Why in the hell had she been talked into working so late?! Danielle Ilya Hotailing walked down the hallway of the empty building grumbling under her breath about fucking Brits and their pretty accents and how she'd love to shove a brick down their throats. Dani, as she was affectionately called, was born and raised an American drawn here by a few factors: healthcare, lower taxes, and the relatively cute guys with that accent that was to die for. She was a sucker for them, but then again, what right hot blooded female wasn't a sucker for a sexy accent? I mean honestly, how else had actors gotten so famous if they couldn't change their accents? She was lost in her random thoughts, which she did a lot when she thought she saw something in the hall and she stopped. "Ello?" She called out curiously pushing up a pair of red glasses up her nose. Without them she couldn't see three inches away from her face without her contacts, and they were such a bugger to get in her eyes that she didn't bother with them half the time. Who, besides herself for time and a half, would be stupid enough to stay in this building for longer than she absolutely had to? Well besides the night guard of course but he should have left....she checked her clock that glowed in the dark. More than ten minutes ago. It was then she had the sense that she could perhaps be in very real trouble. She wasn't one to ignore those gut feelings, after all it's what had told her to move an ocean away from her family and friends, and so continued to walk down the hall warily looking around herself every so often not willing to be a victim but wasn't sure what else she could be in this situation.