I'm so, so sorry it's taken so long to update everyone! My brain just hasn't wanted to co-operate these past couple of weeks :( I'll attempt to post up another chapter in the next day or so, to make up for my tardiness ;)

Thanks to those of you who have reviewed! Please keep them coming so I know what you think of my progress so far.

A reminder - thoughts are written in italics.


At the same moment that Wheeler was being yanked to consciousness by the buzzing of the alarm clock, Linka was beginning to stir, her body clock slowly drawing her awake.

She vaguely wonders why her alarm hasn't gone off until, in her semi-lucid state, she notices the sweaty and slightly offensive odour radiating from around her. Her nose wrinkles – smells like old socks and stinking boys – and as she stretches with a silent yawn, her knuckles brushing the bed head, she realises with disgust that she seems to be a contributing source of the smell. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she swings her legs over the side of the bed, with the intention of promptly showering the stench off. Her legs jar painfully as her feet hit the floor sooner than she anticipated. She blinks in the early morning light, the low-hanging sun peeping over the window sill, blinding her somewhat as she drags herself heavily from the bed with a frown.

Distracted by thoughts of feeling strangely leaden and awkward, and curious why she stank so much – bozhe moi, what happened last night? - she fails to notice the pair of shoes lying in her path. After stumbling over the sneakers, her foot snags inside a pair of jeans, and in an attempt to halt her inevitable fall she reaches for the bed post. Her eyes widen in surprise as her hand slips over the top of the post, caused by the towel slung carelessly over the top, and with her full weight behind her she lands sprawled on the floor. Chyort voz'mí! What...? Looking up from her prostrate position she realises with disgust that her face is bare inches away from a rumpled collection of dirty socks, boxers and tissues. Gádost! That is disgusting!

Rumpled beneath her hand is the towel that led to her current position and as she scowls at the object of her demise, she suddenly focuses on the hand resting atop it. Her scowl slowly vanishes and is replaced by one of simple astonishment, her brain unable to process the contradiction witnessed by her eyes. Tentatively, with fingers twitching, she draws the hand towards her face, her eyes tracing along the outline of each finger, and lingering on the flaming symbol before her. Wrenching her eyes away from the ring, she glances over the pale scars marring the knuckles, the faint splatter of freckles dotting the back of the hand and the small, circular burn mark still evident just beneath the knuckle of the forefinger.

Pushing up to kneel amongst the chaotic mess she silently stares at the hands before her, turning them to gaze, stunned, at the broad palms. Her brain is numb. She clenches her fists closed loosely and drops her arms as she casts her eyes over the messy room. Slowly standing, she absently kicks her foot free from its trapped position within the jeans and turns to look back at the bed and the rumpled sheets with a frown. Her brain tentatively begins to whir once again - How did I end up here, like this? She looks down at her outstretched hands once more – my hands, or Wheeler's hands? Bozhe moi, I do not want to think where his hands have been! - and holds them a little further away from herself with a small look of revulsion.

As Linka glances over the small tip-site that is Wheeler's room a string of thoughts creep into her mind – if I am waking up in Wheeler's body, then what is happening to mine? Could he wake up in my body? With a sudden look of horror it hits her – Bozhe Moi! I do not trust that durak with my body! Who knows what he will be doing with it! Nyet, I have a rough idea...

With the prospect of Wheeler taking full advantage of the bizarre situation she turns on her heel and, stumbling slightly over the carpet of clothes and almost tripping on the path, unused to the longer legs, Linka bolts in the direction of her own hut.

I hope I am not too late, "WHEELER!"


A/N - I know it's a short chapter, but it seemed to take me forever to write! I always seem to have trouble writing Linka... Anyhow, it seemed more logical to end this chapter here, as it mirrors the previous one. Also, I wanna add - the stinky boys bit was my boyfriend's suggestion! So thanks, Matt for the input - and for allowing me to lay claim to the fact that boys smell in the morning! ... Also thought I'd add that Linka's little 'trip' is roughly based on a true event. More like events. Yes, I have stumbled, fallen on my ass and face planted in my bedroom after tripping on shoes or clothes and once a towel that I left hanging over the end of my bed. I've also slipped on those stupid slippery/glossy plastic bags, but figured the Planeteers would be more eco-friendly than I am and wouldn't use plastic bags... So yeah, I'm kinda messy :S