It had gotten cold. The realization hit her suddenly and she figured the wine had helped delay the sensation. Dresses weren't things Amanda often had occasion to wear. So when she'd woken up to a day that was unseasonably warm, sunny, and included plans to meet David, she took the opportunity to dress up. But now the sun was down and Amanda was becoming distinctly aware of the fact that her outfit was no match for a February night in New York. For a moment she wistfully pondered how much warmer a rooftop in Georgia would be. A thought that was immediately followed by a need for more wine, only for the warming sensation it would provide, of course.

By the time they left the roof, Amanda could hardly feel the cold. As they made their way back to David's apartment, she couldn't feel much of anything. Amanda stumbled down the first few stairs and David was quick to grab her arm to steady her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Of course. I'm ready to take these shoes off though," she grinned at him.

"Oh, is that all?" he laughed and took her hand. "Your fingers are freezing."

"I don't feel cold," she assured him. "I don't even feel my face." She reddened a bit after that last statement. It had somehow slipped out though she hadn't wanted to say anything quite so embarrassing.

"Wow," he laughed. "Sounds serious."

"Nah, I just mean I feel…unwound," she tried to recover. "My life has been kinda crazy lately. Sometimes it seems like there's no time, no room to breathe, ya know? And then tonight was just...I dunno...nice."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. You should let go more often."

"Hmm," Amanda mused as they entered the apartment.

Once inside, she made quick work of taking off her shoes and collapsing into a living room chair. David stopped in the kitchen before following her into the living room carrying two glasses and a bottle of what appeared to be bourbon.

"Do you need a chaser, or is straight okay with you?" he asked.

"Oh, actually I think I've had as much as I can handle for one night."

In truth, Amanda was beginning to feel like she'd had more than she could handle. She wasn't sure when it happened, but somehow she'd passed the point of being happily buzzed, pleasantly inebriated, or merely drunk. Somehow, what she was feeling now was overwhelmingly tired and maybe even a bit dizzy. She was confused because despite her appearance, Amanda's upbringing, and then chosen profession, had groomed her into a very capable drinker. She was no lightweight and being so disoriented now was very disconcerting.

"Are you sure?" David continued, pouring a glass. "We could put on a movie and hang out a while longer. This stuff is really good you have to try it," he said pushing the glass toward her.

"Thank you, but you know I'm feeling pretty tired so I should probably head out now. It's late and the subway's gonna get weird." She gave a soft laugh and stood to collect her shoes. She made it a step before she swayed on her feet and David was by her side in a moment to steady her.

"Whoa, are you okay? I don't think you should be walking anywhere by yourself right now." He grabbed her by the waist and wrapped her arm around his shoulder.

"I'm okay. I'm just tired. I guess I had too much fun. I just need to go sleep it off." She tried to smile to reassure assure him, but the effort seemed to be too much and now she really was beginning to wonder if trekking across New York drunk and alone in the middle of the night was the best plan.

"Listen, why don't you just stay here?" He asked as he began to guide her out of the living room. Amanda stopped walking.

"It's nice of you to offer, but I just wouldn't feel right spending the night-"

"Not with me. Just in my apartment," he cut her off. "I promise this isn't a proposition or anything. I'd just worry about you out there right now." He smiled and Amanda took a moment to take in his face.

Now was a time for weighing options. Her stubborn streak wanted her to insist on going home just to prove she could do it. Prove she was a tough girl, a big, strong cop capable of drinking whatever she pleased and then braving New York in the dark. Amanda was no stranger to the term hard-headed, and she craved the independence and pride that getting home would give her, but as she stood there, draped over David she questioned if she could make it as far as the door.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't be very nice of me to make you worry all night." She grinned and turned to lie on the couch when David stopped her.

"No way. You take the bed. I can stay on the couch if you're more comfortable, but I was raised better than to let you sleep out here."

He walked her into the bedroom and despite her desire to protest further she was glad to get off her feet and into the bed. She was tired, and uncomfortable with the turn of events, but she was aware that this evening had started off as a date and she was worried her actions would doom this to be their last one. Amanda looked up at David who was getting clothes from a drawer and said, "Well, I can't kick you out of your own bed. That's just wrong."

David turned and smiled at her. He sat down beside her on the bed and when he leaned over and kissed her, she felt warm and excited. He lowered her onto the pillow and pressed his body into hers. She ran her hands over his back, up his neck, and into his hair. They kept kissing, each moment generating more heat, sparking more excitement, until Amanda pulled away.

"Hey," she began "this is...well, I hope it's okay, I hope I'm not ruining things here, but can we just sleep together in this bed without sleeping together?"

David propped himself on his elbow and looked at her. "It's okay," he said as he rested his hand on her hip. "But what we were just doing was nice."

Amanda opened her mouth to answer but was stopped by David's lips against hers. She grinned into the kiss and enjoyed letting her hands explore him until her limbs felt clumsy and too burdensome to maneuver and she realized she was falling asleep.

The first thought Amanda had upon waking up was that she felt heavy. It seemed odd that she could have become so massive overnight. Odd that she could have gotten so heavy she couldn't lift her arms or move her legs. She thought maybe she was still in some state of sleep. Maybe her mind had regained consciousness before her body and maybe that's why she couldn't move. She wondered if her limbs had somehow turned to lead and thereby been rendered useless. She thought all these things before she realized that the weight, the immobilizing heaviness, it was not a part of her, it was on top of her. David was on top of her.

Even as she was taking in this information, trying to make sense of it, Amanda was noticing another sensation, wetness. She was wet, it seemed like all over, but as she become more alert she realized it was concentrated in two places, her face and her center. She was crying. Her eyes, her nose, her cheeks were wet with tears. They slid down her face and into her hair. Some made it down her chin and onto her neck. She could feel the dampness on the pillow where it had caught some as well.

And David was on top of her. And she was wet in regions below her neck. And she couldn't bear to think about the sources of the moisture. But David was on top of her.

"No. Please." She cried " Please. Stop." She kept crying.

She couldn't tell if the words were coming out. She felt like she was underwater. Everything swum and spun around her and she wasn't sure she could stay awake much longer. She wasn't really sure if she was awake right now. The heavy feeling she had woken up to was pressing down on her. It was in her bones stopping her arms from moving. It was in her head blurring her sight and slurring her tongue.

And all the while David was still on top of her. And inside of her. And all the while her body betrayed her. Her mind fuzzed and couldn't help her. Her limbs failed and couldn't free her. Her voice faltered and couldn't save her. And yet her most intimate parts, the ones she'd most like to shield, were responding not to her own desires, but those of another.

Traitorous. Treacherous. Worthless. Even as Amanda's head continued reeling, one thing became clear. She was not in charge of her own body. She was not in control. The heaviness paralyzing her form was in control. The thickness clouding her skull was in control. The fear tightening her chest was in control. David, David with his hands and his mouth and his crushing weight was in control. But Amanda, Amanda who was losing the battle to stay conscious, spent her last cognizant moment realizing she was not in control.