Me: Yes, yes, I know you're all waiting for the next chappie of H.I.H, no need to get bitchy! ANYWHO, here it is, and make sure to eat plenty of orange-flavored microwaves while you're at it! (they're good for your health! ;D)

Sam made her way out of Flint's hospital room and shut the door behind her, smiling in triumph as a nurse passed her by with a curious look on her face. Surprisingly, it was Janet, the nurse from before.

"How is Mr. Lockwood? Does he need some medication or anything?" the young nurse asked, not really sounding like she cared all that much. Sam shrugged.

"I'm going to get him some food. Anything he can't eat?" Janet shook her golden hair and snuck a quick glance at her clipboard, which was still clutched to her chest protectively.

"There are no records of--" Sam nodded and ran off to find food before Janet could finish. The nurse raised an eyebrow at her back, shaking her head.

"Sheesh, someone's in a hurry..."

Flint was furiously searching through a closet in his room, shoving past containers with IV needles and those liquid-filled packs, mumbling in frustration to himself as he looked for his clothes. The extremely short hospital gown was getting on his last nerves, and he had to find some real clothes before he went absolutely insane.

Unfortunately, Sam was just walking in with two club sandwiches, a vanilla latte, and a good ol' fashioned Coca-Cola. The weather girl let one of her eyebrows arch dangerously high as she saw her boyfriend disappearing in a mountain of medical supplies.

"Uh, Flint?...What are you doing?" she asked warily, setting the food down on his unoccupied bed. Obviously, he was either looking for his trademark lab coat, or he was just bored out of his mind. Knowing Flint, Sam went with the latter of the two options. There wasn't much you could invent in a hospital room.

Speaking of the inventor, he poked his head out of the closet and smiled sheepishly. "Um, I was looking for my clothes...ooh, is that a club sandwich?!"

Sam smiled and shook her head. Oh well, she was wrong. "Yeah, your favorite."

"Thanks, Sammy!" Luckily, Flint was hungry enough that the sandwiches were driving him out of the now-messy closet and steering him to the bed. Sam shrugged and grabbed a sandwich and the vanilla latte, settling down in her chair.

"The line wasn't long; it was no biggie." What Flint didn't no was that the young woman had to endure endless, impossibly snide comments about her previous meeting with Sandra while waiting in an extremely long line for her food. But there was no way she would admit that to Flint, right? "Pretty much, no one paid attention to me."

"Well, still. Hey, these are good!" CHOMP!

Sam giggled at the comical sound her boyfriend had made and took a bite out of her own sandwich, instantly sharing his opinion on the food. "Hey, you're right! These are even better than the club sandwiches that came from your food machine!"

Flint rolled his eyes at the accusation. Even though the aforementioned machine had nearly destroyed his entire town, his family and "friends", it had made some really good food. There was no other food like it, especially the club sandwiches. "You just keep thinking that, Sammy. You just keep thinking that."

Sam playfully shoved his arm and smiled at him, taking a sip of latte. "Ah, don't be mean, Flint. You know it's the truth."

"Let's agree to disagree, shall we?"

"Sure, sure."

The two lovers smiled at each other and continued on with their meals in silence, simply enjoying each other's company. Sam mind was wondering to her little "reunion" with Sandra, and how mentally screwed up the girl was. Jeez, Sam had really tried to forget the evil-minded brunette as her high school years had ended, hoping that if she got a cheap little job as a preppy weather girl, then all her past problems would just fade away like graphite with an eraser.

Well, of course, nothing could really go right in her life.

Flint, on the other hand, was pondering about where the hedge Steve was, so he piped up with, "Speaking of animals, do you know where Steve is?"

Sam stopped in mid-bite and shot a glance at the inventor, narrowing her eyes. "Well, that was completely and utterly random."

"So?" Flint replied, shrugging ever-so nonchalantly. Sam casually rolled her emerald eyes and wrapped half of her club up.

"Anyhow, Steve is still asleep in the Animal Ward. The docs said he should be awake by tomorrow, presumably," Sam said, peering with one eye down into her styrofoam cup, frowning slightly when she discovered the creamy liquid had disappeared. "No worries."

"Hm."

Again, a heavy yet comfortable silence filled the space around the couple and they both began to nestle into their...respective minds when out of nowhere, a loud knock made Sam literally crash through the roof in surprise. Seriously, she jumped out of her chair and almost touched the ceiling.

"GAH!" the redhead cried as she fell to the floor, groaning once again as her head collided violently with the linoleum. "Sheesh, knock a little louder, why don't ya?!"

Flint bumped his head on the railing of his bed and mimicked Sam's earlier groan, both of the wounded adults glaring angrily at the acursed door. Sam spat through gritted teeth, "Come in."

A pleasant-looking doctor walked in with a clipboard similar to Janet's, and smiled heartedly at them. "Very sorry to disturb you, but I'm Dr. Cristine. It's time for Mr. Lockwood's medication."

Sam had too much manners to voluntarily cuss out a doctor, so she bit down quite forcefully on her bottom lip and muttered, "Okay."

Dr. Cristine smiled again and set the clipboard down on a chair, taking blue medical gloves out of her coat pocket and snapping them on. She went to the closet and raised an eyebrow at the mess. Obviously, someone had been looking for something in the poor closet. Therefore, Dr. Cristine dove in and managed to bring out a piece of paper.

Both Sam and Flint shot each other looks, but kept quiet as the woman took a needle out of the cabinet hanging over one of the sinks. She also grabbed a miniature pack of disinfectant wipes, and walked back over to the couple.

"Alright Mr. Lockwood, would you like it in your right arm or your left?" the raven-headed professional asked while putting the paper on the clipboard. Flint shrugged and pointed to his right. "Very well."

Dr. Cristine swabbed the area on his upper-right arm and Sam smiled at Flint. "Once you're knocked out, I'll go see how Steve is doing, Ok?"

Flint smiled at his determined girlfriend and stroked her cheek with his free arm. "Sounds good to me, Sammy."

The inventor was surprised when the long needle was stabbed into his arm, and he almost winced. It didn't really hurt; it just caught him off-guard. He began to feel just a bit drowsy, and Dr. Cristine pulled the hospital gown fabric back over him arm.

"All done. I'll leave you two some privacy," Dr. Cristine said politely and picked up her clipboard, disposed of the needle and disinfectant, and stepped quietly out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her. Sam glanced at Flint as his eyelids began to droop a bit and he yawned hugely.

"Getting sleepy already?" she chuckled and pecked his cheek, standing up. "Guess that means it's time for ol' Sammy to go check up on Steve, huh?"

Flint nodded sleepily and began to drift off into dreamland happily, and Sam exited his room, anxious to see how Steve was. It was going to be a long day for the redhead.

Me: Wow, finally, I updated! MWUHAHAHAHAHA! Anywho, review puples, and I will update again! Peacuz!

-Peachuz!