<ul>It had been a good sleep. If there had been dreams, Zilah didnâ€™t remember them. When her eyes fluttered open, it was a grey, bare wall that met her then. She half remembered a warm body beside hers and upon feeling the mattress there against the fabric, she felt his warmth. His warmth. Quen. Where was he?  <br/><br/>Rolling onto her back with some difficulty, given the tenderness that was still rather present. For a moment, Zilah glanced down at the stitches placed there by Quen the night before, her fingers running over the tough string keeping it all together. Exhausted, her body hit the bed once more, and she blinked away the sleep that still clung to the very tips of her eyelashes. <br/><br/>She was so sure he had been hereâ€¦<br/><br/>That was when the shower door clicked open, and somewhat by instinct, Zilah closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. What was she supposed to say to him now? They had slept in the same bed together. Who <span style="font-style: italic">did</span> that besides old married couples? Maybe if there had been sex she could make a comment about his prowess...but now?<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">You have a comfortable shoulder.</span><br/><br/>Right.<br/><br/>So she settled for feigning sleep. When she heard noise, her head turned ever so slightly, and her eyes ever so barely peeled open. There he was, drying himself off and entirely oblivious to her wandering eyes. So she let them wander, letting the brown travel over the sharp lines and the soft contours of his body, taking the entirety of it in and attempting to mask a smile as she did so. Despite her better judgement, she found herself attracted to him, and had to be reminded that theirâ€¦whatever this was now, was teetering over a rather high precipice between two very uncomfortable scenarios. <br/><br/>He was coming with her.  Said that he would accompany her to get the artefacts back. Surely, she couldnâ€™t do that. Why would she risk her entire reputation with her clientele for a space patrol officer that not too long ago was entirely comfortable to send her to her death? Zilah would go home, this she knew, and Quenâ€™s ship would send her there.<br/><br/>When he asked for the time,the woman finally released a sigh and shifted on the bed to eye the wrist piece. â€œItâ€™s 11:34 AM.â€<br/><br/>Pushing herself up, she groaned at the tightness in her belly, and rubbed a hand over her eyes. She was still only in her undergarments, which looked awkward considering Quen was fully dressed. Where had she put that extra uniform again? And where was the whiskey? She needed it now more than ever.<br/><br/>Getting out of bed, she tried a stretch, but stopped halfway through when it became apparent that the pain would not allow for it.  Awkwardly, she lowered her arms back down and stood there as nonchalantly as she could muster whilst half naked. â€œUghâ€¦So, yes. Lotâ€™s of things to do today.â€ She could have kicked herself. â€œI think Iâ€™m going to take a shower first though, if thatâ€™s alright with you.â€<br/><br/>She would have to go back into her ship later and acquire some things. No way was she getting into that uniform again. Walking around him, she opened the shower door and peered inside. Without another word, she stepped inside and closed the door in after her, working off the little clothes she had inside and tossing them aside.<br/><br/>When the warm water hit her body, Zilah could have melted into a puddle of joy. The soft caress was exactly what her sore body needed, and closing her eyes she let her face bury itself under the stream, drowning out everything else.</ul>