Ok, I know I should be writing my other fic, but this idea didn't want to leave my head. Will probably be only a couple of chapters. Enjoy! :)
Jac Naylor casually pressed the panel for the lift, watching the numbers, slowly, travel downwards. She glanced at her wristwatch; she was in unimpeachable time as usual and, yet again, her incompetent F2 Oliver Valentine was no where to be seen. Stupid F2! Why did I even agree to mentor him anyway? He is always late. Whether that's due to a drunken hangover or a meaningless fling, I don't know. Eventually, the door uttered a disgruntled PING, and she entered the lift. Abruptly, the drenched figure of Dr Valentine burst into the Hospital, yelling at his mentee and waving an unused umbrella in the air. Skidding to a halt in front of the lift that had, conveniently, not yet closed, Oliver quickly exhaled in relief, muttered a few unprofessional words, and accessed the elevator. Glancing at his dry umbrella, Jac dismissed her questions, knowing better than to question her mentees strange actions. The lift was devoid of any life except the unlikely duo, so there was no anxious chatter from scared relatives or the reassuring tones of the overworked nurses, or the confident, tactless banter from doctor to doctor, there was only silence. Uncomfortable silence. Jac pictured the darkness of the empty shaft below, so she tried to block it out by staring, unblinkingly, at the numbered display of the changing floors. She had been haunted her whole life by a mild case of claustrophobia – the vestige of a childhood incident she had never quite overcome. Jac's aversion to closed spaces had always frustrated her. She had spent years building up her reputation as the "Ice Queen", and if this weakness was known, it could, potentially, ruin her. Jac had often suspected that a small part of wanting to become a doctor was because of her craving for wide, airy spaces like the wards on Darwin. However, she didn't account for the many lifts needed to travel through the hospital, because she always, if she could, chose to take the stairs instead… besides, they were quicker.
Oliver cleared his throat nervously, hoping to break the empty silence, but instead broke Jac's incessant daydream. She blinked for a couple of seconds, composing her self. "Have you got into the flea circus yet?" Jac mocked, sarcasm becoming her shield now. She smiled to herself, and Oliver simply rolled his eyes, knowing that any reply would be thrown back into his face. "Surely you're not speechless Dr Valentine?" cynicism, yet again, dripping from her words and condensing her mask. Slowly, Ollie sighed, stealing a look at his mentor. Her red hair was laying down the arch of her back, and looked like, to Ollie, crackling flames. She was wearing a simple, but nice, white laced top that hugged her faultless figure perfectly, and some plain, black as night trousers – blacker than the heart in her chest – Ollie thought.
Suddenly, the whole lift aggressively shook, sending Oliver and Jac plummeting to the ground. The elevator groaned and screeched in protest, emitting bright sparks from the machinery above. Jac's heart thumped in complaint. Quickly, she threw her hands over her face in a protective arc as debris was thrown into the air. Utter terror exhumed her. Threatening to pull her down into darkness. Oliver had hit the ground with great potency and his limp body had found its way to the other end of the lift to where he had first stood, blood issuing from the wound on his head. Whats going on? Jac blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. As unexpectedly as it had started, the tremor stopped. Jac coughed quite violently in the denser, smoke – filled air and, on her trembling knees, made her way to the motionless F2, expecting the worst. As she rolled over his unmoving body, Jac mentally prepared herself for what she might see. She caught her breath. A shiver crept down her spine. Slowly, she surveyed the figure in front of her, checking relentlessly for any sign of injury except the abrasion on his head. Leaning over him, she examined Oliver's pulse against her watch. Was he dead?