Title: "Isn't That Show Called 'Bang's Anatomy?'"

Author: ME GreyEyedGirl! :D (oooh, I'm listening to that awesome new Hoobastank song, "If I Were You," and I'm very happy about this. )

Chapter: Post-one shot for episode...2.22? "Name of the Game." :D You know. The one where Cristina came out naked. And Burke looked like his brain exploded. : ) : ) : )

No chapter title. There's just...no words, baby. :D

She needed to do something drastic. Basics...Basics. What was the most basic thing she could think of, the easiest way to get Burke's attention?

The thought didn't take even a second to cross into her brain, and she laughed at the thought. Naked Cristina was the easiest way to get Burke's attention.

The actual idea came in the remainder of a second left, and the thought came with a laughing Noooo. I couldn't. She paused, her eyes lighting up.

Ohhh, I totally could! She laughed out loud, grinning. They were both out there. Right now. And she wanted that boy out of her apartment, now.

So off went the clothes. She hesitated for just a second, her hand on the doorknob to their bathroom, then sighed, grabbing hold of her ponytail and pulling her hair free. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right. And Naked Cristina with her hair down always sort of momentarily made Burke's brain stop working.

It was George who noticed first, she was almost positive, as she strutted casually out of the doorway. How fitting to her complaint that it wasn't even Burke who noticed first. She heard George make a loud horrified noise (Whatever, she thought He wants this) and saw out of the corner of her eye him cover his eye with his hand. It was this that made Burke glance up, staring at her with his eyes wide for a whole second, before letting out a little scream.

"CRISTINA!"

She turned to him, raising her eyebrows. He was gaping and staring, obviously words were not the first thing he could concentrate on. His eyes lingered for a second too long. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

She blinked.

"Being comfortable in my apartment," she stated, as if it was the dumbest question in the world. He continued to gape in horror and shock, and George made another little screaming noise. "I didn't see a thing!" He whispered.

It was this that snapped Burke out of his reverie. "GET OUT!" Cristina held back a grin as she watched Hobbit Boy run. She couldn't hold back her smile, though, as she made her exit into the bedroom. He remained for a second, gaping, his mind still reeling, his eyes feeling like they were going to pop out of his head. What the hell? What, the, oh...my...god...She was naked. What the hell?

For the first time he thought back, remembering the small clues she had given, the small facial expressions that had told it all, the higher pitch her voice got when she was showing emotion or trying to make it sound like she wasn't telling a lie. How could he not have realized?

She was naked!

He felt his breath gasp, and slowly, his mind begin to clear. Cristina looked very nice naked. He shook his head, trying to put out the fire the sight of her had ignited, then just stared for a full minute to the doorway of their bedroom, where she had just slipped through, a drink in her hand. He felt rather than focused his legs moving towards it, his hand twisting the nob, his muscles doing their thing in order to make the door open.

Cristina looked bored. Bored. And there she was, a magazine covering the upper parts of her more delicate anatomy, but he still had a rather vivid view as she laid on their bed, still fully nude, her hair falling down her back as she sat with her back against the headboard, her legs sprawled out as she read the latest issue of Seattle magazine.

"Wha-You-" He whispered. She glanced up, one eyebrow raised in a most uncaring sort of position. He climbed onto the bed, and she laughed out loud, her nonchalant facade broken. He remained in shock, staring down at her, and her face turned serious. "I don't like being ignored."

The words hit him with an odd amount of force, and the moment she murmured them she seemed to regret it. With the words something in her face sort of changed, and she wasn't tough, strong, (albeit naked) Cristina anymore. He was now looking at a delicate, soft little person, her eyes moving to focus on something different as he carefully raised one hand to rest behind her neck. "I'm very sorry," he said, his voice still hoarse with shock. She smiled slightly at the lamp in the corner. "I love you. And even if..." He couldn't seem to be able to finish, he was still staring at her and parts of her as if he couldn't believe what he were seeing. "Even if you thought I...wasn't paying attent-attention..." He was now gaping, his face looking like one of a lost little boy, "I promise I never stopped...th-thinking about you," his voice seemed to be fading in and out. Then with one sudden movement, as he realized what had happened, he let out a loud little laugh, falling next to her on the bed, shaking with gasps and giggles. Cristina grinned, pushing her magazine off her stomach, falling backwards and laughing. His mind still didn't seem to be working right, he was still in shock at the utter surrealness of what had just happened, but as he heard her quiet laughter, his mind seemed to come back into reality. "You," he murmured, not even looking at her as he said it, staring up at the ceiling, already seeing her face in his mind, a small, silly smile on his face. Who is this girl? He thought, laying out loud at that one. Hell if he knew. She was his fabulous little mystery, more unpredictable than he could ever have imagined, like a puzzle he might never solve, but with each picture being more beautiful, if not more oddly shaped, than the last...

"That was..." He whispered, still staring at the ceiling, feeling soft strands of her hair brushing against his shoulder. She reached for his hand, and for a moment it struck him as unlike her, but then he thought about what he had last realized, and wondered if it was just another part of the puzzle. Like maybe someone had only given him part of a piece. He could only think of one person mean enough to give someone a half broken puzzle piece. Before he had time to process any of this she had rolled over, still laughing, slipping his shirt off. She rolled back onto her back, but now her head was leaning against his shoulder, their bare sides touching, her hair falling all down his chest. It took his breath away, and he briefly wondered how good it was for him, getting all these breath-taking moments all in the process of five minutes. Better not look at her for a second, then. His mind was still pulsing at the sight of her sudden nakedness, the fierce anger, not neccessarily logically backed up, that rushed through him at the thought of O'Malley's gaping voice. No one else was allowed to see her but him.

He was ready to look now. He could imagine all he wanted, and now he could finally look at it without shock. Now it was just...beauty.

And when he, not as much grinning but with a certain firmness, lifted her up a few seconds later, him now as naked as she was, she let out only one soft laugh, and the way his hands drifted over her body was anything but unsteady.