfied smiles…

"Mmm…you certainly are making up for all that time we were celibate," Cristina said, sprawled atop the covers.

"Well, we have to catch up with the other couples. Even George has had more sex than we have. Izzie has had more ghost sex than we've had of real sex. That's just plain wrong." Owen placed an arm behind his head, showing off the drool-worthy muscles of his arm (and the ginger armpit hair that a few fanatics were gaga over).

Without warning, a hypnotic trance came over him. "I want you naked… in my bed," Owen voiced in a deep, Scottish brogue.

Cristina turned to him. "I am naked in your bed. What's wrong with you? Why are you speaking in a Scottish accent? Hmm… I think I like it." Cristina licked her lips. "No, I love it. Say something else. It's such a turn on."

Owen shook his head, clearing the fog that had settled there. "Sorry, what? What are you talking about?"

"You just told me that you wanted me naked in your bed – in a Scottish accent. Seriously, I'm at like an 8 in the moist panty scale devised by a certain group of fangirls. Come a little closer, and we can make that a 10."

Shrugging off that momentary lapse of sanity, Owen chose to focus on the more important task: making love to Cristina in a manner that would garner millions of replays on YouTube and DVRs or TiVos and pages of careful analysis on the ABC message board's Yang-Hunt Thread.

***

Characteristic lack of a transition scene.

***

"Why is it so hot?" Cristina complained loudly as they finally walked into the hospital for their shift, pulling at the fabric so that it no longer stuck to her skin.

Even Owen, who was used to wearing full army gear during the hottest summers in the Iraqi desert, felt unequipped to handle the heat – though he was a lot less vocal about the discomfort.

Owen's eyes couldn't help but stray towards Cristina's chest – a move that definitely did not help him cool off. Yep, I need a cold, ice cold, shower, Owen thought to himself. Then another voice joined in, And you need to take off your shirt.

Whoa, who is this?

Uh, we are the voice in your head that Ausiello spoke about.

I don't really pay attention to that guy. He likes the blonde psycho that the 5.5 authors rightly killed off.

We don't like him either. But anyways, we're getting off topic. Take off your shirt!

Well, if I take a shower, I'm going to have to take off my shirt.

Right… How's your Armani suit?

Cristina's misery-ridden groan jolted Owen out of his conversation with the unknown voice. "Ugh, I need to take a bath."

Apparently, Cristina had a similar voice in her head. "Good idea. I know just the place."

"Where are we going?"

"Don't worry, you'll like it."

***

"Wow, I really do not know this hospital. When did we get an Ancient Rome-themed bedroom? Wait… You didn't get a headache and suddenly make us time travel, did you?"

"No, I told you. My Journeyman days are long behind me."

"Okay, good." Cristina looked around, admiring the decor.

"It's great, right? Right?"

Cristina giggled. "Yeah."

"It's out of time, out of place. Anything can happen… in a Roman bedroom."

"Like what?"

"Like… a provocative wash scene." Owen pulled off his clothes in record time as Cristina brought over a basin of water and a washcloth.

Just as Owen was about to take the washcloth from her hand and dip it into the water, Cristina interrupted, "Let me."

Looking down at Cristina's ebony curls and bluish-gray shift dress, Owen couldn't help but have a sense of déjà vu. Cristina ran the washcloth up his leg, slowly making her way up to his right buttock (which, for some odd reason, was full of mosquito bites). Unable to resist any longer, Owen drew Cristina to her feet and kissed her, hands gently cupping her neck. Cristina tilted her head to one side, giving his lips an all-access pass to the side of her neck. Owen took the hint.

Things segued into a love scene that could only take place on a network like HBO or in the realms of fanfiction, filled with intertwined limbs, heavy panting, and thrusting that would make any fangirl swoon. However, in this case, a huge black rectangle of censorship covered up all the good stuff, and a line of text that said "holding hands" – courtesy of ABC, leaving the bottom half of their bodies up to the imagination of said fangirls.

***

Meanwhile, another, lesser, Mc was having a similar type of fun himself in an on-call room, his second home.

"Little Grey," he groaned out.

"Seriously? That's what you're going to call me while we're doing it? Ugh, you really are a pedophile," Lexie replied, though she didn't stop her demonstration of number 16 from a certain "how to spice up your sex life" magazine article at an alarmingly rapid pace.

"Shut up, I'm trying to pretend you're someone else." A someone else who had left and gone to Los Angeles to be part of a private practice that had some ridiculous drama of its own – though, none of it rivaling the absurdity of ghost sex.

Without warning, something snapped.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Mark screamed. "You broke it! Again!"

"Oops," Lexie said, climbing off of him.

"Don't just stand there like a mindless idiot. Go get Hunt!"

"Hold on. I'm taking a mental image of this for my photographic memory vault. Okay… got it."

***

Back in the Ancient Roman bedroom, Owen's pager went off.

"Argh, damn pager. It's always interrupting us just when things are about to get good," Cristina lamented just as they were about to go for round two. They were serious about making up for lost opportunities in the sexy time department.

"Hmm…911 page from Callie. I wonder… No, he wouldn't be that stupid to do it again, would he?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, I just need to straighten something out." Owen pecked Cristina on the cheek then donned his scrubs, opting for going commando. Before he left, he held Cristina's gaze for a moment – the sex just emanating from his eyes – and said, "You should take off your clothes more often. It shows off the back of your neck. I like the back of your neck." With one last smoldering look, Owen left.

***

"Yeah, that's a penile fracture," Owen announced with Callie hovering behind him.

"Oh, I'm going to kill myself."

"We should operate, then you can kill yourself."

"Oh god," Mark groaned in pain.

"Can you do it?" Callie asked.

"Well, this one might be a little trickier. Lexie did slightly more damage this time."

"What do you mean?" Mark asked, not really wanting to know the answer. And he didn't get a chance to. He fainted.

What a wuss, Owen thought. Am I the only real man in this hospital?

Yes, you are.

Callie repeated the question.

"Well, when I said we needed to operate, I meant that we'd have to give him a sex change operation. His man parts are going to have to be turned into woman parts."

"Seriously?" Callie cocked an eyebrow in interest. "That would make him a lesbian…right?"

"I guess it would."

"Hmm… This could be a good thing. But then, he wouldn't be my backup penis anymore. Technically, he'd be my backup vagina. And what if I'm not a lesbian? What if I am no longer the sexually confused character who has no other storyline other than being broke and unlucky in love? Would Mark and I work out, though? He's not blonde, so that'd be a new change of pace, me getting with a non-blonde lesbian… I wonder if that's even allowed… "

"Callie."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

***

Take off your shirt. Owen stopped in his tracks. There was that voice again.

Take off your shirt!

I did! I even took off my pants, too.

No, right now. Take off your shirt right now. Just walk around the hospital half-naked.

Owen shrugged then pulled his dark blue scrub top over his head.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Alex asked, seeing his former bromance partner.

"Hey there now, Karev. I'm taking off my shirt."

"Why?"

"Because the voice inside my head told me to."

Alex paused. "Do you see things, too?"

"No," Owen scoffed. "If I did, I would certainly go see a doctor rather than go to town on myself and think I'm having sex with a dead lover."

"So, you don't see Izzie or Denny?"

"No…" Owen replied slowly, wondering what was wrong with Alex. "Do you?"

Alex looked towards the empty space on Owen's left. "You don't see Izzie and Denny standing right next to you with their four ghost kids behind them?"

"No, I don't."

"Crap." Alex turned around so that his back was facing Owen and lifted his top. "Do I have a mole on my back?"

Owen stepped closer to examine Alex's skin. "That's odd… You've got a cluster of moles in the shape of… Does that say 007?"

"AHHHHHHH!" Alex screamed, though in a less girly way than Mark had. "George is haunting me! He's not even dead in Season 5.5!" Eyes darting in every direction in paranoia, Alex pulled down his shirt and ran off like a raving lunatic, having reached his quota of crazy people.

With a shrug of his broad shoulders, Owen continued merrily on his way – shirtless.

***

"Boo," Owen whispered into Cristina's ear, sneaking up on her.

Cristina jumped. "Holy Canadian bacon! How did you know I was here?"

"I just knew…"

"Okay, that's kinda stalkery… but very romantic."

Owen kissed the back of her neck, and all was forgiven. "What's that in your hand?"

"Oh, this?" Cristina asked, raising the icicle in her hand. "This is…"

"Is that the never-melting icicle that I pulled out of your chest, which symbolized the warming of your heart and your renewed ability to love?" Owen made to take it from her hand for a closer examination.

The second his skin touched the icicle, it shattered into a million pieces on the ground.

"You broke it!" Cristina whined.

"I don't know what happened. I don't know what happened! I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay," Cristina replied, pulling him into her arms. "You were asleep. It's okay, it's okay… Wait, that's not right… Hey! Why aren't you wearing a shirt!?!" Cristina took a step back, peering at his rock hard chest.

"You just realized that?"

"Well, I always imagine you without your clothes on, so I didn't notice. But seriously, why?"

"A voice inside my head told me to take it off."

"Uh oh, do we need to send you back to Wyatt?"

"Psh, no. That woman imposed a no-sex rule, I ain't never going back."

"Oh yeah… That jealous cougar! She's a terrible shrink."

Before Owen could voice his accordance, something sparkly caught his attention. "Look, the pieces of the never-melting icicle are glowing!"

Cristina looked at the ground. They were glowing. Suddenly, the tiny shards of ice floated in the air in a whirl of glittery fairy dust. When the imaginary wind settled, a wand with a sizeable cookie at the tip lay where the icicle once was.

"Oooh, pretty," Cristina said, picking it up, giving her a sense of déjà vu and a flash memory of her being on Sesame Street as a cookie fairy.

Wave the wand in the air and click your heels three times, a voice said in Cristina's mind.

"Whoa, I hear a voice, too!"

"Is it telling you to take off your shirt as well?"

"No, it's telling to wave the wand and click my heels."

"Do it. I want to see what happens."

"Okay." Cristina waved the wand, cookie crumbs falling everywhere, and tapped the heels of her tennis shoes together in three rapid successions.

Nothing happened.

"I don't think you did it right," Owen said after a while.

Just as Cristina was about to tell Owen that she was always right, a quake rippled through the hospital as the entire roof was pulled off by an alien spaceship. Owen pulled Cristina to the ground, covering her body with his, as per his savior complex.

A fluorescent ramp lowered from the spacecraft, ending where the couple was crouching. Blinded by the light, Owen was unable to make out the shape of the alien beings until they stood right before them.

Hello, Owen Hunt, a familiar voice said.

"Are you the ones who were putting thoughts into my head?"

Yes.

Cristina, whose face had been pressed into Owen's lickable chest, turned around to see what was going on.

"Is it just me, or do these things look like coconuts to you?"

"Actually, they look more like squeeing fangirls to me. Squeeing fangirls who dubbed themselves 'coconuts,' are currently taking over the world, and belong in an insane asylum."

Sweeping aside that long-winded response, Cristina stood up, brushing off the debris, and took on a confrontational stance. "What do you want?"

We are here to take you and Owen away on our spaceship, to save you from the dragons.

"Dragons? What dragons?"

The ones that are currently burning up your planet.

Cristina scoffed. "You seriously want me to believe that we're being overrun by dragons."

Your friend was having ghost sex.

"Huh… That's a fair point. Okay. Where are we going?"

To a new planet, where you and Owen will have more than two and a half minutes of airtime per episode.

"Two and a half minutes of airtime?"

It's a figure of speech. Do you accept?

"Do you have oxygen on your planet? Because I can't breathe….without you, I mean, air."

Well, duh. We know what we're doing. We're not Shonda.

Cristina turned to Owen, who apparently had a similar conversation with the telepathic coconuts.

"You want to go?" he asked.

"They're alien coconuts," Cristina replied, as if it made them less trustworthy.

"So?"

Unable to argue with that line of reasoning, Cristina took Owen's hand and refocused her attention on the alien creatures. "Okay, we accept."

Seriously?

"Seriously."

Seriously, seriously? All you have to do is say yes.

Cristina rolled her eyes with frustration. "Yes! Take us to your planet!"

Excellent.

***

"Is that a unicorn?" Owen asked, rubbing his eyes before looking again. No, his vision had not gone awry. He was indeed staring at a living and breathing unicorn.

Cristina was distracted with her own discovery. "Why are there so many rainbows? What are these aliens? Leprechauns?"

Owen made a face. Memories from his past life as a leprechaun were highly unwelcome.

A furry little animal purred, rubbing its head against her leg. Cristina kneeled down to pet it. "Why, hello there, kitty."

The kitten meowed in response.

"Hey, they didn't say anything about kittens. I'm allergic." Owen froze, waiting for the inevitable sneezing and tearing to start. It didn't.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about. I think these are hypo-allergenic kittens."

"Oh. Okay… So, what do you want to do first?"

Cristina got up and looked around at the vast land around them. "Well… We still haven't beaten Izzie's ghost sex record, yet," she said coyly.

A huge grin came across Owen's face. "Cristina, I love the way you think."

Elsewhere, in the comforts of their own homes, the coconuts eased into their cushy seats and turned on their television. The familiar masculine voice of the ABC promo announcer blared through the speakers, dramatically announcing the arrival of a new show. "On September 24th, the special two-hour series premiere of Just Cristina and Owen's Anatomy begins…" The screen flashes with provocative scenes of Cristina and Owen christening their first day on the new planet. "Only on HBO."