N.B. Some Profanity

It's bright. Too bright - and rather blurry. Emily winced and squeezed her eyes shut before blinking furiously. She looked around slowly, the pain throbbing in her head quickly making itself known. Damn – what happened this time? A groan drifted past her lips as she realized just how stiff her body felt. Slowly, her senses trickled back to her, as she heard the faint yet irritating, steady beep from the various hospital machines she was hooked up to. Slowly, slowly, then all at once, she spotted the woman sleeping awkwardly in the chair beside her bed, her long, blonde hair mussed and matted, her blouse crumpled, a blanket draped haphazardly across her lap. Emily couldn't help but stare at her, drinking in her features under the harsh, sterile light of the hospital room.

Shit. I died.

That was all Emily could think as she stared adoringly at the angel before her. She was so busy repeating this refrain in her head, that she hadn't noticed the angel's light snuffling stop, her eyes open and dart around the room, before falling onto Emily's face. It was only when the angel startled and sat up straight, blanket falling, forgotten on the floor, that Emily realized the angel was staring straight back at her.

"Emily?"

Emily's eyes widened as the angel started speaking to her. Oh! She knows my name!

"Can you hear me? Are you ok? Sorry stupid question – are you in pain, is there anything I – I should really get a doctor…" As the angel spoke, all Emily could think was how beautiful her voice was, light and melodic. As the angel continued to stare at her, worry creeping upon her stunning features, Emily realized that she was still staring gormlessly at her, and quickly shut her mouth, flushing red. She tried to speak, but her throat felt dryer than the Sahara, and all that came out was a garbled, croaky mess.

"Here, there's some water, it's fresh – just sip it slowly. They had to intubate you for a while so that might be why your throat is sore." The angel guided Emily to sit up, and passed her a plastic cup with some water and a straw. Emily sipped at it, trying hard not to guzzle it down, the cool water refreshing her throat and clearing her head somewhat.

Listening carefully this time to more than just the sounds the angel was making, Emily managed to understand her. "Intubate huh? So I guess I'm not dead then?" Emily weakly joked, a tired smile on her lips. The angel just looked down at her in disbelief, before deciding that was a battle for another time. Instead, she leaned closer to Emily, gently brushing her bangs out of her eyes – being mindful of the bandage that wrapped around Emily's skull – and softly spoke, "Definitely not dead Em." Before Emily's battered brain could compute what was happening, the angel was kissing her – and not a peck on the cheek, but a proper, out of this world, stars in her eyes, toe-curling kiss.

Wow. "Wow." Emily let out a breathy whisper.

The angel smiled down at her, a sweet giggle leaving her lips as Emily ogled upwards – her face on fire. If I'm not dead, then I'm dreaming, and I never want to wake up. Just as she was about to say as much out loud, there was a slight knock at the door and a nurse walked in. He was busy looking down at the chart in his hands, so it took him moment to realize the patient was awake.

"Oh, well, look who decided to come back to the land of the living." The nurse was jovial as he charted Emily's vitals and disconnected a couple of wires that were no longer required. He chatted the whole time, seemingly unfazed at the fact that Emily barely even glanced at him, too busy watching the angel, half scared that if she looked away, the angel would disappear forever.

The nurse left, peaceful silence claiming the room, both women content to simply look at one another, Emily acutely aware of the fact that the angel was holding her hand, stroking circles into her palm - the angel seemingly oblivious to the effect this was having. The moment was shattered by the door swinging open once more, this time a doctor entering.

He didn't bother with many niceties, simply introducing himself as Dr. Stevens before jumping straight into examining Emily, looking into her eyes with a light, and getting her to follow his finger with her eyes, plus a few other actions that he noted down on her charts.

"Well, this is all looking very positive Mrs. Prentiss, if I could just have you answer some basic questions, I think you'll be going home very soon – depending on the results of your CT scan of course. I'll be scheduling that for this afternoon."

Emily could only nod – despite the pain this caused, her mind replaying 'Mrs. Prentiss' over and over again, like a stuck record.

When the hell did I get married? Am I undercover? I don't remember … crap! What even is the last thing I remember? C'mon Emily think, he's probably going to ask me that, I absolutely cannot let on that I have no clue, he'll never let me go home…"

As these questions rushed around her head, Emily felt a rush of gratitude to the way she was raised – her politicians face firmly in place, not showing her inner turmoil. "Fine, ask away, but try not to be too cliché." Emily smirked at the doctor, who simply winked in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of way, before starting his questioning.

"Ok Emily, who is our current president?"

"Obama." There was a subtle undertone of uneasiness in Emily's answer, but she was fortunate that Obama got a second term, as he was currently enjoying his sixth year in the white house. Although in Emily's mind, he had only just started his first.

"Great, and could you tell me your full name please."

"Uhh," Emily just heard 'Mrs.' echoing once more. Pushing past the slight panic, she replied, "Emily Elizabeth Prentiss."

Again, the doctor scribbled once more, but not before glancing at the angel who had been sitting silently next Emily, radiating support. Emily chanced a glance at her, and did not miss the slight hurt that shone out of her sea-blue eyes. Uh oh – not a good sign. Do something! She caught the angel's attention and sent her her best apologetic shrug-and-smile, lightly squeezing the hand still holding hers, glad to feel an increase in pressure back. Suspecting the doctor's next question may be even more difficult to answer, she jumped in first with her own.

"So what actually happened? All I can remember is bits and pieces."

Not exactly true, but… not a complete lie either. The doctor looked at her for a moment, and Emily held her breath, afraid she had been rumbled.

"You got shot Mrs. Prentiss. Shot in the head."

Well, he doesn't hold back his punches.

"You were rather lucky, as the bullet merely grazed the top right side of your head. Perhaps as much as 1cm deeper, and we would not be having this conversation." And with that pleasant thought, Dr. Stevens bid his farewell, telling the pair that an orderly would be taking Emily down for her scans in a couple of hours, and that she should get some rest.

"And tell your wife to get some rest too, she has not left your side since you were brought in – she deserves a medal for putting up with those terrible chairs, I'm surprised she can still move." With a wink and a wave, he was gone.

Emily barely heard a word he said past the fourth one.

Goddamn. I married a fucking angel. Am I sure I'm not dead?

PM me with any/all questions - please review with constructive criticism. This storyline came to me in a vague dream, and I don't want it to be only making sense to me, so anything that you find confusing please, please, please let me know so I can have a think and change things up/make things clearer.

B.