A/N: All names were changed to protect the persons involved.

High heels clicked crisply against the linoleum floor as Irma, nurse extraordinaire and winner of several Nobel Prizes, expertly maneuvered her way to Room 313. She held her pen between her teeth as she skillfully dodged several trollies being rushed down the all-too-narrow hallways, all the while never taking her eyes off the white review sheet she had clipped to a beaten clipboard bruised she held in her arms.

As she neared Room 313, Irma's dark, intense eyes suddenly snapped up from her clipboard and locked on the resident male nurse currently badgering a petite, blond girl shuddering with sobs.

"Yeah, shame about your father . . . Why don't you come with me to dinner and talk about it?" he leered at the girl, who only wailed and tried to press herself even more into the wall, trapped by his arms. Irma found herself slowly turning from room 313 and making a beeline for the trapped blonde girl and the male nurse.

"Hey, why don't you leave her alone," she snapped at the male nurse. The male nurse didn't turn around, still staring at the crying girl like she was a piece of meat.

"No I can do anything I want to," the male nurse growled, then he turned his head and saw Irma and his jaw dropped.

For Irma was holding a machine gun, and she slaughtered that beyotch.

After she was done ridding the world of that idiot, she kicked the body to the side and looked at the petite, blonde girl, who was no longer crying.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, and the girl nodded. She smiled warmly, then bent down to her level.

"What's your name?" Irma asked. The girl looked up at her, wide-eyed.

"DEATH," she growled in a hoarse guttural voice, and her hair became an ink-black and flipped over her face, and she immediately turned away and ripped out the throat of the male nurse.

Irma shrieked and ran away into Room 331, stacking tables, chairs, beds, everything she could find blindly against the door, trying to block out the gurgled screams from outside until she couldn't take it anymore and sunk to the ground, sobbing from the improbability of it all.

"You know, that won't work," a low, sexy voice rumbled from the shadows, and Irma whirled around, gasping.

"Whale, not for long," the voice elaborated, chuckling a bit, and the owner of the voice stepped into the light.

Irma stared at the owner of the voice. He had dark brown, mesmerizing eyes that just seems to penetrate Irma's walls of defense and peer into her soul. His too-long dark brown hair went into his eyes, and he ruffled his messy head of hair with his MANLY, CALLOUSED hands, strangely out of place with his absurdly long, thick eyelashes. He had curvy, pouty salmon pink lips too beautiful to be on a guy, offset by a chiseled jaw and squared shoulders. Emmy tore her eyes away from the face to check out the body, and realized that in that area he was not lacking either. For while he wasn't, perhaps, as buff as some of the gus Emmy had dated, he wasn't exactly the skinniest, either, with toned wiry muscles that she could definitely tell existed under his thin hospital gown. She murmured to herself, "Like it was sculpted by the gods." (DIRECT QUOTE FROM IRMA)

"What?" the mysterious guy asked, confused. Irma stared at him in awe.

"Who are you?" Irma croaked out. The stranger's magnetic gaze kept on her, slowly went down her body, then back up. Irma felt like she was naked in this guy's gaze, even though she had the dowdy—oh right, the MESSES later decided that Irma would have to wear skimpier clothing—extremely revealing nurse's uniform on.

"Thane . . . Dee," the stranger softly said, and Irma decided that she had never heard a hotter sound in her life.

Thane Dee stalked closer to Irma, and Irma subconsciously moved away from him, closer to the pile of junk on the door. "And what's your name, Kitten?" Thane purred. His eyes slowly trailed down Irma's body before finding their way up to her face. Irma shifted uncomfortably.

"I—"

BANG! BANG! Thane Dee and Irma's little moment was interrupted as someone banged on the doors. "Let me in, Ms. Nurse! Please let me in!" A high-pitched voice sang gleefully. "I've been a bad girl and killed everyone in the hospital, and now I got a boo-boo and I need some band-aids! He-lloooo?"

Thane instantly crouched down and pulled Irma down with him. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor and Thane swore.

"You're going to have to take those off" he hissed. Irma shot him a look.

"No shit, Sherlock," she snapped as she carefully unbuckled her high heels.

Thane watched her fingers work while he unfastened the straps on her shoes and shook his head at the thoughts that flooded his head. No, stay focused, he said to himself as he scanned the room. He heard the girl outside rock back and forth on her heels.

"I'm waitinggg," she called, tapping her toe impatiently.