Hi, everyone! Well, I wasn't originally intending to publish this story, but my best friend CCNilesBabcock liked it so much I decided to gift it to her for her birthday. So here, on that most important day, is the first chapter. Happy birthday, my friend and nearest and dearest writing buddy. You deserve nothing but the best, and I hope that is what I have done and will continue to do for this particularly angst-filled scenario.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Nanny, or any of its characters, settings, etc.

C.C. was pissed off.

So far that day, everything had been setting her up so that she would be late for work. She couldn't believe she'd overslept that morning! Her stupid alarm hadn't gone off at the correct time, and then as she'd stumbled around trying to clear her head, eat and drink something, and get dressed for a day at the theatre, she'd almost left the penthouse without feeding Chester. So, that meant she'd had to go back, feed the damn dog, and then leave all over again!

She was gonna dump him on Nanny Fine one of these days. They deserved each other.

To top it all off, her seatbelt in her car seemed to be broken. It just kept undoing itself at any given opportunity. It was too late to call a cab, she'd just have to hold it as best she could until she got to the mansion, and then she'd get someone to take a look at it after work.

They had too much to get done that day for anything else, and she couldn't afford to be more late than she already was.

The traffic was proving to be a nightmare, too. Had everyone overslept that morning? She could have sworn everyone was going at least ten times over the speed limit, and her seatbelt had decided to undo itself again, forcing her to look down to try and mend it for the twelfth time in the space of the last five minutes…

That was why she didn't see it coming until the very last moment.

She was taking her turn at the lights, when a car in the lane parallel to hers swerved out of control.

The last thing she remembered was it careening towards the hood of her own car, and slamming the breaks on.

She didn't see the truck behind her having to break as well.

She had already closed her eyes and braced herself.

Silence.

And then she was opening her eyes to see the chaos. She was standing, despite not remembering getting out of the car. She supposed she must have been too stunned; her eyes were still a little blurry. It took a moment, but eventually her vision cleared perfectly, and she could hear everything again – the sirens, people yelling to one another. Yelling about needing a doctor, or medical attention, anything. She was stood a bit away from the twisted, almost unrecognisable wreckage, and all the screaming was coming from nearer the crash site, where somebody she couldn't see apart from their golden hair was being pulled from where they'd gone through the windshield of their car.

Their wreck of a car. It was almost unrecognisable as one from the accident.

She seemed fine, though, despite the obvious consequences of the carnage going on around her. She patted herself all over, checking just in case. She'd lost her purse during whatever had happened, but she'd find it again. She must've left it behind, in her BMW…

But first, check in with a police officer, or someone in charge of the scene. They'd get all the details of the car and anything that could be salvaged would be returned to her, obviously. And who knew? She might need attention and she just didn't know it yet. She wasn't in any pain, but that was a huge crash...

She marched herself right in the direction of the nearest police officer, who appeared to be taking control of the scene. He was busy talking to somebody else, but surely a victim of the crash demanded priority!

"Hey, officer, what's going on here?"

Nothing. The policeman kept right-on talking, like she wasn't even there. Well, he might have been addressing someone else, but the least he could do was stop and tell her so! Neither him nor the guy in front of him even looked in her direction as she came over!

"Hey! Hill Street Blues! I'm talking to you!" she snapped her fingers by his ear. "Can't you hear me?!"

Still nothing. C.C. felt her ire coming back, full-force. From her alarm, to her dog, to the stupid seatbelt, to the traffic and now to the crash, she'd decided that this was all more than enough for one morning.

"Are you deaf, pal? I am speaking to you!"

She punctuated her words by swinging her hand at him, hoping that her palm would make satisfying contact with his cheek.

It didn't. She watched in horror as her hand passed straight through his head and out the other side.

With a startled yelp, she recoiled, taking back her hand and examining it, "Huh…?!"

Her mind was racing. But, despite her dread and her panic, she couldn't feel her heart doing the same thing.

The crash.

The stupid seatbelt.

The ambulance people pulling a lifeless blonde from the wreckage and placing them on a stretcher.

Her eyes widened. It couldn't be possible…

She was stood there so long, watching it all unfold, that she had to jog to catch up with the EMTs, who were about to load the stretcher into the ambulance. She didn't want to look down at the body; she couldn't bear it. She refused to bear it!

"No, hey! You've got the wrong person, I'm right here! I'm right here! I can't be…I'm not! I'm talking to you right now; can't you see me? Or hear me? Say something if you can!" she shouted to them as they moved towards the ambulance.

Nothing. From them, or from anyone. No matter who she turned to, begging and pleading for someone to speak to her, none of them could hear her.

No one could hear her…no one could see her...what was going to happen now?

"But…what about my job? What about my penthouse?" she cried out, in case someone out there was listening. She watched helplessly as they began to load the stretcher into the ambulance. "The Sheffields! What about them? What about Niles?!"

Sensing that they were about to leave, she leapt into the back, finding minimal comfort in the fact that she could interact with this surface, at least. The doors closed behind her, and the vehicle took off.

And so did she, insisting that the EMTs do everything they possibly could. They worked on her as much as was probably possible in the back of a moving ambulance, with limited resources.

Everything, from adrenaline to defibrillators.

She watched their every move, desperation turning to despair.

"Oh God, this can't be happening…! Please! Someone, do something! You're medical professionals, damn it, you must be able to do something!" her screams were terrible, even to her own ears. She clawed uselessly at them as they began to zip up the body on the stretcher, lamenting their inability to save the poor soul in front of them. "Oh, no. No, no, no! Don't zip it up! I'm not done! Please! I'm not ready!"

That didn't seem to make much of a difference. The ambulance kept carrying on its journey, and C.C. slumped next to the medical professionals, who were probably kicking themselves for not being able to do more.

They wouldn't have been the only ones kicking if it were physically possible.