She woke the next morning, having slept fitfully the rest of the night. She pinched herself to ensure that she really was awake. She stretched, but the good ache she craved wasn't there. She slumped out of bed, wandering over to Marlene's vanity and plopping down. Ugh, she thought, examining her puffy eyes. She rummaged around in the drawers until she found something to fix them. She ruffled her hair in the mirror, pleased to see some red sheen showing up at last. Satisfied, she brushed her teeth and headed down to breakfast.

The smell of bacon and eggs greeted her nostrils as she descended the stairs. She inhaled deeply. Breakfast was Dorcas's favorite meal of the day, and would gladly eat it any time of the day. She found the twins shoveling food into their mouths, Marlene side eyeing her boyfriend, teacup halfway to her mouth. Dorcas smiled at the sight.

"Finally," Wes groaned, coming up behind her and ushering her into the kitchen. Dorcas allowed herself to be shuffled over to the stove. "What does m'lady desire for breakfast?" He asked, waggling an egg front of her.

"Just some toast and bacon is fine," she said, her voice cracking from disuse.

Wes visibly deflated. "Aw come on," he urged. "I just learned how to flip eggs. Let me make you one," he begged, frying pan in one hand, egg in the other. He wiggled his hips and Dorcas shouldn't have found it attractive. Which she didn't, of course.

Oh bloody hell, she thought. "Over easy," she said, reaching around him to grab a piece of bacon before sidling over to the table with the others. Marlene poured her a cup of tea and passed over the sugar bowl, knowing that Dorcas only drank cream with coffee.

"Sleep okay?" she asked, turning away from her boyfriend as he helped himself to last few bites of her toast.

"Yeah," she answered simply, concentrating on stirring her tea rather than meeting her friend's eye. Wes glanced at her slyly from across the kitchen. Dorcas glared back. Do you know how much you suck? she said with her eyes.

Oblivious, Marlene changed the subject. "How's your shoulder?" she asked, pulling up her own sleeve to show off her bruise. Dorcas examined her shoulder for the first time since running into the door.

"A clear winner," Gideon pronounced. Indeed, Marlene's shoulder had a red scrape on it where as Dorcas's bruise was a lovely conglomerate of blues, purples, and her personal favorite: green.

"Mmm, now that's sexy," Wes commented, examining her shoulder as he slid an egg onto her plate. "I have some ointment that will get rid of that in minutes if you like."

Marlene scoffed. "No thanks, I don't need any, sweet brother of mine."

Wes made a face back at her. "Don't be such a girl."

"But I am a girl," she mumbled.

Dorcas nibbled on her toast, watching their banter. This was the way it was supposed to be. She cut into her egg with her fork, delighted that he hadn't overcooked the yolk. She soaked it up with the remainder of her toast. She thanked him for the egg when he finally sat down to eat.

"Glad you like it, 'cause, as the last one down, you get to do the dishes." He ripped off a piece of toast, smirking at her from across the table.

"Damn it."

She was grateful, at least, that they had had a simple breakfast, and finished cleaning up quickly. She wiped down the counter before making her way back upstairs. Wes's door was half open, and she knocked softly before pushing it open. He was lying on his half-made bed, head propped up on his hand as he read a letter. He glanced up at her when she stuck her head in the room. "I'm only open for booty calls after ten, sorry love."

Dorcas rolled her eyes. You need to stop, she thought.

Wes smiled, his eyes crinkling. "Sorry, here for your shoulder?"

"Yes please," she said simply. He motioned for her to follow him into the adjoining bathroom. He looked around under the sink for a few moments before finding in the back of a drawer.

"Well, come here," he said, and she left her perch in the doorway. He rolled up her sleeve and clicked his tongue disapprovingly at the sight of her bruise. "Next time you scrap with Marlene, hit harder for me, alright?" Dorcas blushed as he began to put the oily medicine on her bruise. He glanced up at her, noticing her pink cheeks. "You blush a lot," he remarked bluntly. "Was it something I said?" he teased when she said nothing.

She smiled at that. "No," she answered truthfully.

"Aw, and I thought it was just me," he pouted, blowing on her shoulder to make the ointment dry faster. She could feel the hairs on her arm standing up on end. He's doing this on purpose, I swear. "Sorry," he said as she shivered. Dorcas examined her shoulder to avoid looking at him. It had lightened in color and was considerably smaller already. Wes applied a second coating of ointment, but let it air dry this time, much to Dorcas's relief. "Are you really that shy?" he asked, leaning up against the sink.

Dorcas shrugged. "I'm not that shy, really, I just get embarrassed easily."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't see how they're different," he admitted.

Dorcas bit her lip before replying. "I'm not Marlene, I didn't grow up with boys like she did. I only have a little sister who makes me look like Marlene. So, I guess, in that way, I am shy," she admitted.

Wes nodded. She wasn't sure if he understood or not. He leaned over, examining her shoulder where the bruise had been not five minutes ago. "All better," he pronounced.

"Thanks, Wes," she said, surprise showing in her voice as she examined her now bruise-less shoulder. She made to leave but he grabbed her hand. She was bloody blushing again.

He let go of her hand, seeing her flushed face. Laughing quietly to himself he put his hand under her chin, turning her face towards the light. She could feel her blush deepening. He sighed, "What are we going to do with you, Dorcas?" She smiled, meeting his eyes and shrugging. As if I don't want to get over this, she thought. His expression grew serious, an expression he didn't wear often. He crossed his arms and she could tell he was choosing his words carefully and stayed silent. "I'm sorry if I ever make you uncomfortable," he began slowly. "That's not my intention. I'm just used to Marlene who, frankly, isn't fazed by anything I say. I don't mean to embarrass you, lady," he finished with an apologetic smile.

"I know," she said. "You don't mean to do a lot of things… But thank you." She gave him a small smile, squeezing his arm before turning away, leaving him to ponder her parting words. It was his turn to think about her.

Dorcas and Marlene went into town for the afternoon, perusing the Muggle shops. Despite her previous denials, Dorcas really had grown in the past year and as such needed to buy new Muggle wear. The dress she was currently wearing was borderline too short and was definitely tighter around the chest than when she bought it.

She enjoyed spending the day away from the boys for the first time that week. Marlene took pleasure in mocking some of the more ridiculous Muggle trends, daring Dorcas to try them on. Eventually she started trying them on herself when Dorcas grew tired of trying on more 'no's than 'yes's.

They treated themselves to an ice cream cone after they had exhausted all the stores that the little town had to offer. Dorcas plopped down on an empty bench, relieving her arms of the weight of her bags. She licked the melted ice cream that had run down her hand. A Muggle boy a few years younger than her winked from across the street. Dorcas couldn't help but look affronted. Marlene laughed openly beside her. Offended, the boy wandered away. Marlene turned her attention, instead, to the store that the Muggle had been leaning against.

"Be right back," she said, shoving the last of her ice cream cone in her mouth. She darted across the street, leaving Dorcas with a bench full of bags to protect. A few minutes later Marlene reemerged from the store, paper bag in hand and a huge grin on her face that could only mean trouble.

"What is that?" Dorcas whispered urgently, curiosity peaked in spite of her sense of foreboding.

"Muggle alcohol," Marlene answered mischievously. "It has gold flecks in it, look! How cool is that?" She shoved the bag under Dorcas's face excitedly. She laughed. Only Marlene.

"So what's the plan?"

The boys greeted Marlene's paper bag with much enthusiasm. To show their thanks, they cooked dinner for the girls before beginning the evening's shenanigans. To begin, they all took a shot of the clear liquid, Marlene and Dorcas's eyes watering as it burned their throats. The twins laughed, and set about finding a suitable mixer for them. After Gideon had discovered a dangerously delicious concoction, they made a giant batch and set it on the floor of the sitting room. Wes produced a deck of Muggle playing cards and they sat in a circle around the "punch" bowl. They had decided that the only way to drink Muggle alcohol was with one of their games. Dorcas could already feel the tingle behind her eyes, and therefore had trouble paying attention while Wes explained the rules to the Muggle drinking game. She giggled, asking him to explain the rules again. He moved next to her, explaining the meaning of each card to her.

"…and ace is waterfall, so if you get an ace, you start to drink. Then Marlene will have to drink, then Fabian, Gideon, and myself, and we can't stop drinking until the person before us does."

"Okay…" she said slowly, having already forgotten what a four, seven, and nine meant.

He threw an exasperated look at her, and Dorcas grinned sheepishly. She was such a lightweight. "I'll just explain as we go along."

Dorcas soon regretted not being able to remember four ("floor") and seven ("heaven"). She was always the last to point either up or down, and as such, kept having to drink. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so much—or drank so much, she admitted to herself. Her face was completely numb and her hands and feet were tingling.

Fabian and Marlene were growing more and more affectionate by the minute, much to Wes's dismay. Fabian tickled her side slyly and Marlene erupted into a fit of laughter, snorting oh-so-attractively. Everyone laughed at that, and Dorcas was soon gasping for air. Wes grabbed hold of her shoulder as doubled over, straying dangerously close to the punch bowl. She leaned into him instead, her head too fuzzy to worry about Marlene.

She took a deep breath, thankful that the room had stopped spinning. "I need a drink," she said into his shoulder.

He laughed, "That's the last thing you need right now, lady." She laughed along with him.

"No, I know. I want water." He nodded, getting to his feet and helping her up, steadying her as she swayed a bit. Moving made the room spin and she didn't like the feeling. She was grateful that his tolerance was much higher than hers. She leaned against him as he got a glass from the cupboard. He put the cup down and, grabbing her by the waist, hoisted her up onto the counter.

He came back with the water what felt simultaneously like seconds and ages later. She took a sip, not having realized just how thirsty she was, and drained half the glass. "Better?" he asked.

Dorcas held her thumb and pointer finger a centimeter apart. "A little." She sighed heavily, suddenly feeling tired. She laid her head on his shoulder.

"You're a mess, Dorcas Meadowes," he said, a smile in his voice. She shook her head against his shoulder, tickling him with her hair. He laughed softly, pulling her hair away from his face.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed like that, time had been moving in strange lulls and lurches. She was sure, however, that she was done drinking. "I think I should go to sleep now," she mumbled into his collarbone.

"I think you're right," he agreed. "Let's go," he said, helping her down from the counter. Much to her relief, the room was no longer spinning every time she moved.

He made to follow her but she put a hand to his chest. "I got it, honest." She met his gaze, and he let her go, though he looked as if it were against his better judgment. She slowly made her way to the stairwell. She was halfway up the stairs when the nausea hit her. She'd never been sick before, but she'd also never had this much to drink before either. She walked as quickly as she dared up the remaining steps, and made a beeline for the closest lavatory, which, unfortunately, was Wes's.

Dorcas groaned, flushing the toilet for the second time. She felt much better, but doubly exhausted. She splashed her face with cold water from the faucet and borrowed some mouthwash that was on the counter. Her feet felt twice as heavy as usual, and she gave up on trying to make it back to Marlene's room, crawling under the covers.

"Somebody's lost," Wes laughed upon noticing her in his bed.

Dorcas's eyes fluttered open. What time was it? Where was she? Was she even awake? The last of these thoughts made its way to her lips. "Am I awake or dreaming?"

"Awake," he answered her, pulling his shirt over his head.

Dorcas watched him warily, not entirely convinced that she was awake. "Then why am I in your bed?"

He shrugged into a clean shirt. "I should be asking you that question."

Dorcas groaned as she remembered the nausea and the lead feet that followed. She wiped her eyes sleepily. "Could you sleep in Marlene's room? I don't feel like moving," she laughed feebly.

He snorted. "So don't." He sat down on the opposite side of the bed, straightening the covers she had thrown off and pulling them back over her. "But there's no way I'm sleeping in Marlene's fluffy ass bed. Scoot over."

"What?" Dorcas said, bewildered and wanting desperately to go back to sleep.

He shoved her slightly, "You heard me. This bed is big enough for a family of four, so budge over." She obliged, rolling out of the middle and hugged the side. "You're sleeping here?" she asked, still confused.

"Well, yeah, it's my bed." She could feel the bed rock as he burrowed under the sheets. She was so tired, and thinking was hard. Wes seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he rolled over, stifling a yawn, "Now, please, stop with the questions. I am drunk." Dorcas smiled at him over the pillow. "Good night, lady."