Edrisa Tanaka had always been very proud of not being a stereotyped cliché, even though everyone who took a look at her face just tended to assume that she was. She had been fighting stupid stereotypes her entire life.

She did not go to medical school because her parents were over demanding and crazy about their only child becoming a doctor. In fact, her father had been somewhat disappointed by her career choice, as he had expected her to follow his footsteps in business and to take over the Tanaka family company once he retired.

But Edrisa had wanted more from life than sort out the day to day challenges of toy manufacturing. She wanted to help people. So she went to medical school.

Midway through her internship's ER rotation, she had discovered that she should have listened to her father. Toys, as it was, were harder to break than people.

….

It had all happened so fast that the details were already fading in the gut-wrenching panic that followed.

Edrisa had opened the doors of the ME's office to retrieve her keys from her locker -because of course she would forget them today of all days- not really taking notice of her surroundings, when she came upon what could only be describe as a Mexican standoff.

Well, no... not really. In those, the people with the guns are supposed to be aiming them at each other, right? So, maybe it was just a regular stand off, because the sweaty guy with the out of control facial hair wasn't aiming his gun at either JT or Dani, as he should, because they were certainly aiming their pieces at him. No, he had it jammed under Malcolm's chin, pushing the profiler's head up in a way that looked nothing short of painful.

"Wha-?" her mind so confused that the medical examiner could not form a proper question. There were so many floating inside her head, all fighting for the front seat.

"Edrisa!"

"Get the hell out of here!"

She wasn't exactly sure who said what, but that didn't matter. Her whole world had shrunk down to the sight in front of her and all she could do was catalogue what her eyes were registering, like a post-mortem of the last moments of her life. Time slowed down as her breath caught in her chest and an eternity flew by.

Edrisa could see the trembling of Malcolm's right hand, trapped between his chest and the perp's arm, knuckles white with tension.

She could see the way that the imposing man using him as a shield was slightly slouching behind the profiler, shortening the difference in their heights, effectively preventing Dani or JT from venturing a lucky shot.

He stood so closely to his hostage that all she could see of his face was the bushy beard, grey and yellowed at points. A heavy smoker, her brain insisted on supplying her with the useless information, even as she registered in disgust that the man had his nose pressed against Malcolm's hair, invading his personal space, rubbing that filthy, unkempt beard against the other man's face in a manner that looked far more vile and disturbing than the gun shoved against his neck.

Finally she locked eyes with the man who had been her shameless crush ever since joining Gil's team. Gone was the mischief, the light mood and intelligent repartee that graced their usual interactions.

Bright's wide eyes were filled with fear... no, that look wasn't fear, not for himself at least. He looked... concern, frantic even, as he stared right back at her.

Because, in that split second that took the gunman to acknowledge her presence, the gun under Malcolm's stubbly chin was already moving away from him and pointing directly in her direction.

Edrisa had once watched a long winded -and very gory- documentary on violent reactions of cornered animals, how one should move slowly around them, avoiding loud noises and any sudden movement that might startled them and cause them to attack blindly.

To the guy trapped inside a morgue with two badass cops aiming guns at him, she might as well have stomped in there with a whole fanfare playing and fireworks shooting out her ass.

If it weren't for the absolute terror that had filled every fiber of her being, the small woman was pretty sure that she would have closed her eyes and missed what happened next. As it were, it happened so fast that she wasn't absolutely sure if what she was seeing was real or a product of too much adrenaline pumping through her circulatory system.

Bright moved like a panther. Ok, maybe that was still that damn documentary that she had seen, but he was... lightning fast. Effective too.

She had no idea what moves he had used, only that one moment that awful gun was about to blast in her face and the next the gunman was grunting in pain from a broken nose and standing in front of Malcolm, arms pinned behind his back, an arm around his neck, pulling him back, off-balance.

Her lungs screamed for oxygen and Edrisa finally remembered that she was supposed to breathe. She took a celebratory deep breath and was about to actually try to convince her heart that everything was okay now and that it could stop -well, not stop, that would be bad- it could finally slow down to a more civilized rate, when all hell broke loose. Again.

Because, you see, she hadn't been there for the beginning, and beginnings are important.