OOM: France and the morning after.

[fanofthegenre]

[ late nights have early mornings ]

Beckett's an early riser by nature. Years of surviving on little to no sleep have equipped her for this kind of thing.

It's the reason why she's the first to wake up, blinking sleep from her eyes before she even realizes where she is or what's going on. The hangover hits next - a headache that starts to pound in her head, and she rolls over onto her back with a groan, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose with one hand.

Her other is pinned, for some reason, and she pries it out from underneath - Bill?

She blinks a few more times, and slowly, the events of last night come back in a rush - of sweat, skin, sex. It still hangs in the air, on her body, around the three of them, and she mouths a quiet oh, my God before she staggers off to the bathroom to splash some water on her face.

Comments

[wheelsy_sheriff]

It might be the light coming in through the edge of the curtains, or Beckett's movements beside him, or the ache that's drumming in his head, but something makes Bill stir and slowly drags him into consciousness.

He cracks an eye open, then shuts it quickly with a wince. His mouth is bone dry, his stomach is churning on itself, and everything, including his thoughts and memories, are fuzzy around the edges.

Hangover.

Reaching his hand up he scrubs it over his face, then tries to get his eyes open again. It takes a bit of blinking, and he only manages to get his eyelids cracked halfway before things come into a hazy focus.

The sight of Kate sleeping next to him makes him smile, and his eyes wander down what's exposed of her body.

Leaving her to sleep a bit longer he carefully gets out of bed and shuffles towards the bathroom.

Turning the knob he steps in and smacks into--

"Kate?"

Only, not his Kate.