Disclaimer: No, I don't own it, or them, or her. But imagine the shock she'd get if she turned around and saw who I'd want this person to be... *evil grin* but that would mean writing a cross over, and I don't have the patience for that...

Author's Note: This is a little darker than my usual stuff, but that's what happens if I don't get enough sleep and am trying to read Shakespeare, my mind allows me to see how twisted it can really be. I might continue it, but I'm not sure. Feel free to imagine whoever takes your fancy if I don't.

Dedications: to anyone else who has ever woken up and wondered what the hell had the night/day before. Especially if they've regretted what happened once they'd managed to find out.


She wakes to the sight of her sheets, rumpled from the night before.

Sound of breathing next to her.

Feel of bare skin against her bare back, entwined with her legs, draped over her ribs.

Stale taste of last night's wine.

And the smell… Strong. Sharp.

The smell of sex.

Memories refuse to surface. Panic rises instead. She fights against it, tries to recall when her memories stop; when the blank space sets in.

Neelix's party. Real alcohol. It never reacts well with her. She should know that by now.

She can remember leaving the Holodeck, with… someone. Side by side on the walk to her quarters… Someone… tall…

Standing on tiptoes for a kiss…

Heavy… Pushing them against the wall of her quarters-

Strong… being carried into the bedroom-

Pinned against the mattress.

Last night, she didn't want the kisses to stop. Last night, she wanted to forget the pain, the loneliness.

This morning she can't even remember last night. This morning she doesn't even know whose breath is caressing the back of her neck…

Whose arm is holding her to them…

Which of her crew she let into her bed.

How could she- the captain- let this happen?


Thanks for reading :)