we make love to some weird sin``OPEN

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

This supply closet was the escape for many nurses and staff of the asylum. The room was full of shelves of old and new drugs, some over-stocked, some concoctions of the more 'experimental' doctors, some banned by the FDIC nearly twenty years ago. The lights were dim here, only the glow from the self-lit glass cabinets allowed visibility. Sheila's stubby heels clicked on the tile below her as she read through all of the bottles, starting from the beginning of the far left isle. This was her way of relaxing and a way to get away from the staff to smoke a long menthol cigarette. Her red lips held the slim in her mouth, the white paper contrasting beautifully with the full, deadly color of her mouth. Her blonde waves were pulled up into a retro 1950's curl, her nurses uniform starched white and form fitting. Most doctors and nurses stuck to scrubs, but that wasn't how Sheila was. Sheila was so determined not to wear such horrid clothing that she found a loop-hole in the handbook and took it to her supervisor, who in turn gave her permission and called her a tramp. Sheila raised a perfectly arched eyebrow as she thought back to the older, bitter woman. Jealousy is ugly on every skin tone.

Sheila's blue pools caught on a dusty bottle of chloroform on the top on the end shelf. Holding her cigarette with her right hand, she grabbed the bottle with her left, blowing the dust from the label. As a nurse, she knew as much as she was allowed to know about this place and she had witnessed things that could get this place shut down in a heartbeat. She never found it to be her place, however. As long as she got paid, she didn't care what she and to keep quiet about.

It was now five in the evening and most the patients were at dinner. It was quiet in the hallways outside, and even more peaceful in the confound space of the supply closet. As she finished her cigarette, she heard the door click, instantly pocketing the chloroform and turning around innocently enough.

"Hello?" Her thick Vermont accent loomed through the bottles and metal shelves.

[/size]

[Andrew James Ferris]

Andrew walked down the dim, empty corridor, unbuttoning his lab coat. For lack of better dressing skills, he wore a flannel and straight sup black jeans, looking more like a college kid than a doctor. He pulled a hand up to ruffle his hair.

Andrew took out his small flask, which had been concealed in his chest pocket. He opened the door to the supply closet, hoping to get a moment to feed his addiction. His mind was surging after going so long without using his power. It was driving him crazy. He hadn't had anyone one on one sessions with the patients to practice his 'skill.'

As the door swung open, Andrew jumped a little, fumbling with the flask. "Jesus, Ms. Bradel! You scared the hell out of me." He tried to conceal the flask, then took a stern voice, hoping to play his own folly off. "You-uh, what are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be working?" He cleared his throat a little, then leaned back against the now closed door.

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

A smile formed on Sheila's perfectly pump lips at the sight of the man in the supply closet. Dr. Ferris was a special case and he was known for his odd behavior and seemingly macabre personality. She hadn't worked personally with him yet, which she thought was a good thing. The doctor's she worked with were normally older men, engulfed in their lust from years without desirable partners. It was these old crooks who kept her job. She'd simply lean over a table too far, bend down too slow, or speak in a whisper and she had them at her mercy. Sheila never attended the experiments because of this and spent most of her time painting her nails or smoking in the supply rooms.

Sheila stepped closer to him, trying to keep her hand out of the pocket that held the chloroform. "Mister Ferris, shouldn't I ask you the same question?" Sheila's unique farm-grown voice lingered high above the both of them, her words meaningless.

"My patients are at dinner, and I had a big lunch, so i'm not really hungry." Sheila defended herself further, hoping he'd leave soon, or at least keep her secret. A white hand tipped with red nails scratched at the back of her neck and then at her collarbone, the starched dress getting itchier as the day went on.

[/size]

[Andrew James Ferris]

Andrew stared at her a moment, realizing their situation. "Well, I won't tell if you won't tell." He pulled his flask out, throwing her a wink. He unscrewed the bottle, smelling the thick liquid. His mouth began to water, and a smile erupted over his face. He knew it would be just enough to smother the pain brewing in his mind.

He took a swig of the coarse liquid, as it burned down his throat. He let out a sigh of relief, then looked back at Sheila. "I don't blame you, Ms. Bradel. I came here to escape my patients. It seems like they're getting quite unruly as of late." Andrew looked to her, her bright eyes catching his own brown pools.

She was surprisingly attractive, in a way Andrew had never noticed. Maybe it was the lack of formality as they both hunkered down in the supply closet that brought it out. Or maybe it was that he'd always been too busy to notice. Either way, he noticed now, and he liked what he saw.

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila's eyes were fixed on the shaggy-haired male as he tossed back his flask and began to speak again. If she had been a decent person, she would've reported him, but she couldn't give two shits about the doctors here. All she knew was she got paid to hold needles in place, pop pills into crazed men and women and say a few encouraging words every now and again. She walked closer to him now, ready for conversation. There was an old desk by the shelves that held an out-dated computer and a few empty journals. She sat on the edge of it, her slender legs wrapping themselves over each other.

"It's a full moon next week, usually everyone gets a bit more," She paused for a moment, realizing how odd her next word would sound, then realizing who she was actually talking to, "Animalistic" She gave a low grunted chuckle and looked down at her white knee caps, seeing small discolored specks of skin.

"What's in the flask? You look like a Jack or Bourbon guy to me. I myself love whiskey. The spice and fire that comes with it is really worth the headache in the morning." Again, her soft laughter filled the sterile air between them.

Sheila took a deep breath, her eyes closing as she determined the air around her. It was funny how after a year or working here she had only just now noticed the faint smell of burnt flesh mixed with the bleached tile floors and the alcohol-drenched tools. A slight frown formed on her face as she let out carbon dioxide. She really hated this fucking place.

[/size]

[Andrew James Ferris]

Andrew thought about her choice of words, a smirk plastering to his face. "Yeah, I can agree. A full moon always warrants rebellion. Although, it's not always a bad thing." He chuckled, looking up through his thick lashes. He took his time looking at her, hoping it went unnoticed.

Another rush of the warm liquid, and Andrew was set. He screwed the cap back on, ready to put it away. That was, until she inquired. "Good guess. It's whiskey. Just cheap knock off, it's enough to kill the headache that comes with this place." He put a hand to his hair, ruffling it again. "Would you like some?" He held it out for her, a grin on his face.

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila grinned wide at the continuing conversation. She loved talking to people about nearly anything, and in the confides of this supply closet, she felt more could be said than outside.
"I would love some, thank you." Her ivory, red-tipped hands slid themselves around the bottom of the flask, grabbing it softly from his palm. She gave the flask a look over and held it to her lips.
"Cheers." She murmured, tilting the metal canteen up, allowing the spiced, brow liquid slide down her throat, catching fire to the walls of her esophagus. A small breath left her lips as she handed it back, a cheeky grin crinkling her porcelain face.

"So, Doctor Ferris, I hear you have become sort of an- expert- with your patients. Word around here is that you can get them to expose more to you than other doctors." Her words were simply conversational pieces, but she wanted to know what was so menacing and dangerous about such a simple looking man. He couldn't have been three years her elder, and yet he was a doctor and had a reputation among this asylum. Not the best of reps, but then again, everyone here was fucked anyway.

Sheila brushed a small blonde curl behind her ear as she waited on his response, carefully planning her next bit. She thought back to her times on the street, where she developed her conversation skills. As a scared teenager in a dark business, she knew how to keep the men from hurting her too bad, some even gave her the money without the commitment of her end of the deal. Talking to the fucks and low-lives that came to her corner was the only way she kept her sanity, and she would always praise that it saved her life countless times.
A mild sting bolted through her mid section and lower half, causing her to bit her lip in discomfort. Memories hurt her more than any one soul could.

[/size]

[Andrew James Ferris]

Andrew watched her drink, a smile forming on his face. She could take it, that was for sure. "It's not often you find a girl with a strong taste." He smiled politely, listening to her. She was a very intelligent girl. And something about that cautioned him not to say too much. Something about her words hinted danger, and he couldn't let himself be backed into a corner just because of a skirt.

With a small chuckle, he grinned up at her. "I suppose you could say that. My father taught me as a young boy to be a good doctor. Everything I know, I learned from him. He was the best in the north east in his time." Andrew grinned thoughtfully. His father had been his only saving grace in his childhood. His father saved him from the women of the house, and taught him how to work the system to his advantage.

Sadly, his father had never learned of his ability. That was the one thing Andrew regretted, never telling his father. After all, that;s what freed him of his mother at last, and what drove his sister far away. Andrew was afraid his father wouldn't let him practice his trade, and that was the only thing that really made him happy. With a sigh, Andrew grimaced.

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila's head tilted to the right as she listened to his distant voice. He seemed more in a memory than he did in the conversation, but she didn't call him out on it, not now at least. A small shiver ran down her spine as she thought back to her father. A real politician. Shelia was too young to understand why daddy had two families, why mommy would sleep for two days and why her brothers and sister hated everything.

"Your father sounds like a good man. I'm sure he's proud of your accomplishments. Most men your age still live at home and don't know what the term hygiene means." Sheila gave him a reassuring grin as she kicked off her shoes, letting them crash to the floor below. Now, she was simply her normal 5'4, which was considerably short.

Sheila stood and walked closer to him, this time leaning on the floor to ceiling cabinet beside him.

"Do your patients have special....talents...?" She wondered if he had noticed the things she did. She'd been toyed with, lit on fire, etc. The patients here were powerful, and she knew that's why experiments were so dangerous.

Her hands fumbled with the nurses hat pinned to her head. She took out the metal pins, letting her curls fall freely to her shoulders. "These blasted things hurt after a while." She said, frowning as she held a bobby pin up to him.

[/size]

[Andrew James Ferris]

Andrew grinned at her. She was insightful. "Yeah, dad raised me well. I don't talk to him much. I haven't seen my family in about 3 years. They're still in Michigan, but I send a letter every holiday. Still haven't heard back." He looked down, a small frown on his face. He wasn't brave enough to face his mother, who was now living back with his father. Although, the last time he spoke to his father, he was ill.

Coming back to the present, Andrew looked to Sheila. "I'm fairly motivated. I didn't want to end up as miserable as my mother so sister. So I've worked hard since I was 12." He was trying to be modest, but he was surprisingly proud of his life. "What about you? What motivates you? I hear you're a pretty well off nurse."

"As for the patients, yes. I've come across some crazy things. I've even had one of them get in my head, mess with my emotions. One even lit me on fire." He chuckled, though his laughter was short lived. he knew what it was like to be on the other side of that. To be in pain from constant urges, and to try to control himself. He had to work even harder than the patients to conceal his skill.

Andrew grinned down at Sheila, taking the metal pin. "This looks more like a torture weapon than an accessory. You nurses have so much more to uphold than us doctors. We show up in a lab coat, and bark orders at others." He laughed, then took a seat on a stack of boxes just feet from her. He handed the pin back gingerly.

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila gave him an arched brow and bit her lip. She was glad she wasn't the only one that knew of the crazy shit that went on behind the walls of this place.
Sheila took his question from earlier into consideration. She could lie and tell him how much she loved helping people and give them the whole Miss America winning speech, but something told her he would see through her lie.

"It pays well and this outfit makes me feel sexy." She winked at him and gave a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood of her otherwise pretentious and blunt reasoning.

"I'm well off because I don't take their bullshit, and eventually, they start to understand that and they stop fighting. Plus you have no idea how far sex appeal can go as far as treatment. Sometimes people just need a little friction to really wake up." Sheila was always open about sex. She had to be. Spending four years of her life on a street corner really made her open up to the instinctive sexual pull everyone had. She didn't view it as perverse or disgusting, just as a simple fact of life.

"Not only nurses, but women in general. When was the last time you used a eyelash curler? Those could kill an army." She grabbed the pin from him put it in her teeth, chewing on it in a bored fashion.

"I wonder if they are missing us yet." Sheila winked at him, sliding down the cabinet, her skirt lifting slightly as she took a seat on the cool tile. What a wonderful day to wear red sparkling underwear.

[/size]

[Andrew James Ferris]

Andrew's dark eyes watched her, the way her mouth moved when she spoke. The way her hands moved, and her brilliant eyes that moved about the room with wonder. She was a fine specimen.

"I like your view point. I believe in the cause. We all need a little bit of one on one to rid of those... animalistic feelings. It's nature's way of stress release." He smirked, scratching his head. The thoughts of himself tangled with Sheila plagued his mind, and he tried to dodge them.

With a shake of his head, Andrew looked down at Sheila, smiling politely. "Eyelash curler? It sounds dangerous." He chuckled, imagining the massacre. "Oh, I doubt it. It's been a slow day anyways, and we could use a break."

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Andrew's slow and deep voice made Sheila's ears perk up, almost forcing her to listen to every word he spoke. She found herself wanting to know his sentences and thoughts. The brown-eyed, disheveled man seemed to have a pull about him that Sheila hadn't felt in a long time.
When he spoke the word 'animalistic', she felt as if he was testing the waters between just meeting and friends. Sheila enjoyed this jump.

"Ah, that's why I never have headaches." She gave him a cheeky grin and a wink, letting the truth sound like a small joke. Even though Sheila had been 'unemployed' as a street walker for a few years, she still indulged the same, though she was more careful and had a say in who she wanted. Sheila knew her levels of attraction and she knew what men wanted, and what all she could give them. Not many men were off limits to her, but she always kept a close eye out for the perfect prize.

Snapping back to her conversation, she gave him a smirk.
"Tomorrow I work all night, which will be hell. For some reason everyone gets crazier when the sun goes down." She wasn't sure why she told him her schedule for the next day. Her hands clasped each other behind her neck, her elbows forcing down as she stiffened her neck to stretch out the muscles and pop her back. When it cracked she let out a low moan, completely unconsciously. After she rolled her blonde head around, she gazed up at the doctor, looking for some sort of fire behind his chocolate doe eyes.

[/size]

[Andrew James Ferris]

"If you didn't have a headache before, good luck tomorrow night. Nights are the worst. Although, I'm scheduled the same. Luckily I'm only on-call, so I'll be able to hang out a little." Andrew grinned, somehow excited about being scheduled together. He scooted a little closer to her.

He watched as she stretched, but was unprepared for the noise that escaped her mouth. It was like a strangled moan, Andrew's favorite noise. He shivered a little, his back arching. "Oh... uh, are you tight? I know you nurses are usually on your feet a lot, and those heels can really screw up your back alignment."

Andrew got down of the box, walking to stand behind Sheila. "Do you mind? I uh, I've heard I give pretty good massages." His hands hovered above her shoulders, and he could feel the heat coming from her. From there, he could see each breath she took, and could almost see in her shirt.

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila flashed him a smile and nodded, allowing him to work his magic. He was right as for as the tightness she felt in her neck and shoulders. Most nurses wore comfortable shoes, but not Sheila. If it wasn't heels, it wasn't professional or sexy. Of course, neither were her bruised feet, but most men wanted her to leave her white heels on anyway.

"Let's see how well you can work those fingers, Dr. Ferris!" Sheila's words were innocent enough, but somehow she knew how he'd take it. She noticed his shake and stir when she popped her back, it was hard to fight the seductive smile.

"Dr. Ferris, tell me, how well do your women patients open up to you?" Sheila was curious about how well he was with women, and if he could make these crazy bitch's panties drop, he must be saying something right. Sheila felt a familiar ache in her lower back.

[/size]