Back in the old stomping grounds
The first sensation of which Nora was aware when she woke up was pain. Her head was pounding, especially behind her eyes; it felt as though a midget with a hammer had taken up residence in the sockets. And oh, dear lord, the nausea. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in, praying that she wouldn't throw up. The room felt like it was spinning.
What the hell had happened? She hadn't felt this sick for a good ten years, at least...maybe it was a replicator screw-up. She groaned and reached a leaden hand to push a few strands of hair out of her eyes when she froze. Dark hair, not medium brown. And that hand wasn't inert, as it had been the past few days. The sensitivity was back.
As, so it seemed, was she. Which brought to mind the question of what the hell had John done last night? Nora had never been drunk, but based on a few friends' accounts during her Academy days, she was starting to recognize that this wasn't exactly a stomach virus. And that meant she was going to do some very unpleasant things to John Hart when she saw him next...as soon, that is, as she could move her head without hurting it.
Staying in bed a bit longer seemed like a good plan.
What the hell had happened? She hadn't felt this sick for a good ten years, at least...maybe it was a replicator screw-up. She groaned and reached a leaden hand to push a few strands of hair out of her eyes when she froze. Dark hair, not medium brown. And that hand wasn't inert, as it had been the past few days. The sensitivity was back.
As, so it seemed, was she. Which brought to mind the question of what the hell had John done last night? Nora had never been drunk, but based on a few friends' accounts during her Academy days, she was starting to recognize that this wasn't exactly a stomach virus. And that meant she was going to do some very unpleasant things to John Hart when she saw him next...as soon, that is, as she could move her head without hurting it.
Staying in bed a bit longer seemed like a good plan.