Annie hadn't made it to the party last night, because a lot of yesterday had involved some "ohmygodwhatdidIdo?!" type of flailing. So she'd gone to sleep early in her own bed, thinking maybe today she could wake up and everything would just reset itself
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Sigh, Rebecca.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, he was now being awoken by what sounded like nails on chalkboard times a million.
He jerked violently upright. "Rebecca!" he said. "What the fuck?!"
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There was actually a little very serious worry for the girl who'd had a total nervous breakdown once, which really only enforced the time machine-coveting.
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Thank you, Peter.
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She went to brush some hair out of her face, and it was then that she caught sight of her hand. A hand which was definitely not its normal skin tone. At least it stopped all the italics.
"Oh god," she said, feeling something sink in the pit of her stomach. "Oh god, oh god."
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Beat.
"I should stop by the clinic."
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Though she was still looking at her hand like maybe she didn't even believe that right now.
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He frowned, squinting at her. "Are you fucking with me?" he said finally. (If it was Rebecca, she'd probably make the pun.)
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Or Rebecca putting on a really over-the-top joke. "Well, this is not how I expected to wake up," he said succinctly, collapsing back on the bed.
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"This isn't how YOU expected to wake up?"
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... well, she'd probably care about what Rebecca might do with hers, come to think.
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This was why it was a good thing Peter didn't feel inclined to date anyone.
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No way was she attempting clothes or a mirror when she would have to abandon her current cover positioning.
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Peter held his arms up to defend himself from... the onslaught of girl. "Calm down!"
... He was so glad he was still in his proper body. "Look, what room are you in? I can check up on Rebecca and make sure she doesn't do anything untoward."
Or force her to come do radio with him in penance. He really didn't want to deal with Topher right now, thank you.
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"330. Just down the hall. Please don't let her break Jack's brain."
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