The Universe's Mixer

Backdated to the day after this

Jennifer woke up in her own bed. With absolutely no memory of how she'd gotten there. The details of the night before were hazy at best. It was likely she'd start recalling them later, after she didn't feel as if her head was going to explode or roll off of her body. She was also pretty sure that if she move any part of her, even an inch, she was going to throw up all over herself. Jen was pretty sure that she hadn't felt this shitty even when she'd been a zombie. She wanted to be dead. Actually, dead might not be enough. Maybe cremated would make her feel better.

She did vaguely remember the drinking part and the bar part where she'd met up with Crowley again. The rest was a blur. Wow, she hoped she hadn't done anything rash or stupid. Or illegal. But with Crowley there... oh boy.

There was also another memory there. The fact that Simon had told her that he wanted to marry her, and then had promptly broken up with her. That needed to be fixed, and right goddamned now. That's not the way things worked in the world. She didn't think that the future was so drastically different that relationships suddenly worked backwards like that. You didn't tell somebody that you loved them and then dump them. You didn't spring huge information like you loved them so much that you'd been considering marriage to them and then tell them you couldn't be with them right now. And then to hang up the phone??? Okay, yes, he was busy, he was a doctor. But then he'd never called back.

Despite the urge to purge, Jennifer rolled enough to discover her phone by her pillow and picked it up. She squinted at the brightness of the screen and frowned. She wasn't going to go outside today. She definitely wasn't going to go to work. Charlie might be disappointed in her, but she just couldn't do it. Maybe not for three million years.

Simon's name was not in her recent calls or her recently called list. He was not in her text message list. When she scrolled through to find his number in her phone book, his name was not there either. It was quite possible that she'd deleted it all in her fit of drunkenness. She wouldn't put it past herself. It was childish and disappointing, but she could picture doing it. And truthfully, she wouldn't have been any more surprised to find she'd relisted him under "Heartless Bastard". But it looked like deleted was the way she'd gone.

Screwing up her eyes to try to see the small buttons containing the numbers, Jennifer dialed his number by heart. She put the phone to her ear, expecting the ringing sound. She didn't know if he'd pick up or let it go to voice mail. She supposed it didn't really matter. She'd talk anyway.

But the sound didn't come. Instead, a recorded voice popped onto the line.

"The number you have dialed is not in service." Followed by a click.

She hit redial and got the same. She retyped the number and got the same.

Jennifer stared at the phone in her hand, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.