A/N: This story was originally written as a gift for Shug. It's a bit different than my other two stories, but I kind of like it.

Thanks to my fantastical Beta Twike Black. Yes, she married into the black family. Sick. Thanks to my other Betaish person Profmom72. She was a great great help. Her stories are fantastic. Check them out in my favorites. Oh and Daisy made me a cool banner. Everwondering is my twilighted beta and my dearykins who writes my favorite Edward ever. I'm hosting the Once Upon a Twilighted Fairy Tale Contest with her. Check out my profile for a link.

Good Enough Chapter 1

I saw a bright white light, and knew I must be dead. The last thing I could remember was coming around the corner and hearing the shot. I barely even saw the bastard's face. I should have stayed in the car like Whitlock told me to. I woke up this morning and thought today would be the end of this case not the end of my life. I continued to float toward the white light, and I wondered why heaven smelled of antiseptic, detergent, and body odor. Weren't there supposed to be angels singing? Why were people yelling?

"Shhhh," I tried to tell them.

"He's coming to," I heard a man's voice announce. I was still moving, floating, drifting. With a quick jolt, everything stopped, and my eyes flew open. I was surrounded by men and women in surgical attire and my mom. Why is my mom crying? Why does my shoulder feel like its on fire? I felt myself slipping back toward the light.

Then I saw her. It was just a quick glance. She was standing against the wall as the gurney passed by, but for a moment our eyes met. She looked at me with such tenderness and mercy that it made my heart swell. The concerned frown on her sad face made me want to yell out something witty if only to make her smile. The people and the pain were gone, and there was only her. She brought me to a decision. I was not going to die, and I would gladly go to hell and back if it meant I could look into the eyes of my angel again. I would fight death and pain and James for the singular chance to hear her voice.

It had been hours, but it felt like an instant to me. The effects of the anesthesia jumbled my senses. There was another white light, hushed voices, and searing pain in my shoulder, gut, and throat. I could feel the tubes going through my nose and hear the beeping of machines. I panicked and tried to reach for my gun with my right hand, but I found I was wearing a thin … nightgown?

"Mr. Masen, you're in the OR recovery room at Seattle West. You're just waking up from surgery, please try and relax." A blonde kid wearing scrubs gently moved my arm back to my side.

"What am I doing here?" I whispered, the tubes making it painful to even do that.

"You were shot - it looks like three times," the kid replied hitting a button on a machine. I felt the squeeze of the blood pressure cuff on my right forearm.

"Am I going to die?" I was having difficulty processing where I was and what was happening to me. I wasn't the kind of agent that regularly got shot at, but I knew enough about firearms and anatomy to know they aren't a good combination. I started mentally going through the other agents in my office trying to remember if anyone else besides Whitlock had been shot before. There might have been one or two others, but I was pretty sure no one could say they'd been shot three times. Even in the movies, people could usually survive two. A person could even be shot in the heart and make it. Three times though – three times was usually bad news. If I made it out of here in one piece, I was going to be a legend.

"That's not really something I'm qualified to answer. Dr. Newton will be with you soon to tell you what you want to know," the kid replied and kept checking my vitals. "I'll get you something for the pain."

I wasn't about to ask for anything, but I'd gladly let him give it to me. The throbbing in my body was searing. I don't know if it was hours or minutes later when they finally wheeled me to my room. I noticed the uniforms stationed outside my door, and we nodded at each other solemnly as I was rolled past them. They moved me from the gurney to a bed, picking me up on my sheet like I was completely helpless. After a few minutes I was too tired to care. The pain meds must have been kicking in.

I woke later with a start. I'd dreamed of a woman with deep brown eyes and long brown hair. She stared at me with a sad expression, and I longed to reach out and touch her. Next I was being chased by James Darnell. Then I was chasing him. Suddenly he stopped, turned, and aimed the gun at my forehead. I woke with a start when I heard a shot ring out.

"Shhh, you're okay," a soft voice reassured me. "You're safe now." A delicate wrist reached over my face and patted a cool washcloth on my forehead. She moved her hand, and I let out an audible gasp. It was her. The angel from my dream was standing by my bed patting my arm reassuringly.

"You're very lucky you know," she spoke almost in a whisper. "The bullet missed your artery by millimeters." She smiled at me, and I could hear the heart rate monitor beep faster. She was quite possibly the most exquisite creature I'd ever seen. Her hair was dark brown and soft, her brown eyes seemed gentle, and the way that she smiled at me with a mixture caring and apprehension made me want to sigh like a girl.

"A piece of your small intestine was damaged and had to be removed, but you've still got what 20 feet of it to spare?" She grabbed my wrist and started to take my pulse. "You've also got a couple of broken bones, and we need to watch for infection in your lungs. Pneumonia is your biggest risk at this point but nothing to be too afraid of."

"Are you my doctor?" I croaked out. I still couldn't really talk because of the tubes.

"No," she smiled. "Sorry, I should have let the doctor tell you all that. I'm a nurse, but hopefully I'll be a doctor someday. I'm studying for my MCATs. I read your chart while you were asleep." She moved to type something into the laptop on a cart. "I wish you could talk. I'm dying to know just who you are Mr. Masen. There's a guard outside your door and assigned me and another nurse to take care of you. You're my only patient. They did a background check on me and everything before they sent me up here. Wait, I hope you're not a criminal. Is that it? You're dangerous aren't you? You're probably some sort of serial killer. Great."

"Agent," I whispered. The way she rambled on nervously was cute. It hurt to talk, but I couldn't have her thinking I were some sort of monster.

"What?" she looked at me surprised. "Did you just say you're an agent?"

I nodded.

"Oh! That's…. You really shouldn't try to talk you know. It's just going to make it hurt worse."

I wondered why that made her blush, but she was right. These tubes were making it hurt like hell. My eyes followed her as she did her work. She changed a bag on my IV, checked my bandages, messed with the monitor by my bed, and made more notes in the laptop. Finally she sighed, stood next to my bed, and looked down at me.

"I don't know what to do next, since you're my only patient." She reached up and brushed some hair off my forehead. I felt my entire body relax at her touch. She looked at the ground and said quietly, "I'll be honest, I kind of wish I weren't your nurse. I know he picked me personally so he could have more opportunities to try and seduce me or whatever it is he's doing. Believe me, Dr. Newton is an ass. I'd report him, but I'm afraid it will hurt my chances to get into med school." My body tensed at her words. I wanted nothing more than to get up out of this bed, find this doctor, and rip his head from his neck. Still part of me was glad she already felt comfortable enough to share her problems with me. We would work through this together. "I guess it won't be so bad," she continued. "If I have to look at someone all day long, I won't mind looking at you, even after the terrible day you've had." My angel continued to stroke my cheek, and I smiled trying to let her know I felt the same. "You have the most striking green eyes I've ever seen. It's hard to concentrate on my work with you staring like that. I know- what else are you supposed to do? You can't exactly talk or get up or anything. Don't worry. I would normally never say those kinds of things to anyone – especially a patient. I just gave you a really strong dose of morphine though. You're going to be asleep any second now, and I doubt you'll remember any of this."

Silly, silly, girl. There was no way I'd forget anything about her. I'd still be wondering if I were in heaven if every part of my body wasn't screaming with pain. Like my angel said, the pain was fading and so was my consciousness. I took one last long look into her eyes before closing my mind and drifting off to meet her again in my dreams.

A/N: Please review and make my pathetic life worth living. I'm willing to beg and bribe if I have to.