A/N - Tonight, DoUTrustme (author of Died and Gone to Heaven) and I will be posting a very strange collab to our joint account, DoUFlanMe. Here's a tease. If it looks like something you'll dig, please add it to your alerts :) Make sure to alert it on the DoUFlanme account, as that's where we'll be updating. We're estimating ten or so chapters. Happy Halloween!

Isabella Swan wasn't my typical 4 am pick-up. First of all, she wasn't dead. Being a mortician, this was uncharted territory for me. Don't get me wrong, her skin was so pale I had to look twice to be certain, but she was upright, leaning against the door frame and breathing. Dead people typically didn't do that.

"Uh, hi?" I greeted her, scratching my nose. "Isabella Swan?"

"Yeah-huh," she slurred, taking in my formal attire. I usually didn't wear my black suit for pick-ups, but I had to meet with another family in a couple of hours at the funeral home, and I didn't have time to change before then.

"Are you sure?" There had to be a mistake. My work order clearly indicated she was deceased. I checked it again.

"Pretty sure," she said, but just barely. She was bleary-eyed and her lower lip hung open, jutting out to the side in a lopsided pout. There was a little bit of drool sliding down the corner of her mouth. It was oddly adorable.

"Isabella Swan is your name?" I repeated with apparent confusion.

"Yes, I'm Bella." She glanced at her chest as if searching for a name tag to confirm her identity, and my eyes followed. Holy shizzlesticks! I was trying not to stare, but I couldn't help but notice her, um, breasts. The neckline of her t-shirt was quite provocative and her bosom was more than ample.

"You're dead," I told her, because obviously she didn't have the same information as I did. Work orders never lied. We were very fastidious at Cullen and Sons Funeral Services. "It says so right here." I indicated the official form in my hands.

"I'm dead?" She didn't seem surprised by my proclamation. "That's weird." She looked down at her body and then back up to me, her brown eyes locking with mine.

"Yeah, well... apparently you died a couple of hours ago. I was called to come pick-up your body." And what a body it was. Apart from her breasts, which were hard to miss, she had the longest legs I'd ever seen on a human.

"Okay... so are you going to pick me up?"

"Er- well..." I tucked the form away in my breast pocket.

"I mean, I probably shouldn't be walking, right, being dead and all?"

She had a point. Also, she looked like she was about to fall over anyway. "I guess not," I agreed lamely.

"Okay. Um, maybe I should lay down," she giggled and hiccupped. She smelled like alcohol.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, grabbing her arm to steady her as she wobbled. She drew in a quick breath and her knees buckled. I had to catch her before she hit the peeling linoleum. It looked like I wasn't going to need the stretcher. Most corpses weren't this malleable.

"Just great. Didn't feel a thing."

"Death is the most natural thing in the world," I said sagely, lifting her into my arms. There's a chance I was panicking so my training kicked it in, and I started quoting trite phrases from bereavement pamphlets. I just about asked her if she wanted to buy into our layaway plan, but refrained. It was probably too late for that.

"Not like the last time. Last time it really hurt."

"You've been dead before?" I asked, curiously.

"Just the one time."

I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. I mean, I was a little unsure of proper social etiquette in this kind of circumstance. "Maybe it gets easier with practice."