Cold. As I faded in and out of consciousness, that was the only thing I was aware of. A deep, penetrating cold. Drooping red hair fell in front of my eyes, and I tried to blow it off my face. The explusion of that one breath caused an uncontrollable coughing fit, and the red haze that filled my vision had nothing to do with my hair. The edges of the red faded to black, and I gratefully slipped into unconsciousness.

Flashback.

"Fuck!" I shouted. I heaved my EMR at the wall with all of my bodily strength and watched with seething satisfaction as the framed photo of all the Turks shattered and crashed to the floor. Throwing a kick at my desk and succeeding in overturning it, I proceeded to heave a stack of folders filled with confidential ShinRa information out the open apartment window. I stormed to the wall to pick up my EMR, with every intention of whipping it at something. I shouted and jerked back when I realized I'd picked up the electrified end, which was still on. I paused as I realized vaguely that the pain, for whatever reason, had calmed me. Studying my scorched palm, I tried to figure out what the deal was, and, failing miserably in doing so, cautiously reached forward and held my palm a few inches above the glowing tip of the EMR again. Sucking in a deep breath, I slammed my hand down.

I didn't think the sound that escaped me was human. The jolt that shot through me was the best and the worst feeling I had ever experienced. In those few seconds of contact, stinging, screaming agony shredded its way through my body, laced with a feeling of utter euphoria. With my eyes wheeling in my head, presence of mind finally came through and I yanked my hand back.

Lungs screaming for air, I staggered away and took a header onto my worn-down couch. In turn, the apartment took one slow, sick spin, and I rolled over onto my side and vomited over the edge of the sofa. My lungs shuddered as I concentrated on breathing. In, out. In, out. Squeezing my eyes closed, I realized that, despite my overwhelming nausea and dizziness, I felt… good. Easing my eyes open, I noted with mingled relief and disappointment that the dizziness was fading for the most part. Gripping the edge of the couch, I heaved himself up, but nearly shrieked in agony as the pain in my hand shot through me. I looked down at my hand in shock. It was completely annihilated. My palm, no longer simply swollen, was nearly melted, and scorched black. My fingers were a terrible red, and shone with the blisters of third-degree burns. I had always deplored such gory sights, and squealed like a girl during scary movies. For the sake of my ego, I decided before I hit the floor that it was only the electrocution that made me pass out.

End Flashback.

Light stabbed through my eyelids and seemed to penetrate my very brain. The cold was still there, coating my bones with ice as delicate as glass, numbing my joints with unabated frost. I faded out again for a moment, and then came back to myself with a jerk that had me keening like a wounded animal. My entire body was wracked in agony. Every layer of skin held its own layer of pain, every nerve in my body screaming with protest. I gently twitched my fingers, and felt the puddle of water they lay in skim over my skin. At least I could still feel my digits.

I lay there on the bathroom floor for a long theme, shuddering, wondering. My mind began to awaken, and I started to wonder what time it was. This is just fucking fantastic, I though to myself. Cautiously, I bent my knees, moved my limbs. When unconsciousness threatened again at the pain, I waited.

After what felt like 7 or 8 hours later, the agony had subsided enough for me to raise myself to my hands and knees. The first thing I managed was to crawl to the toilet and empty my stomach violently into the basin. I leaned my forehead against the cool porcelain and waited to be sure my stomach would hold. After a minute or so, I slitted open my eyes again. Bellying my way to the door, I hauled myself upright, almost collapsing at the explosion of pain. Staggering my way out into the living room, I noticed vaguely that I was entirely naked. I flopped on my naked ass in front of my medicine cabinet and popped 4 extra-strength painkillers. Immediate relief washed over me. I sat there for about 20 minutes while wave after wave of relief came, until finally, finally, there was no more pain. Unfortunately, the euphoria that usually came with the pain was gone too. Well, I could certainly fix that.

I yanked a bottle of Jameson's best out of the cupboard before I popped up, still wincing slightly at the stiffness of my limbs, and dove at the coffee machine. I slapped the machine, trying to make it hurry up as the precious black liquid, and the lifeblood of all Turks, dripped slowly and painfully into the glass pot. Knocking back a quarter of the bottle in my hand, I giggled girlishly as the alcohol tickled its way into my bloodstream. It occurred to me to get dressed, and as I turned around to face my full-wall window, over which I had apparently forgotten to close the blinds, I grinned like a demon as I noted the couple that was eating breakfast gawking at… well, gawking at me. I waved enthusiastically and all but danced into the bedroom. Yanking a suit off a hanger, I successfully managed to put my shirt on, albeit backwards, and get both my legs stuck in the same pant leg. Rearranging, I glanced at the mirror and thought I looked damn distinguished, if I did say so myself. I slid my goggles on, not failing to let go and smack myself in the face with them a few times before I successfully got them on my head.

Yanking the coffee out from under the brewer, I knocked back two mugs before I noticed the clock and the fact that I was late for work.

"Fuckshit!"

I stuffed some papers at random into my briefcase, along with my EMR and the bottle of Jameson's. Scrambling, or the closest thing to scrambling a very drunk person could manage, I took a header out the door and hoofed it to Shinra HQ as fast as my drunken stumbles would carry me.

I attempted to compose myself as I headed into ShinRa. I half walked, half tripped into the office I shared with Rude, and flopped down behind my desk. I glanced around, noting that Rude either wasn't in yet, or was off dealing with something that I would have likely been also dealing with, had I not been unconscious or intoxicated.

Opening my briefcase in order to make it look like I was doing something, I stared into the contents for a moment before exploding into hysterical laughter. Apparently I had forgotten to put a lid on my bottle of Jameson's in my haste to get to the office. My briefcase was now filled with the amber liquid and had official ShinRa business floating on the surface of it. Giggling uncontrollably, I pulled my EMR out gingerly and hoped the company would cover my weapon insurance.

I heard footsteps coming towards the office. It could have been a million people, but I knew. I slammed my still-swimming briefcase shut, vaulted my desk into a face plant, and slipped behind the door. A few seconds later, Rude arrived, carrying a soft drink. I watched from behind the door, and a drunken snort tried to tickled its way out through my nose. He looked around, noticing my briefcase, but a distinct lack of me. He turned around to look for the source of the snort, and at that moment, I flung myself out from behind the door and launched myself at him with all my strength.

The force of my leap sent us into a summersault in a tangle of arms and legs. When we stopped rolling, spitting out a stream of obscenities, he shoved me off and stood up. I beamed up at him from my upside-down position on the floor.

"Hey, buddy!"

"Why did I get stuck with such a moron partner? Why!" He addressed his question to the ceiling, which amused me. Then again, in my state, if he had kicked me in the head it probably would have amused me, but that's besides the point.

Rolling onto my stomach, I came face to face with Rude's spilled soft drink.
"Hey, straws!" I exclaimed, and grabbed one.

Rude grabbed me by the back of my jacket and hauled me up with one hand.
"Are you ok, dude?"

I swatted him away and stumbled enthusiastically to my desk. I popped open my briefcase, fished out the soggy papers, and stuck the straw into it. Sucking happily at my briefcase-bar, I didn't notice Tseng come in.

I heard Rude mutter a muffled "Oh, fuck," and peeped over the top of the briefcase. A strangled "Eep!" escaped me, and I ducked under the desk. The last thing I heard before the now-empty briefcase went flying, narrowly missing my head, was Tseng's shout of, "What do you mean, DRUNK!"