AN: Couldn't get this idea out of my head, so here we are. Dr!Kurt/Cop!Blaine. A few things before we start. I am pretty familiar with a lot of medical terminology/procedures but I've never worked in an ER. I've also never been a cop. So, I'm going to go off what research I can find and don't tear my head off if something isn't quite like RL.

That being said, Kurt is a doctor in the Emergency Room, so he's going to see his fair share of blood, bodily fluids, and death. And I apologize for the mentioned character death in this chapter. It's pretty crucial to the story.

Kurt pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. He blinked slowly a few times to clear the blurriness in his vision and slid his glasses back on. He was exhausted. He could feel the weariness in his bones. Thirty six hours of hell and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep for days. Instead, he still had to finish his paperwork.

He flipped the page of a chart and stared blankly at the computer monitor, eyes completely unfocused. What patient was he on?

The sound of the door being slammed open startled him, his entire body jolting in his chair.

"Kurt, we need you in Trauma Three."

Kurt groaned and swung his chair around. "Rachel, I told you, I'm off. Page Mike."

Rachel shook her head and threw a pair of gloves at Kurt. "He's in Trauma Two. Double trauma just rolled in. Sorry, Kurt. We need you."

Grabbing his stethoscope off the table and swinging it around his neck, he pulled himself out of the chair and followed Rachel out of the staff room. "What do we have, Dr. Berry?"

"Have you seen Puck's new partner?"

"Oh my god, yes, and damn, is he fine."

"And his arms? Did you see his arms?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Ladies, that's not exactly appropriate conversation for the charge desk."

Tina shrugged. "Sorry, Dr. Hummel, but if you saw him, you'd agree."

"Mhm, he's hot."

Kurt laughed and grabbed a chart. "I don't partake in nurse's gossip, you know that. Get back to work, you two. Tina, can you get room 10 set up for an abdominal ultrasound and Santana I need a CBC, chem panel and an UA from room 16."

Santana mock saluted Kurt. "Yessir, Dr. Hummel, sir."

Tina smiled and pushed Santana towards the supply room. "Go, Santana. Good luck on that stick, too. Took me twice to get the IV and that was after Ash had her two sticks." She paused before she left the desk and turned towards Kurt. "Hey," she said softly, and rested her hand on Kurt's forearm, "have you seen Officer Anderson? He really is—"

Kurt held up his hand and shook his head. "Tina, no. You know I don't date cops. So don't even start. And who says he's even gay," he ended with a whisper, darting his eyes back and forth to make sure no one was within hearing range.

"Anything's possible," Tina shrugged and reached past Kurt to grab consent paperwork. "Ask Puck, he'd probably know."

"What would Officer Puckerman know?"

Kurt groaned and shot a pleading look at Tina. "Nothing, Rachel. I need to go check on a patient. Tina, I believe you have something to do." He slid past Rachel and left the desk, ready to check on…he glanced at the chart again and sighed. Diarrhea for three days and vomiting. Wonderful. Some days he really loved his job.

And then there were days that he really, really loved his job. He peeled his shirt away from his body and carefully lifted it over his head. Yet another ruined shirt—no way he was going to bother trying to clean it. He sighed as he tossed it in the trash. At least he knew better than to wear designer to work. He'd cry if he got blood or in this case, vomit, on his good clothes.

He felt gross and he needed a shower. Of course his pager would choose that very moment to go off. He pulled it out of his pocket and as soon as he saw the numbers on the screen he immediately grabbed for a scrub top and his stethoscope. His splattered pants and shoes would have to wait.

The problem with rushing—pulling the scrub top over his head as he slammed through the door—was that he couldn't see through the tangled fabric of the top, nor did he really care at this point because he had to be somewhere like, now and that caused for a rather unfortunate incident of him crashing hard into a solid mass of body.

"Oh, crap, I'm sorry doc."

Kurt was able to at least pull his head through the right hole in the shirt and looked up, batting the hand away and scrambling to his feet. "I'm fine, excuse me," he rushed, quickly pulling his arms through the shirt and taking off towards the trauma room.

"That was Dr. Kurt Hummel, in case you were curious."

Blaine arched an eyebrow and tilted his head in the direction of the trauma rooms. "And why would I be curious, Puck?"

Puck grinned, toothy and mischievous. "Oh, no reason. He's single, you know."

Blaine whipped his head back and looked at his partner, eyes wide. He worked his jaw a few times and pulled off his hat, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Puck, I'm not—"

"Hey," Puck said quietly and pulled Blaine off to the side of the hallway. "It's okay, man. I've known Hummel for years—I can just tell these things, by now."

"I—" Blaine sighed and pulled his hat back on. "Just, don't tell anyone at the station, okay? It's not exactly something that goes over well."

Puck clapped his hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Won't hear anything from me. We're partners now, Blaine. It's like, against my code to share partner secrets with anyone."

"Right, okay. Thanks. So," Blaine started. He glanced toward the trauma room door again. "What do we do now in a case like this?"

"We wait," Puck shrugged, fingering his belt. "Doc has to give us the okay to be able to talk to the victim. Might be a while before she wakes up, so get comfortable, Anderson."

Kurt sighed and tore his gloves off, letting them fall to the floor. "Did she have any family here?"

"I'll check, Dr. Hummel," Tina said quietly while she pulled up the sheet. "I can have Santana start the death kit—"

"No, not yet," Kurt shook his head. "Everything is going to have to be bagged for evidence and the police are going to want photos. I'll go find them."

"Kurt, we did everything we could."

Kurt turned and looked at Mike, who was pulling off his yellow gown and gloves. "I know. Let me know if you find out about any family, Tina. Dr. Chang can sign the death certificate."

He pushed through the doors of the trauma room and immediately spotted Puck with another officer standing next to him. That must be his new partner, Officer Anderson. It took a second for the realization to dawn on him. He's the guy you crashed into. Well, nevermind all that. "Officer Puckerman, a word?"

Puck looked up and his eyes widened. "Sure, Kurt. This is my new partner, Officer Blaine Anderson. Did she—?"

Kurt motioned for Puck and Blaine to follow him towards the door of the trauma room and stood with the two cops just outside the door. "Her injuries were extensive. We did everything we could, but she never regained consciousness and she died."

"Shit," Puck whispered under his breath, "well, Blaine. How comfortable are you with blood?"

Blaine tore his eyes away from Kurt's blood soaked scrub top and glanced at Puck. "I'm not queasy, if that's what you're asking."

"Just let one of the nurses know when you two are done so they can take care of the kit, okay?" Kurt asked. He took a quick look at himself and sighed. "I'm going to go clean up and maybe get an hour of sleep."

Blaine tipped his hat in Kurt's direction and pushed the door open for Puck. "Sure thing, Dr. Hummel."

"So Puck's new partner is pretty easy on the eyes."

Kurt groaned and flung his head back against the back of the couch. "No, no. Not you too, Rach. I'm already hearing it from the nurses."

Rachel smiled and pulled her stethoscope off from around her neck and sat down next to Kurt. "What? I was just saying—"

"Rachel, I know exactly what you were just saying and cut it out. You know I don't go for—"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Go for cops, I know. But he's beautiful! At least let me ask Puck if he's gay."

"No, not a chance, Rachel Berry," Kurt said firmly. "And you know how cops are, even if he was, he's definitely not out."

"Maybe not at work, but," Rachel started but stopped when Kurt gave her his best bitch glare. "Fine, fine. I'll stay out of it. At least come out with us tonight?"

"Maybe, " Kurt sighed and closed his eyes. "Now, go treat some patients or something. I want to nap."

Rachel sighed and pulled herself up from the couch. She paused with her hand on the door and turned to face Kurt. "I miss him too, you know," she said softly.

"Rachel," Kurt warned, keeping his eyes closed but hoping his tone was enough. "Go."

"So I know some of the doctors and nurses get together on Friday nights at a bar not far from the hospital and I usually stop by. Sam does once in a while too, with his partner," Puck said, easily navigating the streets back to the station.

Blaine cocked his head to the side. "Is it usual for cops and docs to hang out together? It wasn't like that at all at my old precinct. We barely talked to the doctors."

Puck shrugged and eased the car to a stop at a light. "It's only usual when you've known the docs for years. Hummel, Berry and I all grew up together. Finn too but," his eyes darkened and he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

The name sparked a slight inkling of familiarity in Blaine, especially since it was so unusual. Where had he heard the name Finn before? "Finn?"

Puck sighed and pressed his foot against the accelerator when the light turned green. "Sergeant Finn Hudson." He set his jaw and focused on the road.

Blaine blinked and remembered seeing a large plaque on the wall in their station. Oh. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I am, too," Puck said. "Anyway, would you like to join us tonight?" He winked at Blaine. "Rookie buys the first round."

"I'm hardly a rookie," Blaine laughed.

"New kid is always the rookie, no matter if you're straight out of the academy or a transfer," Puck smiled and reached over to lightly punch Blaine's arm. "Plus, Kurt might be there."

Blaine groaned and shook his head. "Puck, don't start trying to play matchmaker just because you know I'm gay, now."

"Hey," Puck said, puffing out his chest slightly, "what kind of partner would I be if I didn't try to help you out?"

"Kurt!" Rachel yelled, waving from her spot at the table. "Over here!"

Kurt smiled and weaved his way through the other tables to where his friends were sitting. "Hey guys."

Dr. Mike Chang clapped him on the back and pulled out the chair next to him. "Have a seat, what do you want from the bar?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Kurt said, waving Mike off.

"Like hell, Hummel. One drink and it's on Anderson here."

Kurt twisted in his chair and looked up at Puck. "Good evening, Noah. So glad you could make it."

Puck grinned and pointed at Blaine. "Everyone? This is my new partner, Blaine Anderson. He just transferred in from Ohio. Blaine? This is everyone."

Blaine waved and reached around to shake everyone's hand, knowing he'd probably forget most of their names pretty soon. He was horrible with names. When he got back around to Kurt, he smiled. "I believe we've met."

Kurt nodded and adjusted his glasses. "At least this time I'm not running into you or covered in blood." He smiled and turned back to the table.

Puck grabbed Blaine by the shoulders and pointed him towards the bar. "We'll be back with the first round!"

Kurt leaned up against the bar and waved down the bartender.

"Need any help carrying the drinks back to the table?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow and turned toward Officer Blaine Anderson. "Did Rachel send you up here?"

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Kurt with confusion. "Rachel?"

Kurt sighed and pointed at Rachel, who was currently waving her hands wildly in Puck's face. "Dr. Rachel Berry. Did she send you up here?"

"No, I—" Blaine said and hoisted himself up a stool. "Puck said you were buying a round and I figured—"

Kurt groaned and shook his head. "I'm going to kill him," he muttered.

Blaine's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Kurt closed his eyes briefly to compose himself and when he reopened them he was met with very concerned gold flecked eyes. "Nothing," he said. "Can you bring the drinks to the table? I need to have a talk with Officer Puckerman."

"Uh, sure," Blaine said, clearly still very confused.

Kurt pushed off from the edge of the bar and purposely moved towards the table. "Noah? A word?"

"Oh, you're in trouble, Puckerman," Santana grinned. "He used your first name again!"

"Like I'm scared of Hummel," Puck said and stood up out of his chair. "What's up, Kurt?"

Kurt gestured toward the door and grabbed Puck by his shirt. "Outside, now, Puck."

"Whoa, hey," Puck said after he was pulled through the door and was now standing outside. "That's assaulting an officer."

Kurt rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "Just exactly what is going on in there?"

Puck blinked and glanced toward the entrance to the bar briefly before returning his gaze to Kurt. "Going on where? What are you talking about?"

"Officer Anderson. I get it, he's good looking. But you guys don't need to keep shoving him down my throat—"

"Whoa," Puck said, holding his hands up. "Dude, chill. Again, what in the hell are you talking about? Wait," he grinned. "You think he's good looking?"

"Oh shut up," Kurt huffed. "Puck, just. Don't, okay? I don't even want to know if he's gay. I'm not interested in dating a cop."

"Say, hypothetically, that he was," Puck said slowly. "And I already told him you were single—"

Kurt groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. "Puck you didn't."

Santana opened the door and glanced at Puck and Kurt. "You two done killing each other out here? Puck, your partner looks like a lost puppy, or something. You better come rescue him."

"Right," Puck said. "We'll be right in Satan."

"Santana," Kurt corrected, rolling his eyes. He smiled at her and nodded. "Just give us a sec, San."

"No problem, but I'm not responsible for Officer Anderson in there. He's fine, and that's coming from me," Santana grinned and went back inside.

Kurt sighed and turned back towards Puck. "Noah, I'm warning you right now. Don't even try. You know very well why I wouldn't date a cop."

"Alright, alright," Puck conceded. "Fair enough. Let's go back in and make sure they're not making Blaine's life miserable."

"Knowing Rach and Santana? They probably are."

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