"You're still here… and you're making pancakes?"

Pinterest Prompt

I startle awake at the first blaring ring from the hotel phone, surprised because I'm usually up before my they call with my daily wake up check. It takes a few seconds to hit but when I jolt forward to snatch up the phone, my head slams into a wall of pain and my stomach ties itself into knots that a boy scout would envy. Oh shit… what the hell did I drink last night…

After a few more shrill whines from the phone I picked it up and I'm pretty I got the basic idea that I was awake across with only a few curse words. I think they were starting to say something, probably something stupid like, "Thank you and have a great day" in their annoying fake-happy tone. The phone didn't quite make it back to the bedside table, instead ending up somewhere on the floor, but it's specific location wasn't known because of the pillow pressed firmly around my messy halo of hair.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. When did I even think drinking was okay? When have I ever been that drunk before! I groaned out load as a wave of pain rippled though me. Wow. Way to be real tough there Shego. A couple drinks and you cant even move. But I knew that couldn't be right. I mean, I could barely even get drunk for more than a few minutes usually because of the damn comet energy burning all the alcohol out from my blood before I could even feel it.

I must have drained the whole damn bar… That's when I remember the special hang over formula I'd cracked a few months ago, though I thought I'd just be selling it and not testing it. It's really just a combination of a few over the counter medications and surprisingly, a little vodka to deliver it. And vodka would never be something in short supply around my suite.

I took a steadying breath and lifted myself from the bed without opening my eyes. I know the curtains were never closed and I don't really want to have the sun assault my already aching head. Blindly I stumble to the dresser and fumble around a few drawers till my hand closes around a familiar little bottle. I pull it up to my chest and thrust a hand out in front of me in a halfhearted attempt to shield myself from any up coming walls before I reach the bathroom.

When I slip though the sliding bathroom doors I turn off the automatic lights and flip a switch to bring the tint in the windows up till the brightness over my eyelids doesn't seem so threatening. I open one eye just a sliver to test the waters and, finding that I will probably survive it, open both my eyes. Well it's dark enough that the light won't bother my eyes but now all the pills in the medicine cabinet look the same. I light a small green plasma flame on the end of one finger and let it burn while I used the light to pluck the necessary drugs and pill crusher.

With deft hands I work though the formula while I try to push past the foggy cloud in my brain to remember what happened last night. It wasn't until I took a shot of the mixture that the overcast weather in my brain cleared up and a gasp of shock tore though my mouth.

Ohhhh no… That has to be some drunken dream… I didn't… I couldn't have… I shakily walk to the door and pull it open to have my fears confirmed by the shape of human hands burned into the framework of my bed. I look in the mirror and see my hair extremely ruffled and I immediately identify the "sex hair" look. It wasn't a big del that I'd had sex last night, though I usually didn't have to make a tonic to be able to remember who it was with, and oh how I wish I could have never remembered.

How in the hell did I just sleep with my archenemy?

After the initial panic and splashing some cold water over my face, I decided that nothing could be done about it right now. Maybe I she was too drunk to remember. How did she get out of here anyways? Did she call a taxi after I fell asleep? I guess I can just hit her till she forgets at our next battle; if I ever get to see her again.

Whoa, did I just sound like I wanted her to barge in and ruin my day? Jesus, I need some coffee. I shake my head to clear that confusing thought form my brain. Glad my head ache is gone, I put my phone on the speaker dock and set it to my "Shower" playlist while I wait for the shower's water to heat up. As the first notes of Radioactive by Imagine Dragons plays, I look up into the mirror gasp aloud for the third time that morning.

I wasn't surprised that I was naked; I already had accepted that id had sex and I usually slept in the nude anyways, but the dark angry patches of deep green (would be a purple on someone without my… "special" complexion) that popped up every few inches across my torso were absolutely new. My jaw just hung open while my wide eyes scanned my new additions. There seemed to be about an equal amount of love bites as there were hickies, even a few fingerprints on my arms and hips. I turn to inspect more of my torso and when I get a glimpse of my back and I'm sure that I'll have to pick my jaw up off the floor.

Although it wasn't subjected to the same number of love bites and hickies as the front of me was, it was covered in long, semi-healed scratches and a few dozen crescent shaped marks from nails. Who would have thought…

I banish the thought before my mind can really comprehend exactly what went on last night. I don't even need to know this right now. I can think about this later.

I realize how long I'd just been staring at the marks when the mirror fogs up too much for me to see anymore. I skip a few songs and set it on shuffle before I step into the boiling stream of water. I had the water tank readjusted a few months ago so that the water would be warm enough for me to really enjoy it.

Initially, I flinched when the spray hit the half healed marks and bruises but the pain began to ebb away as my body absorbed the heat and used it to restore my skin. I took my time in washing my hair, glad to wash all the remnants of the last night away. As the "Flightless Bird, American Mouth" came to an end, "King and Lionheart" began and I let myself get carried away by melody.

"Howling Ghosts, they reappear," I close my eyes and bury the obvious mistake I made behind the song, "in mountains that are stacked with fear." I sing the rest of the song, enjoying the soft lyrics before I feel the hot water start to run out. I step out quickly, not wanting to catch the cooler water and pull a towel from the closet. After I wrap it around myself I shake my hair out before half drying it with a little plasma glow from the hand that isn't keeping the towel up.

I pull my phone off the dock but keep humming the "Island in the Sun" after its been cut off. I made sure I clean off any left over make up that I didn't get in the shower. I then remember that I hadn't started any coffee that morning so I head toward the kitchen so I can let it brew while I get ready for the day.

When I turned the corner to go into the kitchen, I got the surprise of my life, like last night wasn't enough. My brain went into overdrive trying to process what I was seeing before it short-circuited and I just stared in shock at the fiery haired girl, who's outline was scorched into my sheets now, flitting around my kitchen.