[The journal records a soft groan, the kind you get after a good night's sleep. Eight hours. He was lucky this time. Too lucky, even. His phone hadn't gone off to wake him up, so his body had. The new silk sheets were definitely treating him-- wait. He had flannel sheets, last time he checked. He was going to change them because the weather was
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Comments 139
... you're not asleep, by the way.
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Show yourself! I have a weapon!
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NCIS.
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... You talk in boxes...?
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Where am I, exactly?
[This is like a reality show gone really really wrong.]
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