![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
OOM: Suite 130
Jan. 17th, 2010 08:42 pm[Continued from here.]
It's morning.
Veronica wakes from a dreamless sleep completely and fully, her eyes snapping open to take in the ceiling above her head. It's not the ceiling she was expecting, but it is a ceiling she knows: Milliways.
Okay. So. Inventory.
One set of pyjamas—her own, which is nice. Ten fingers and ten toes. Some vague memories of being taken to the infirmary which get especially blurry after the German guy asked about her medical history with opiates. And one throbbing, aching, holy-fuck-this-is-unpleasant shoulder wound.
Oh, and one Mills, sleeping in a chair. (Why the chair? she wonders.) She adjusts, moving to sit up in bed; from what she knows of him, he'll be awake himself soon enough.
It's morning.
Veronica wakes from a dreamless sleep completely and fully, her eyes snapping open to take in the ceiling above her head. It's not the ceiling she was expecting, but it is a ceiling she knows: Milliways.
Okay. So. Inventory.
One set of pyjamas—her own, which is nice. Ten fingers and ten toes. Some vague memories of being taken to the infirmary which get especially blurry after the German guy asked about her medical history with opiates. And one throbbing, aching, holy-fuck-this-is-unpleasant shoulder wound.
Oh, and one Mills, sleeping in a chair. (Why the chair? she wonders.) She adjusts, moving to sit up in bed; from what she knows of him, he'll be awake himself soon enough.
