A/N: I'm baaack! I didn't forget about this story, I've just been stuck. Now I think I'm unstuck ( a little anyway,)

I did find that reading this a couple times made it funnier.

Here goes! Enjoy!

Recap: Meredith is in Derek's body, Derek is in Cristina's body... Cristina is in George's, and George in Meredith's.

Got it?

.

Derek didn't know what to do with the hair. Cristina's hair was an untamed mane of long black curls down past his shoulders. He figured out enough to brush it, and then he bunched it up together at the back.

Ponytail it was.

Fortunately, he had enough experience from watching his sisters to figure it out for himself. It was just weird actually doing it.

He analysed himself in the mirror, feeling like Cristina was staring at him, not the other way around. "It's passable," he muttered in her voice. "I'm Dr. Yang," he said, then tried it again with a little more fake confidence. "I'm Dr. Yang.

"I'm Dr. Yang and I'll be doing your valve replacement," he tried again.

Better. A little.

He grabbed Cristina's Stanford hoodie, phone, and hospital ID and made his way to Seattle Grace.

xxx

"Dr Shep-! Uh, Meredith," George called in Meredith's voice as he followed her down the hall. "What're we... what are we going to do?"

"Yeah," Cristina added, her voice surprisingly snarky and sarcastic coming from George's mouth. "What are we going to do?"

Meredith found herself in the bathroom, staring at the mirror. "What am I gonna do?" she said, staring at the black swirling mass that was now her hair.

Derek's hair. The McHair.

It stuck out in all directions and curled and unfurled and... Normally she liked running her fingers through Derek's hair...

But this was just weird. "George..." she turned to her friend. Her guy friend, who had guy hair. Meredith didn't do guy hair. She barely did girl hair.

"Don't look at me, I'm Cristina!" he snapped.

"Right. Sorry," she turned to herself, "George..." she said, gesturing to her head. "What do I do with this?"

"Hair? You're worried about hair? How can you be worried about hair at a time like this? I'm you, you're Shepherd... and," George swallowed and whispered, "she's me," he thumbed at Cristina, who stuck her tongue out at him and rolled her eyes.

"I-uh-um.." Uncertainty sounded strange coming from a top neurosurgeon with bed head. But why did everyone look at her to figure this out? How did she become defacto leader?

She really wanted tequila, like a lot of it.

Thankfully Cristina rescued her. Sort of. "Look," she said, "Shepherd is the freaking head of Neurosurgery, if we're going to figure this out, the best place to do it is at the hospital, and if we're going to the hospital, Meredith has to look like she has her act together."

"Hey!" Meredith swatted at Cristina, "Are you implying-"

"We're interns! None of us have our act together. Well, I have more of it together than you two dimwits..."

"Shut up," Meredith rolled her eyes, "and go put some pants on," she looked down at George's heart patterned boxers.

Cristina followed her gaze downward, and pulled a very Georgish, "Oh..." before glaring at them both and quickly exiting.

"Well?" Meredith looked at herself in the mirror. "George?" she pleaded, propping one arm up with the other and playing with a loose dark curl. Her stance made Derek look very effeminate.

"Uh, well, guys use combs..."

xxx

Derek shuffled through a backdoor to the hospital. Thankfully, his newfound status as a lowly intern had it's perks. Where usually upon entering, he was harangued by interns asking questions, residents wanting surgeries and nurses updating him on patients, now he was nobody.

Derek gulped. He hadn't been nobody in a long time.

He just had to get to Radiology. Figure out how to bribe a tech to give him a brain scan... and then process a blood sample.

Easy, right?

He decided to start with the blood sample. Slipping into a supply closet, he picked up the necessary supplies. He could probably just draw the blood right here, he thought as he snapped the tourniquet.

But before he could even begin, the door swung open. "What are you doing here?" A deep voice boomed.

xxx

"We're really doing this?" George asked from the backseat of Meredith's Jeep as they entered the parking lot of the hospital "Couldn't we call in sick? We should call in sick," he said as stared down at his new body.

"I've never called in sick to work. Ever." Cristina retorted, glaring at George. "And stop touching your boobs! It's... just wrong!

"George! Don't touch my boobs!" Meredith yelled, then looked over at her passenger, Cristina in George's body. "What?"

"Do you know how weird it is seeing Shepherd yell at you for touching his boobs?"

"You realize, that if we don't figure this thing out, you'll be stuck in Bambi's body for life, right?" she said.

"Yes..." Cristina said forlornly.

"Good."

"Meredith?" George asked from the backseat.

She turned to him as he leaned forward, "You have nice boobs," he whispered, nodding.

"Ass!" Without thinking, her hand whipped around and she slapped him, hard.

"Ow!"

"Holy..." Cristina muttered.

"Crap!" Meredith exclaimed. "I just slapped myself!"

xxx

"Cristina," Burke called, "I thought it was your day off."

"Uh..." Derek stared up at the much much taller man. How strange to physically look up at Burke. He stared at the stuff in his hands. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. "Er... ah,"

"Of course," Burke said, with a wry smile, "You're Dr. Yang. You don't take days off."

Yes. Right. He was Dr. Yang.

But before he could come up with something to say, Burke was leaning forward, tilting his head, his gaze on his lips...

"Gah!" Derek pushed Burke away and slipped past him. "Uh..." he turned his back against the door and pressed. "Uh... Sorry Burke, I'm Dr. Yang... and I have, I have surgeries! Yes! Many surgeries to do, because... I am... Dr. Yang," he said, pointing upwards. Whirling about, he didn't wait to see Burke's expression before he dashed off to the elevator.

"Oh..." he sighed as he pressed the button several times. That was... awkward to say the least.

The elevator dinged and he stepped inside, staring at his feet. And then he noticed a very familiar pair of shoes. Jimmy Choos.

"Dr. Yang," Addison greeted. "I thought it was your day off?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm Dr. Yang... I don't take days off," he choked out, repeating Burke's earlier characterization.

"Of course," she said, looking up from the chart she'd been reading. "Have you seen my husband? He acted really weird this morning."

Of course he was acting weird. He woke up in someone else's body.

He woke up in someone's else's body.

Who woke up in his body?

"Addison," he said.

She raised an eyebrow, "That's a little presumptuous, don't you think Dr. Yang?"

Derek sighed and ran a hand through his hair only to get it stuck. "Sorry," he muttered. "Have you seen Meredith?"

"No. Have you seen Derek?"

"Uh... no." Dammit, he had to find Meredith. Or Himself. One or the other. What the hell was going on?

xxx

"So what's the plan again?" George asked Meredith and Cristina as they sat on the bench in the locker room.

"We cancel all my surgeries, and I request you as my interns, and then... I don't know, we run blood samples? Scans?"

"Shotgun ourselves? That's crazy."

"Seriously, what else can we do? I'm really freaking out here." She leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees and lifted a hand to run it through her hair.

George's fat wrist grabbed hers. "Stop it," Cristina said. "You'll mess up the hair."

"What in the heavens is going on in here?" A familiar voice bellowed.

"Bailey!" George dropped his stethoscope.

"Um," Meredith looked up as Cristina pulled her hand away.

"What are you doing in here, Shepherd? And what the hell did you do to your hair?"

xxx

A/N: I know, I know... you want more. I will try my best to update again soon. If this made you laugh, please review!