The elevator hummed its way up from the morgue, playing "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" for the second time tonight. The universe, apparently, had a sense of humor about felony resurrection.

I checked my watch. 6:45 AM. Early shift would trickle in soon, which meant navigating a recently-deceased witness through a building full of people trained to notice suspicious behavior. No pressure.

"So," Ethan said, studying his reflection in the elevator's brushed steel walls. "Do all dead people get this kind of VIP treatment, or am I special?"

"You're about to be specially caught if you don't stop looking so..." I waved my hand at his general existence. "Dead-like."

"Dead-like?" He attempted to smooth down his hair, which somehow made it worse. "I'm wearing scrubs. I look like every other exhausted medical professional."

"Medical professionals generally don't have that fresh-from-the-morgue glow. You are as white as a ghost"

“Oh, I see.” Ethan smirked. “Only you get to make the ghost jokes.”

I ignore his quip. “This floor should be empty, we will go to the front of the building and head downstairs to avoid all the lookie-loos.” The elevator slowed. "Third floor. When these doors open, follow my lead and try to look... alive."

"That's hilarious, keep it up. You should do stand-up."

The doors opened to reveal an empty hallway. Small mercies. I stepped out first, scanning for movement. The security camera above the elevator had a short blind spot during its sweep - a detail I'd learned during less felonious late nights at work.

"Now," I whispered, pulling Ethan forward. He stumbled, his feet apparently still figuring out the whole walking thing. The linoleum squeaked under his borrowed shoes as we crept past the break room. Coffee scents wafted out - the good stuff someone splurged on, not the standard issue battery acid.

The sound of heels clicking against linoleum echoed from around the corner. Williams. I'd know that purposeful stride anywhere. Without thinking, I grabbed Ethan's arm and shoved him through the nearest door - right into the men's bathroom. His surprised yelp bounced off the tiles as I followed him in.

"Kay?" Williams's laugh carried through the door. "Did you just push someone into the men's room?"

I closed my eyes, counting to three. When I opened them, Ethan was grinning like this was the best thing that had happened to him since, well, dying.

"Just checking the..." I glanced around the bathroom desperately. "Paper towel levels. Very important. Budget meeting coming up."

"At 6:45 in the morning?" Her voice dripped with amusement. "With company?"

"I'm thorough." I pressed my back against the door, hearing Williams's heels pause outside. "It's why I made detective."

"Uh-huh." The smirk in her voice was practically visible through the door. "Well, don't let me interrupt your... inventory." Her heels resumed their clicking, followed by a laugh that promised this wasn't the last I'd hear about it.

I turned to Ethan, who had propped himself against a sink, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "You're enjoying this way too much for a dead person."

"Hey, if I have to be undead, at least it's entertaining." He straightened up, then promptly slipped on the tile. I caught his arm before he could crack his newly-revived skull. "Though I have to ask - do you usually manhandle all your witnesses into bathrooms, or am I special?"

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Keep talking and I'll manhandle you right back to the morgue."

The men's room door creaked open. I peeked out, half-expecting Williams to be waiting with a camera and a gossip column's worth of questions. The hallway stretched empty except for the ever-watching security cameras.

“Ok,” I began, “I’m going to walk to my right, don’t look left or you will look directly into a security camera,”

Ethan nodded his head. “Where is the next elevator?”

“Stairwell,” I correct him. “No one takes the stairs here. So we go down two floors and we will be right by the front lobby.”

I decided that we needed to move before more people made their way up here. I poke my head out the door, the coast seemed to be clear. “When I leave, count to ten and then just follow me.”

Without hesitation I walked out into the hall and headed to the right. The hall opened into a large room filled with cubicles. This is where I started my career, the Powered Unit. It used to be a gang unit, but decisions were made, and their focus turned to catching and dealing with those with abilities. I glanced around, no one was in sight. No easy catches for them today it seemed.

I started towards the stairwell when I heard the bathroom door open and the shambling steps of my new friend. I looked back, and Ethan was coming towards me, grinning and giving a little wave as he entered the room.

I motion for the stairs and wait for Ethan to catch up. Something about the way he was walking started to worry me. The last thing I need is him falling down the stairs and breaking all his bones. I wasn't sure what would happen to him then, being already dead and all.

Slowly, we make it down the stairs. Ethan surprised me as he made it down with little effort. We reached the first-floor door, and I let out a little sigh—time for phase two of my incredibly terrible plan.

"Okay," I said, turning to Ethan. "The front desk is thirty seconds away. Walk out like you belong here. Like you've done it a thousand times."

"Should I whistle? People who belong places whistle, right?"

"People who belong places shut up and walk normally." I straightened his scrubs and then realized, to my horror, that they were on backward. "I'll create a distraction at the desk. Just keep moving." I said, ignoring the scrubs.

"What kind of distraction?" His grin returned. "More bathroom adventures?"

"Out. Now." I pushed him into the hallway, keeping my movements casual for the cameras. Nothing suspicious here. Just a homicide detective shoving a dead guy toward the exit. Standard Thursday morning.

We rounded the corner to the lobby. Frank, the morning security guard, hunched over his crossword puzzle. The cameras in this section captured every angle - no convenient blind spots to exploit. I'd have to rely on Frank's notorious inability to multitask.

I stepped ahead of Ethan, making sure my badge was visible. "Morning, Frank. Still stuck on seven across?"

"Good morning, Detective Kay." He looked up, pencil tapping against the desk. "It's a five-letter word for 'ghostly'. Been driving me crazy."

"Eerie," Ethan muttered behind me as I winced at the sound of his voice.

"That's it!" Frank scribbled frantically. "Hey, you're pretty good at these-"

"Actually," I cut in, positioning myself to block Frank's view as Ethan shuffled past. "I've got a real stumper from yesterday's puzzle. Nine letters, 'thoroughly investigated'..."

The lobby doors swished open and closed. A quick glance showed Ethan's scrubs disappearing around the corner. I'd done it. I'd actually-

"Morning, Kay."

Marcus's voice froze me mid-celebration. He stood in the doorway, his suit still pristine despite the hour, holding a case file I recognized from his desk.

"That medical intern," he nodded toward where Ethan had vanished. "Friend of yours?"

"Just dropping something off for Dr. Harper." The lie rolled off my tongue with practiced ease. Eight years of hiding powers made deception feel like muscle memory.

"At this hour?"

"You know how it is with the budget cuts. Everyone's pulling double shifts." I glanced at my watch. "Speaking of which, I should head out. Train's running soon and if I miss this one, it'll be another thirty minutes."

"Since when do you take the train?" Marcus's brow furrowed.

"Since my car decided to die on me last week." Another lie, but my Toyota's check engine light had been flashing for months. It was practically pre-emptive honesty.

"I could give you a ride-"

"Thanks, but the station's right on my way." I backed toward the door, waving to Frank. "Good luck with that crossword."

The morning air hit my face as I pushed through the doors. Ethan waited across the street, partially hidden behind a newspaper stand. His morgue-pale skin stood out even in the grey morning light.

I had successfully smuggled the undead out of a police station. They definitely hadn't covered this scenario at the academy.