WHO: Verity, Terence
WHAT: The morning after.
WHERE: Still Vegas, likely.
WHEN: Sunday morning.
RATING: PG-13 for language and tiny mentions of previously occurring adult...activities? Nothing awful.
STATUS: Complete



Ugh. Her head hurt. Her head hurt, and it was way too bright, she could tell that through her eyelids. Cracking one eye opened, Verity noticed that she was in a rather tackily decorated suite, so she groaned and rolled to her other side.

Her eyes snapped open and she tried her hardest not to shriek. Terence was lying there. And they were both naked. And she was...rather pleasantly sore. Except that it was Terence, and so it was not pleasant, and she was beginning to freak out at the fact that she had obviously gotten drunk and slept with her daughter's father. Again.

They had a bad habit of doing this, although it hadn't happened in a while. Ugh. It was a habit that she needed to break.

Gingerly edging out of the bed, she tried to tug the sheet along with her and realized after pulling on it for a moment that Terence wasn't going to give it up. Her attention was taken away from her annoyance at that, though, by the light glinting off of a tacky ring. On her left ring finger.

This time she did scream.