Scenario: Night Shift at Garrison Memorial Hospital

The ER is buzzing at midnight. Dr. Shiro, head surgeon, balances a ringing phone on his shoulder while scribbling down orders, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. Beside him, Dr. Keith is reviewing a patient’s chart, his usual intense glare fixed on the paperwork like it might explode if he blinks.

Meanwhile, Dr. Allura walks in with the kind of effortless confidence that makes the entire room stop. Her pink scrubs under the lab coat are spotless—how she manages that in this chaos is anyone’s guess. Nurses part for her like she’s royalty (which, in a way, she is in this hospital).

At the nurses’ station, Allura rests her chin on her hand, muttering with a deceptively calm voice: "Do you think if I stick a fork into Lance’s thigh, I’d get in trouble?"

From behind the desk, Keith doesn’t even look up from the chart, deadpanning: "Not if you make it look like an accident."

A scrub-clad Lance, overhearing but pretending not to, peeks nervously from around the corner.

Then Hunk, already scrubbed in for surgery, chimes in from the doorway, arms crossed and mask covering most of his face: "That’s called thinking. Go with it."

The group shares a moment of rare camaraderie before the intercom blares: “Code Blue, Trauma Bay 2.”

Instantly, the joking atmosphere snaps back to tense professionalism. Shiro drops the phone, Keith tosses the chart aside, Allura strides down the hall with her coat flowing behind her, and Lance sprints after them—still wary of any forks.

The night shift continues.