"Go away," Andi groaned into her pillow as the sun's morning rays crept over her face and woke her up. There was a pounding in her head that she tried to smother out with the comfortor to no avail. The morning was a curse she'd never be rid of, so she decided it was better to face the day rather than ignore it.

Throwing the comforter back, she stretched where she lay, rolling over from her back onto her stomach, and reached for her comms device. Instead she found a folded note next to a small plate with some medicine on it and a full glass of water. Squinting, she opened the paper and read the familiar hand writing.

"Mornin' Andi. Take these for the headache. Prior."

Prior.

Reading his name had Andi looking frantically around her room for him, half expecting him to be sitting in a chair in the corner, or out on her patio watching the sunrise. But she wasn't even sure he'd been there over night. She recalled drinking by a fire on the beach. She recalled laughing and flirting. She recalled stumbling back up the beach once the wine was gone. But she couldn't recall anything past that. Or at least nothing whole. Nothing she could use to piece the evening together.

Maybe he'd put her in bed after that? She was wearing her night clothes, so maybe she'd gotten dressed in them and just gone to sleep?

Gods, please let me have gone to sleep.

She pulled herself into a sitting position on her bed, her back to the sun, and took the medication as directed. They were just pain relievers but she welcomed the sweet numbing feeling they brought to her throbbing head. Moving from her bed, she went to secretary in the corner of the room and pulled out the middle drawer, revealing a small stash of marijuana she'd picked up before leaving Terminus as well as her sherlock pipe. She loaded a small bowl, enjoying the lightness that followed shortly after partaking, and replaced everything when she was finished. Next stop: a shower.

Hot water cascaded from the ceiling as she stepped into the stone and glass enclosure and she bit her lip lightly at the heat. It was a welcomed reminder to her and she stepped fully underneath the streams, closing her eyes lightly. In the same instant, she was hit with flashes of tangled limbs, skin pressed to skin and nails digging into whatever they could find. Her breath caught in her throat as a giant wave of emotion flooded every inch of her body. If she hadn't already been warmed by the water in the shower, she'd have thought she was hot with fever because of the temperature to which her blood rose. Every inch of her ached but not painfully. No, it was longing.

And just as quickly as it came, it was gone: the feeling, the images, the emotion. All of it was gone and she was left feeling hollow and empty and just exhausted.

She stumbled backwards into the stone wall of the shower and pressed her shoulders into the cool surface. It was a shock to her system, much like stepping into the hot water had been, and she struggled to catch her breath. She couldn't feel the passion and the warmth from the events anymore, but she could feel their abscence rooted deep in her chest and it ached.

Slowly she sank to the floor of the shower, crumbling in on herself as she went, and she wept. She didn't fight it this time, not like she'd done so many times before. This time she just let it flow unchecked as the water cascaded over her, naked and afraid on the floor of the shower.

She'd recognized the emotion. She'd recognized the passion. Part of what she felt was hers, but most of it wasn't. It was borrowed. Taken in the heat of the moment and experienced with reckless abandon. Left unchecked, it had consumed her entire being and left her catatonic when it was finished. It was why she couldn't remember Prior leaving, or ever being being there after they left the beach. It was why her head was pounding when she awoke, though part of that was credit the wine as well. It was why her chest ached. It wanted the passion back. It wanted to feel the burning again.

But now that she was left to sit with the knowledge that she'd crossed her own line, she could only wonder one thing: what had she done?