A/N: Well I've had this little nugget of amusement in my head for a while. I had a version of it written on my old laptop but it's deceased. So, enjoy. I hope you find it amusing.
Owen's Bad Week
Chapter One – The Bubonic Plague Or Don't worry, All I need is a shirt. Pants optional.
Day 1
It was 2am and Owen was tossing and turning much to the annoyance of the person laying next to him.
He finally opened his eyes.
Too hot.
Only half an hour ago he had been freezing and had put on sweatpants and a sweater.
Now he was boiling. Owen slid off the pants and slipped off the sweatshirt, his body entirely covered in sweat.
He laid back down for another couple of minutes.
Owen had even freely given up the covers to Cristina Cover-Hog Yang.
And it wasn't working.
Owen finally got up and did the only thing he could think of at 2am.
He went into the bathroom and laid on the floor.
The cool tile soothed his burning skin.
Bliss.
An hour or so later, Cristina got up, not realizing that for the past hour she had been alone in bed.
She headed into the bathroom and did her thing. Afterwards, as she walked towards the sink, she tripped over something.
Or someone rather.
She looked down and saw her very naked husband fast asleep on the bathroom floor.
Cristina nudged him lightly.
He didn't move.
"Owen!" She shouted.
His eyes flew open.
"Wha...what...are you doing...in here?" Owen asked, not looking up.
He wasn't about to remove himself from the coolness.
"What am I doing in here? This is the bathroom Owen. What are you doing on the floor?"
"It's cold in here."
"It is but that doesn't answer my question." She said with a puzzled look on her face.
"It's too hot in the bed." Owen mumbled from the floor.
"Come on. Get off the floor. Get's get you back to bed."
She helped him off the floor and led him into the bedroom. He laid on the mattress and Cristina took the covers.
He immediately fell asleep.
Several hours later Owen awoke to a weird feeling in his stomach.
He leapt out of bed and made a mad dash to the bathroom where he promptly emptied the contents of his stomach, which wasn't much.
Cristina ran into the bathroom while her husband was busy dry heaving.
"Owen! Are you alright?"
He turned his face towards her. "...Nnnno..." He mumbled.
"You want some water?" She asked.
"..new..body..." He replied.
She rubbed his back and brushed her teeth.
"Wait..lllet me get ready...I just...have to put a shirt on..."
"You need pants too hon. Also, you aren't going anywhere."
"Wwhat? I'm fine."
"No you're not. You are going to stay home and I'm going to work."
"No...No I'm fine!" Owen said struggling to get up off the bathroom floor.
"You can barely get up!" She said helping him up and promptly washing her hands.
Owen looked at her, offended.
"Hey! I'm a surgeon! I need my health!"
"I'm not...contagious!"
"Says the man with the bubonic plague!"
Owen, too tired to continue the fight, grumbled and laid back in bed.
Cristina pat him on the head, Purelled* her hand and left.
Owen grumbled.
He wasn't contagious...
Cristina reached the hospital a short time later.
"Where's Owen?" Meredith asked her person as she approached her. Usually her and Owen would come to work together.
"Oh he's at home with the bubonic plague."
"Sounds serious."
"He'll be fine." She thought for a moment. "He better be fine. And soon. I can only go so long without sex."
"What about the part about just wanting your husband to get well again?"
"Yeah. For sex. Admit it. You feel the same way about Derek."
"It's true."
"Using me for sex? Wouldn't be the first time." Derek replied, smirking.
Meredith chuckled.
"God. What am I supposed to do? I don't know how to take care of a sick person!" Cristina complained.
Derek looked at her. "You're a doctor." He said a little shocked.
"Hey! Hospital sick! I need surgery sick! Not I need chicken soup sick! I need to wipe snot sick! That's not me! That's not Cristina Yang!"
Derek rolled his eyes.
Meredith nodded in agreement at Cristina.
"I've got your back." Meredith said.
A/N: Like? I might change the title though...