Just a little fic of what could have happened if Fletch and Jac had actually gotten to go for that drink. So it pretty much ignores the rest of the episode and changed a Tuesday to a Friday for creative purposes :)
The Morning After
She's conscious but she physically cannot force her eyelids to open. They're so heavy and she's so tired. Her head hurts and her mouth is dry. She tries opening just one eye and is almost blinded by the light from her bedside table alarm clock. The little red digits causing her to close her eye again. She waits a few minutes then tries again. 08:05 it reads. Her eyes close. She feels a familiar nauseous gush course through her stomach. Knows instantly this a hangover. A bad one.
She groans into the pillow and is very glad it's Saturday. She has no intention of moving from her bed. She tries to move her head a bit to find a cooler spot on the pillow the slight move causes another wave of nausea to hit her. She does not feel good. She's never drinking again.
She decides to give in to the feel of her heavy eyelids.
She's semi conscious again and her head is still pounding. A quick glance at the clock tells her it's still only early. The little digits now reading 09:12. She groans. Still feels sick. Spots a unopened bottle of water on her side table. Thank god! She reaches out a hand to grasp it and the sudden move causes the room to spin, she holds still waits for it to pass. Her head thumps harder. She tries again moving slower this time. She struggles to open the cap. Her body feels weak. She has to divert all her energy into simply twisting the cap off. She downs practically the entire bottle in one go. Takes a few heavy breaths and then finishes it off. She feels exhausted again, the small activity had sapped every last bit of energy. She throws the now empty bottle to the floor and collapses back onto her pillow. Her eyelids start to feel heavy again and she gives into the desire to sleep. Her eyes start to close.
"Oh god kill me now." His voice is low and filled with pain.
Her eyes fly open with shock. She's not alone in her bed. She knows the voice instantly, her heart races and she feels panic rising up through her body. She searches her brain for last nights memories but comes up empty. She doesn't remember getting home.
A quick check under the covers and she sees she's still fully clothed. Her previous panic fades quickly. She's in bed with last nights jeans and top still on. In fact, she thinks she's still wearing her shoes. She kicks a leg out the side of the duvet to check. She groans when she sees her familiar black heels on her foot. She puts one foot behind the other and kicks the shoe off. It lands on the floor with a thud. She repeats the action with her other leg and another thud fills the room.
She hears him laugh but it turns into a groan.
"Did you just take your shoes off?" He asks her, his voice rough scratchy and deeper than usual but she can still detect a hint of amusement.
She rolls over to face him. The action causing a massive wave of nausea.
"Ugh." She grimaces. Closes her eyes and waits for it to pass.
When she finally feels it's safe to open her eyes again she sees him laying on top of the covers fully clothed, jacket included.
She laughs, but like him it hurts and her laughter turns into a groan instead.
"Says the man still wearing his jacket." She finally answers him but she doesn't recognize her own voice it's hoarse and strained.
He doesn't open his eyes but his hands move from his sides to his chest and he pats himself. His eyebrows raise in surprise when he finds his jacket beneath his fingers.
She can't help but smile a little despite her pain.
He pops open the buttons of his jacket then rolls to the right so he can maneuver one arm out, he repeats the action by rolling towards her and pulling his other arm free. He then pulls the jacket out from underneath himself and throws it on the floor. He moves back to his previous position.
"Ugh." He moans quietly. Clearly suffering from the same nausea she is.
Her eyelids are feeling heavy again. She doesn't fight it.
When she wakes again he is the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes. He looks asleep so she feels no reason to stop looking at him. He looks peaceful. He has moved under the covers now, she assumes he got cold once he'd removed his jacket. She likes having him in her bed. She's filled with a sudden urge to move closer to him but she resists it.
"I can't sleep with you staring at me." He says suddenly his eyes still closed.
Her eyes go wide. She has no idea how he knew she was watching him, his eyes had been closed the entire time. She'd actually thought he was asleep.
"I'm not staring,…I'm just unconscious with my eyes open." She lies. She makes no effort to take her eyes off of him though.
He turns his head towards her, finally opens his eyes and smiles at her. It feels weirdly intimate.
She rolls her eyes at him.
"How you feeling?" He asks her.
"About as bad as you look." She smiles. Her head is still thumping. The nausea has tapered down a bit and she is feeling a touch better. The extra sleep worked its magic. She has no idea what the time is now though as the clock is now behind her. She doesn't want to move.
"What time is it?" She asks him.
"No clue." He tells her but starts searching his trouser pockets clearly looking for his phone, he finds it quickly squints at the bright screen. "11.47." He tells her.
She can't remember the last time she'd stayed in bed till lunchtime.
She drags herself into a sitting position, her head thumps harder. She needs pills. Knows there's some in the ensuite bathroom, she needs a wee too so she throws her legs over the side of the bed and drags herself to the bathroom.
She washes her hands then splashes cold water on her face. She feels like hell. Can see in the mirror that her pale skin is even paler than usual. She brushes her teeth while rummaging through the cabinet looking for the paracetamol. As soon as she's finished brushing she pops out two pills and throws them in her mouth, picks up the plastic cup fills it with water and downs the lot.
She pops out two more pills and refills the glass with water. Opens the door and heads back to her bedroom.
"Here." She says. She waits for him to sit up then places the cup of water in one hand and the pills in the other. She lets her fingers linger just a bit longer on his as she rolls the pills into his hand.
"Thanks." He says as he pops the pills in his mouth and drinks the water.
She walks back around to her side of the bed and gets back in, assumes her previous position facing him but makes sure she's an inch or so closer this time. Just as she settles down he moves to sit up and swings his legs over the bed and heads for the bathroom.
"There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink." She calls to him.
"Ohhh thanks." He says his tone full of appreciation at the small gesture.
She assumes he is going to want to call a cab now and go home. She doesn't want him to leave. She thinks back to last night. They'd had a really good time. Well from the bits she remembers anyway. She knows the memories will slowly come back as the hangover wears off. Her brain is functioning at about a third of the rate it usually does. She hopes the pills kick in soon. She can hear the sink running water. She shivers suddenly cold. Pulls the duvet further around herself.
He opens the bathroom door, looks around the floor and stands there awkwardly for a second clearly unsure of what he should do next. Then he is looking at her as if he is searching for the answer.
She pulls back the covers for him hoping he'll understand what she means. He does. He moves back to the bed to join her. He gets in then turns over to face her. He keeps a few safe inches between them.
"Can I tell you something?" He ask her.
"Er…sure?" Her voice suddenly nervous. She has no idea what he is going to tell her.
"I have no idea where my shoes are." His face looks worried.
She laughs.
"I'll help you look for them later."
"I had a good time last night." He tells her softly.
"Me too." She says genuinely.
His eyes move slowly to her lips and she knows he wants to kiss her. Her heart flutters. He moves one hand under the covers to find the top of her arm and strokes it gently. He runs his fingers from her shoulder down to her elbow and back up. She tingles at the sensation. He shuffles closer to her clearly encouraged by her reaction. His hand moves from her arm to her waist and he tugs on her gently, trying to get her closer. There's still a few inches between them. She moves forward and he smiles and she can't help but smile back. He moves then, brushes his lips against hers really softly like a whisper. He moves back and looks into her eyes. She moves her hand to his chest and strokes it lightly through his shirt, she can't wipe the smile off her face. She moves toward him for another kiss presses her lips to his more firmly.
"I guess this means you want a second date then?" He asks her.
"I thought it wasn't a date?" She asks him but she's still smiling.
"I lied." He tells her while moving in for another kiss.