'Hair From The Dog That Bit Me' Is A Line Used In Bars Where One Is Up The Next Morning, Drinking The Same Thing That Left Them Hungover.
I Used That Line, And I Thought I'd Clear That Up For Those Who Don't Know.
It's Quiet.
It's Always Quiet.
Well, At Least It Always Is When It's This Early.
I Turn My Head, Half Awake To The Morning Window.
A Rain-Sodden Sky The Color Of Wet Plaster, And A Thin Halo Of Sun.
I Turn Away, And Into The Captain's Warmth, I Can't Stay There Long.
I Can't Afford To Stay In Here.
Should Someone Come In For Any Reason At All, They'd Find Me Like This.
Half-Undressed, Soaked In Last Night's Events, In The Captain's Bed.
No Matter How Skilled The Lie, You Can't Worm Yourself Out Of That Situation.
You Could Have The Tongue Of Lucifer Himself, And You Still Couldn't.
I Sigh, As I Inch Away From The Captain's Sleep-Calmed Face,
Sliding His Limp Arms Away From Me, And Easing Myself Onto His Floor With Catlike Grace.
There Isn't Even A Sound As My Footsteps Lead Me Out With a Quiet Click As His Door Shuts
The Cologne Masks The Scent Of Sweat On Me, As I Slip Back Into My Quarters.
I Gaze At The Ceiling, Until I Drift Back Into Sleep.
It Doesn't Last Long.
A Handful Of Hours Later, I Find Myself Staring Up, Again.
Wide Awake, But Still Exhausted.
You Could Call It A Hangover Of Sorts.
My Body Aches From The Captain, And His Affections,
And My Mind Numbed Off The Idea Of Them.
Sore, With My Mind Still On Cloud-Nine.
I Slip Into My Shower.
I Need To Strip Myself Of Last Night.
Cologne Only Masks So Much;
It Can't Hide Tear Streaks, Messy Hair, And Tired Eyes From A Night Spent Awake.
Hot Water Strikes Them All Out, You're Left Awake And A Little Purer Than You'd Entered,
Hot Water Still Can't Quite Strip Away Sin.
I Pull Back The Sliding Glass, And Look At Myself In The Fogged Mirror.
I Still Look A Little Tired, But Who's To Say I'm Not?
I Don't Dry Off.
I Don't Even Bother Getting A Towel.
I Walk Dully To My Dresser And Grab A Uniform,
Usually, I Try To Get The Nicest One In The Drawer, But This Time, I Don't Care.
I Dress Up For The Day With No One To Impress.
I Take The Routine To A Close, And Leave My Room.
Rip Steps Up From Downstairs; The Bar Already Lined With People Looking For Hair From The Dog That Bit Them.
She's Dressed In Her Typical Way, Always Proper And Straight, Glasses Tilted Down Her Nose.
She Eyes Me Oddly, And Fumbles Around, Proffering A Book.
"Good Morning," She Chirps, In Seemingly High Spirits.
She Drops The Book Into My Hands, And I Recognize It As 'Faust'.
"You Might Need This," She Dots The Sentence With A Mischievous Wink.
"Meeting." She Says, In Mock Graveness.
I Tuck The Book Into My Pocket, Like I Did Last Time.
"Thank You," I Murmur.
We Walk The Halls Down To The Meeting Room, In Close Step.
"A Little Off Today?" She Questions.
"No, Tired." I Assure.
"Hmmmmm..." She Sighs, A Little Discontent.
"You Forgot Your Tie."
I Look Down At My Shirt, Where The Tie Should Be Neatly Tucked,
Only To Find A 'V' Where My Neck Meets My Clothing, And An Endless Trail Of Buttons.
"That's Disappointing; You Always Look Nice With Them On," She Nudges Me Playfully,
"They Make You Look A Little..."
"Classier?" I Cut In.
"Nicer." She Finishes.
I Sit Dutifully In My Seat, Paging Through The Exploits Of Doctor Faust, Half-Bored.
"Schrodinger?"
I Don't Bother To Look Up, Pretending To Have Not Heard My Name As I Finish Another Page.
"Schrodinger." The Major Calls.
I Look Up, My Eyes Wide, And My Posture Straight As If I Were At Attention.
"Yes?"
The Major's Piggish Cheeks Widen As His Madman's Smile Shines.
"We Would Like To Hear Your Details On The Recent Attempt On Your Life."
He Lilts 'Attempt' To Mark Another Victory On Millennium's Part.
I Sing For Him.
I Answer Every Question Meekly,
Spilling Any And All Details I Know Onto The Pages Of Some Non-Existent Book For Him.
In The End Of It All, He Nods Solemnly, As If He Is Deeply Interested.
"And It Wasn't An 'Attempt On My Life'." I Correct.
He Looks Up, A Little Annoyed At My Correction.
"They Wanted To Do Some Kind Of A Trade Off, I Believe."
The Major Sighs, As If He Is Speaking To A Child.
"We Know. How Do You Think We Found You?"
I Don't Speak.
I Could Argue, But The Seething Hatred, That Hidden Insanity.
That's Not Something I'd Like A Closer Peek At.
It's Not To Say It Doesn't Irk Me, Though.
'We'
As If He Were On The Scene, With A Gun Ready.
If I Remember Correctly, It Was The Captain Who Saved Me.
I Read A Bit More Of 'Faust' Before The Major Bellows Out In His Extravagant Voice, That We May Leave.
I Walk With Rip Through The Winding Halls, Making More Idle Chat As Our Boots Squeak Down The Tiles.
"You Should Watch Yourself Around The Major." She Scolds.
I Slip Faust Back Into Her Pockets.
We Walk Like That For Awhile, Silent Until We Near The Stairs.
"Thank You For The Book," I Yawn,
"I'm Going To Leave Now."
"Okay," She Smiles, In Odd Contrast To Her Warnings To Not Anger The Major.
"Next Time," She Pokes At My Neck With A Trimmed Nail,
"You Should Wear Your Tie."
I Laugh,
She Laughs,
And We Part Ways.