She feels his presence before she's even fully registered who he is. At that moment, she finds she doesn't much care who is in her bed next to her, only that there shouldn't be anyone. After all, she'd gone to bed alone, and now there was a hand around her waist and a soft breathing beside her.

She scrambles, trying desperately to put some distance between her and her intruder, thinking only of putting as much distance between them that she can. "Too early, Katie." He mumbles, a strong hand pulling her back towards the bed. "Sleep."

He pulls tighter against her attempts to escape, knowing only pure terror until-

"Shit! Kate!" He pulls back, one hand clutching at his ribs while the other peers incredulously at her. "What was that for?"

"Dutchy? What are you doing in my bed?!" Their frantic cries rise over each other, Kate backing away while he disentangles himself from her sheets.

"Kate, are you okay?" Dutchy stands, and Kate finds herself avoiding staring at his chest.

"No!" Kate takes another step backwards and feels her back hit the wall. "I just woke up to find my bosun in my bed! I am not okay."

Dutchy's brow furrows, and he takes a step closer, one hand outstretched as though intending to hug her. She recoils, flattening herself against the wall. "Kate, I haven't been your bosun for five years."

She shakes her head, fumbling blindly for a t-shirt and pulling it over her singlet, hoping to fight some of the vulnerability and exposure she's feeling. "You just started, Dutchy. What are you doing here? Seriously, if this is some prank you're playing with 2Dads-"

"Funny. I was going to say the same thing to you." He peers at her curiously. "So… you don't remember…"

"Remember what?! I think I'd remember asking you to move in with me!" Some of the fear is leaving her now, to be filled only with anger. How dare he invade the sanctity of her home, her bed and- if he'd taken advantage of her...

Unconsciously, her hands rise to wrap around her torso, nearly hugging herself. Dutchy moves to take another step closer, but at the last minute seems to think better of that decision, holding up his hands in some parody of surrender. "You don't remember... Henry?" Dutchy finishes tentatively.

"Who's Henry? Dutchy, what the hell is going on? You need to leave! Now! You need to-"

Dutchy hesitates for a moment, then asks, "What's the date today?"

"What?" She shakes her head at the absurd question. "What the hell-"

"Humour me. Kate, what's the date?"

"29th April."

His face is impassive. "And the year?"

"2010. Seriously, Dutchy. I- what!?"

"Kate…" He takes a deep breath, and she can't bear to see the look of fear and confusion mirrored on his own face. "That was almost nine years ago."