In the bed of her Aztec, Mary stretched and smiled, ignoring the feeling of strangeness that was growing stronger. But then it grew, overwhelming her, and she gasped, sitting up straight. She looked towards the bedroom door in shock and, panicked, remembered it all.
And she knew what had happened. Valentine's Day. She'd been though this before.
Quickly, Mary climbed out of the bed and pulled the sheet off, wrapping it around and and rushing to open the door. From there she could see Huitzilopochtli where he stood in front of the fridge.
"I didn't do this," she promised him with a shake of her head.