So you're now cooking for the entirety of your quad suite. Which isn't too bad, given that the other three roomies are warming up to you because of it, and the one that gave you the task seems to have accepted your repeated apologies over fresh pancakes. And it gives you a great excuse to make some big purchases down at the local grocery that caters to the island's other residents. So you get a great mess of honey one day with a broad collection of tea because clearly the tea drinkers in the room need some sweetener with their English Breakfast. Except they take sugar, and you know this, so now you've secured a good quantity of honey and squirreled it away in the back of a cabinet down near the bottom next to the sink. And you keep making food for them, and you start getting more adventurous with what you're making. So you pick up some flour and yeast to try making bread, and spend a good twenty minutes talking with the cute - though married - checkout lady about how to get it kneaded properly and about letting it rise. Except the flour gets eaten up by more pancakes, which Sarah keeps asking for as her pre-church Sunday breakfast (she mentions something about her dad doing pancakes every Sunday when she was at home).

And then you take that yeast and the appropriate food for it, and that whole big mess of honey, and you distribute the yeast evenly and the honey in varying quantities across some big empty glass bottles that you were saving in your room. And you fill the rest of the bottles with some of the bottled water that Rebecca keeps asking for and throw in some must and stir thoroughly so there's plenty of oxygen for the yeast to eat while it grows. And you hide your new little science experiment in your own room so that nobody can claim that the others knew about it if you get caught, but you're pretty sure you won't get caught, and they're all going to love it when you break out some celebratory mead on New Years so the four of you can properly ring in the new year.

And then one day you see the last person you want to ever see again, just at a distance, and your heart turns into an icy stone and falls into your stomach. And then she walks up to you and asks how you've been doing, that silver hair swaying slightly as she brushes it over an ear. At that moment you're screaming inside your own head, remembering the terrors visited upon you, remembering the pain and the shame and the cold that's growing from within this time instead of clawing its way through your skin.

So you make some small talk and run off to your next class and you sit there, shaking in the back of the room and not hearing the professor. You get free of that class and you run to your room and you try to think of something else, anything else. You bury yourself in coursework, drive music directly into your ears until you can't hear anything other than a faint ringing, and collapse on your bed for an awkward, hungry wank session.

And none of those made Christina's memories stop coming. So, still naked save the underwear and harness she'd been using to jerk off with in the hopes that having a cock on would act like a sort of armor against old pains, she reached for the only other thing that could make the pain stop. She slid the driest of the batches free of its hiding place and uncorked it, then stopped. She didn't want to be alone right now, but she couldn't imagine she could talk to her roomies about that night. She remembered a purple-haired woman that had been kind, and had tried to warn her.

Chris pulled on an enormous blue sweatshirt with "Cal" scrawled across it in yellow script that hung down to her knees, hid the bottle underneath it, and scampered down to the third floor common room. She sat on the couch, next to a peculiar purple stain, and regarded it fondly. It was exactly the friend she wanted right now. Then, she loosened the cap on the bottle with a soft hiss of escaping carbon dioxide and took a long pull. Then another, and another, trying to drown her mind in clawing mead.

---

Chris looked up suddenly. She couldn't remember dozing off, her entire body coiled under the sweater that was now pulled down to her ankles like a little tent, but she felt warm and cozy and drowsy. And drunk. She felt very, very drunk, which was a really pleasing thing at the moment. Her eyes tried to focus on the soft footsteps that had woken her up from her little nap, and her head swam slightly with the effort.

Anne was doing her rounds as normal, her footfalls echoing in the dark. It was beyond curfew and ironically her favourite time. The quiet, dark halls didn't fall silent like many students did nowadays as they saw her approach. In the silence of the empty halls she had time just to relax and be alone with her thoughts and she found that comforting. Nowadays it seemed that the only real social contact she had was with her Mistress... (and she did wish that they just chatted more than they did, but that was neither here nor there.) Few of the students really wanted to sit down and just talk with her about whatever the gossip happened to be, but, she supposed that that was nothing really new. It was probably a good thing she was a born loner, thus the solitude didn't get to her that much. It still would have been nice to have a few people that she could just sit down and talk to though on occasion though.

Sometimes she wondered how she had come to this. Prefect of a school. A position of power, however limited where other students looked up to her, or at least she thought they did! They certainly went out of their way to obey her when she asked for something to happen. It seemed like Vera's lessons really did work! She hadn't actually had to bring a single problem to Vera once so far, every small infraction being corrected on the spot without any problem.

What was she becoming was a common question for Anne. She could clearly see herself as she was, which was a far cry from what she was now. Her Vera... Her Mistress had fulfilled her side of the bargain flawlessly and she found that she wasn't afraid any more. She carried herself with a confidence and a pride in herself that she never believed was there and the old her would have merely said "acting like that just makes you a target". As she found out, the old her was wrong, as it also made the people that would normally use you as a target actually follow. Why... she wasn't sure but she did enjoy the reversal.

Still, she actually enjoyed keeping other students out of trouble, as much as she also enjoyed the element of power over them... She hadn't had any trouble from any bullying in some time now, each of the people that used to give her a hard time leaving her well alone and never giving her even the slightest need to talk to them. In a way, it was almost a shame, especially as she could actually turn the tables on them which would no doubt give her a certain amount of pleasure... But it seemed like a bit of a nasty thing to do. As long as they behaved now, she was content.

This night she was making her usual rounds throughout the dorms, and had just quietly entered the 3rd floor common room. The lights were dimmed, giving the room a calm, peaceful look and feel. With the lack of light she almost missed the supine form of a student lying down on couch. She looked... drunk?

Now THAT was a surprise! Where had a student even managed to get alcohol from! As she stepped closer she could see the empty bottle clutched against her chest like a protective symbol and it made her wonder what had happened that had made a student get drunk all on her own at this time of night. It was unlikely she had gotten drunk with friends, after all she would be in her room with them, or any real friend would have gotten her back to her dorm safe and sound rather than leaving her. A cursory glance around confirmed that the only two people her were Anne and this other.

*Ahem*

Anne cleared her throat, standing over the supine student. Her lips quirked in a smile at the bleary, out of focus look that she was being given.

Vera had been quite clear in her instruction of school rules and her duties, and this student was having a feild day breaking them. Breach of curfew, possession of alcohol. Consumption of alcohol. Being drunk. Improper attire. And that was before she even woke up!

Her lips quirked at the thought of what her Vera would do to the student if she caught her like this! As the unknown student focused Anne quietly stood, her arms folded, waiting for some sort of recognition. As she got it she simply said "Good evening Miss...?"

Chris pushed herself up on one unsteady arm and tried again to focus on this new presence. Oh, now she looked familiar. Chris smiled wolfishly for a heartbeat before Anne finished speaking.

"Mizzzz Davis," she said, putting way too much emphasis on the subtle difference, "but ya can call me Chrish. Chrishtina. Chrisss." Christina's head swam as she finally sat up fully. Why was the cute little wallflower wearing a sash and sounding all bossy? Something'd changed about the girl Chris had been eyeing her first few days on campus in the halls between classes. Someone had mentioned something about her, but Chris couldn't remember who or what. At the moment, she was, in fact, having trouble remembering why she was alone on a couch with a weird stain on one of the cushions. Her head swung back around and took another moment to refocus on Anne. "You want somefin' to drink?" Chris offered, holding the bottle out and suddenly realizing that it was empty. "Shit, someun drank it all. Too dry anyway. I gotsh more in my-" Her words cut off as she stood up and the alcohol momentarily threatened to dump her onto the floor in an unseemly heap. Chris stumbled once and caught herself on Anne, then turned and smiled at the younger woman. "Yer fuggin' cute, yanno that? Let'sh go t' my room. I got shum real sweeeet shtuff for ya." Now that she was standing, the silicone dick was straining slightly against Christina's sweatshirt, poking out into the air awkwardly. "I'll treatsh ya reeeeaaaal good. We shoul' be frien's." Chris seemed mostly interested in pushing Anne down towards the hallway as she spoke, the bottle dangling in her other hand as she leaned on the prefect for support, and not so much in anything the poor girl might have to say on the matter.

Alcohol was very difficult to come by at Shokushu, it being a prohibitied substance in addition to the fact that the school was on an island and it wasn't sold anywhere. Of course on occasion enterprising students started to make their own, be it for their own enjoyment or profit, or sometimes other reasons. In the end it made little difference and such little enterprises were shut down once found.

This was known among even the new students, let alone someone that had been here some time and it really made Anne curious as to what would drive a student to get so drunk that they not only admitted to drinking to a Prefect, but that there was more back at her dorm! At least it made her job the easier. She smiled, a wry flash of the teeth. Hadn't she just been thinking about other students trusting her and being able to talk to her?

Her legs bowed slightly as this "Mizz Davis" cannoned into her, forcing her to brace to stop falling over herself. As she put a arm around the students back, supporting her she caught sight of the most odd tenting of her tee, as if there as a cock there straining to get out. Curiouser and curiouser! What the hell did this woman have up there?

As Anne allowed herself to be guided towards (what she assumed) would be Christina's dorm she ignored the almost constant barrage of rather blatant innuendo. She may have found it flattering if Chris wasn't so out of her mind drunk. As it was she just let it slide off her back, concentrating on keeping Chris upright.

"So then Mizz Davis" She interjected when a moment of silence brought on by Chris lurching to one side, almost overbalancing herself. "Why are you getting drunk in the common room? School getting you down?" She said the last with a chuckle in her voice, trying to be friendly, seeing what the drunk student would tell her freely.

((Mizz is usually abbreviated Ms. as a heads up. Chris is just really slurry right now))

Christina's feet came to a lurching halt at Anne's questions. Now she remembered. Her head swung over to look warily at Anne.

"It'sh tha'... tha' fuggin'... Massumoto chick," she slurred, her body slumping away from Anne and into the wall with a soft thud. "She... she... fuhg," Chris said, digging the palm of her hand into her face as color welled up in her cheeks. All the swagger from a moment ago was gone, all the confidence, was gone in a heartbeat of memory she'd tried to bury surging up again. She took a sudden hold of Anne's shoulder, the fear and tears vanishing into just a hint of color and a bleariness to Christina's eyes.

"You needta get away fruh her," Chris said flatly, her head still lolling slightly with the intoxicants overriding her system. "She's a fuggin' rapish." Chris was trying very hard to be serious, though it was difficult when her mouth didn't want to work right. "She... she..."

Chris shook her head and pushed off the wall with her other arm. "It'sh okay, though. I'll look aftah ya," Chris said as she bent in, trying to mask her pain with a flirty smile. "C'mon, let'sh get you a drink." Her other hand unconsciously let the empty bottle drop to the floor before it fished around in the big blue sweatshirt for a room key. It took a couple of tries and releasing Anne completely to hold and feel at the lock with a thumb to get the key into the first lock, and then a short, stumbly walk through a dark kitchenette to get to the door that had just Christina's name on it. Another soft curses and a minute of more fumbling, and Chris stepped through into her messy room and promptly fell face-first into her bed. Past her, the regular array of toys and sex supplies were laid out messily on the dresser. Chris shoved herself up on one arm and waved her other hand at her desk.

"There'sh moar under th' deshk. Get shum out 'n hop 'n bed, cutie," Chris slurred. She turned a bit too far and fell onto her back. The sweater had ridden up higher, and the shaft she was wearing sprang out into the air.

The door, set as it was on automatic hinges, pushed itself gently shut with a soft click, promising that the other three wouldn't be able to hear what was about to transpire.

((Sorry! That was an attempt at emphasising it in her own mind and voice I failed ))

Vera? What had her Mistress done to this girl to get such a reaction? Well aware at just how hard and demanding she could be Anne was still awed by just how deep she could strike to get such a reaction. Even knowing HOW such things were done didn't dilute the respect that Anne held for her, although she did wish she didn't employ such things as brutally as she sometimes did. But then again, given how busy she was and how hard she worked, it was really no surprise. You didn't want to have to cover the old ground again and again and she did so hate repeating herself!

But still... Rapist? Granted... her techniques tended to be sexual in the extreme... But the times she had watched (with admitted jealously sometimes!) its was normally the subjects own resistance that caused any harshness... You only had a problem with her if you didn't obey. As for the implied insult, Vera had taught her well that everyone was entiled to their own opinions, which shouldn't matter to anyone but who held that opinion.

She mused as she carried on hefting Christina along the corridor, surpressing a chuckle at "being looked after." The only thing this student was going to do when in her room was sleep, and after a quick chastisement and her supply of alchol being confiscated that should be the end of it. She hoped.

Finally arriving at the students dorm (Grad student by area. Hm. She felt like she should have guessed!) She once again picked up the completely plastered Chris after she managed to unlock the door and allowed herself to be led towards her bedroom. As Chris stepped into the room away from Annes supporting weight she stumbled and fell straight onto the bed. Anne grinned, amused. Perhaps she should be videoing this! It was actually highly comical, and she found that she was rather enjoying watching her antics.

Checking to see that the door was closing softly on its own she turned up the light a little, not enough to blind the poor drunkard but enough to see clearly. Her eyes widended as she saw what had been creating that interesting tent in Chris's pants. A cock? A fake, plastic penis held on by some sort of harness? Dear god! What was a student wearing something like that for! Such things weren't prohibited as long as it was kept private but wearing something like that in public under just a tee... What had gotten into this woman!? Shaking her head at the impressive set of phallic devices on the table (and wondering how the hell she managed to get them all! It was like a small forest of them... What did someone need that amount of fake cocks for?) she ducked down, looking for the stash of bottles. They weren't well hidden and seemed to be all unlabled and all full, just against the wall under the desk. Shaking her head sadly at the amount of there she picked one up, uncorked it and took a sniff. Blinking as her eyes suddenly teared at the potent smell she thought how drunk you could get on this stuff. With half a dozen full bottles of alcohol she could easilly get a fair few students drunk and with that cock...

Hmm.

Turning to the student who had just about managed to sit up, that cock strapped to her still peaking out from the edge of her rumpled tee, Anne perched on the side of the bed a bottle in her hand, looking at Chris. It was a shame really but she had a job to do after all. For a moment she considered looming over her and using her voice to punch her way straight through that alcohol but she didn't want to upset Chris. Despite everything she had done wrong so far she hadn't hurt anyone else and looked like she was running from her own demons as Anne had once done, and as such she didn't want to add to them. Waiting a second for Chris to focus on her, Anne started speaking before Chris opened her mouth.

"So, tell me where you got all this mead then Christina?" She said, a soft smile still on her features. Be warm, be inviting. Let her open up to you. "You do know that I can't let you have it all despite how much you think you need it. It will only hurt you in the end... Instead why don't you tell me why you are so upset? I'ld love to help you if you let me."

After all, just as it was with Vera's, part of Anne's job was to help the other students where possible, and this one did so look like she needed someone to talk too. She just hoped she was wrong about the function of alcohol and the presense of a strapon.

((No worries. I've run into people who don't know, so I wanted to be sure ^.^;; ))

The drunken student swayed slightly and tried to focus on the questions. She opened her mouth to answer them, shut it again, tapped her chin, and realized she needed to deal with them one at a time.

"Made it. Made th' mead, heh," Chris said, a self-satisfied smile plastered across her face. "You got a cute accent." Her mouth wasn't listening too good to the more organized and serious part of her brain. Or maybe she didn't want to think about the second question. She thought about the statement between instead for now. That and lying down with an arm over her eyes so the room would stop spinning so much. "I washn' gunna keep it ta mahshelf," Chris said. The arm across her eyes was doing wonders for keeping the bed still. "I wash gunna share with frien's. It wash gunna be a shurprise." She took a slow, shuddery breath and let her mind step forward. "Then th' shilvery lady ran inta me t'day and tried'ta play it off li'e wha' she did wash jusht punishmen'." Christina's body started shaking just slightly. "Li'e, li'e her puttin' tha' thing in me wash jusht to ma'e me behave. An' I really din' mean ta' upshet Sharah." The words paused just long enough for a little sob. "An' I been tryin' ta make it up ta her an' everyone an' I wash gunna share and we wash gunna bon' an' then I couldn' handle sheein' her an'." Chris cut her words off and slid her arm away from wet eyes. She sniffed once, hard, to clear her nose and looked up at Anne.

"An' it'sh jush' me bein' shtupid an' I shoul' geh ovah it." Chris put her arm back over her eyes and took another slow, shuddering breath, trying to calm herself. "Shi', I'm an awful hosht. Didja try shome?" she said, peeking out from under her arm curiously.

Smiling warmly Anne nodded. Although it did seem a bit hypocritical, complaining about "putting that thing in her" given the wide array of (she imagined) similar "things" that were lying around, not at least the one attached to Christinas her own privates, she did sympathise, if not for what had happened to her, but at least to how she was feeling.

However, that was neither here nor there. Rules were broken and now she had learnt everything she needed to hear Anne did have a job to do. The only problem was how... There was little to be gained in reprimanding her or any form of punishment right now. Christina was drunk, tired, emotional and it seemed rather horny and she guessed that any reprimands or corrections she did would be lost on the student right now.

Still smiling Anne bent, placing the bottle on the floor and drew out a hanky from her breast pocket, passing it to sniffling student, letting her dab her eyes and blow her nose before starting to speak.

"You're a fine host Christina. If you weren't quite as drunk I would imagine you would be the life of the party. But unfortunately you are, and a good nights sleep will do you the power of good" Her voice remained soft, her smile warm as she spoke. "We can have a chat about the mead and your planned party tomorrow if you would like but for now I think it would be a good idea if you got some sleep."

"Chrisss," the drunken woman corrected softly, "pleash. The profsh call me Chrishtina." The arm slid away to let one eye peer out from under the arm. "Unlesh yer a li'le prof. Heh. Li'l prof." She smiled at her own joke, letting the alcohol help her forget. Forgetting was good right now. She just nodded to Anne's other words. Sleep would be good. Oh, but wait.

A weak hand closed softly over Anne's wrist. Chris looked up at her pleadingly.

"Shtay?" Chris had rolled onto her side to keep a light hold of the prefect. "I dun wanna be alone. An' yer nish." Her other hand fumbled for a bit and awkwardly wrenched the pink phallus out of the harness, then lobbed it onto the shelf with the others. "Shee, I even gotsh whishkey dick, sho it'sh jusht cuddles." Chris smiled up at Anne. Even this far gone in alcohol and depression and sleep deprivation, her face remembered the right way to make the sincere, warm, and bashful expression that had melted dozens of hearts prior. It was at slightly the wrong angle, though, and her eyes were having trouble focusing.

It was cute. Rather heartwarmingly cute really! The light touch on the wrist, the wonderful bashful look… Even taking off her cock for you… It was what she could only define a gallant gesture! For all of her years running, hiding, being afraid of so much and now she had the confidence in herself thanks to Vera she had a woman openly propositioning her. The things she had to thank Vera for did seem to be endless!

Unfortunately for Chris though, cuddles weren’t really an option. She was on duty after all and while the prospect of cuddling another student to sleep certain had an appeal, it wasn’t something she could do or even something that was a good idea in her mind. She was a Prefect. Vera had made it quite clear that for people to respect you they also had to look up to you. Cuddling a student to help wouldn’t really help with the entire looking up to thing.

It was a shame, she thought with a small inward sigh. A cuddle would actually be rather nice! Heavens, she wished she could get more from her Vera, but that was a different matter. Work first, pleasure later when she could get it! Taking Chris’ hand she gently placed it on the bed and stepped back.

“Thank you Chris." The words were entirely heartfelt. It seemed she really had a soft spot for the drunken student and her woes. But that didn't change her decision. "I appreciate your whisky dick” Anne said, her lips quirking upwards showing the amusement at that act of gallantry and the title of “little prof”

“But you know I can’t just cuddle you to sleep. You are a big girl and you’ll sleep just fine without me! I’m going to drop by tomorrow morning when you’re awake and we’ll have that chat then.”

Hopefully, if she managed to wake up before and remember the rules she would have disposed of the alcohol and sorted herself out, leaving nothing further to do. Perhaps not as efficient as enacting a punishment straight away, taking the mead and dealing with it all just throwing her to bed, taking the mead and writing her up there and then, but Anne didn’t quite have the heart to do something like that and put the already depressed and hurting student through yet more agro. At least this way she had a chance to correct her own mistake, and nothing more would need to be said.

"'Kaayy," Chris agreed, wobbling slightly as she forced herself up to a sitting position. "We can do breakfasht." She grinned like an idiot and leaned forward, eyebrows wagging suggestively. "It'll be like a one-nigh' shtand, exshept no shleepin' together." She giggled and watched Anne go, then wobbled onto her feet. Something about the words 'big girl' had reminded her what really needed doing right now. She dug out a bottle of headache meds, slammed down a small palmful of them, and unstopped an aluminum water bottle to empty its contents down her throat. Then, still wobbling, she pulled the little plastic waste bin out from under her desk and settled it beside her bed. With those important responsibilities handled, she fumbled her way awkwardly out of the sweater, climbed under the covers, and promptly stopped dealing with reality.

---

Chris woke before dawn. She felt a heave coming on, and bent over the plastic bin to discover that she'd apparently already emptied her stomach. Including at least two easily identifiable white tablets. Which was probably why her head felt like someone had driven nails into it. And then electrified the nails. With bees. Her stomach was pretty insistent on trying to empty itself again, though, so she gave it the old college try and ended up bringing up nothing but awful noises and a bit of stomach acid.

Something was pinching at her thighs. She'd slept in the harness. It wasn't meant to be slept in. She pulled it off gingerly and made a sad face at the red marks in her skin. She poked them carefully, realized that wasn't helping, and fumbled her way back into the sweater. It smelled a little like alcohol from where someone had apparently spilled a bit, possibly while cradling an almost-empty bottle to her chest.

Alcohol. Fuck. She went down onto her knees and dug around into her hiding place. The bottles were there. When did Anne say she'd be back? Morning? Morning wasn't specific. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Her mind started trying to form some sort of plan. She couldn't go downstairs again. She wouldn't. They'd have to drag her kicking and screaming. They'd have to prove it. That was it! Destroy the evidence! She scooped up the bottles in her arms and stumbled out into the kitchen, propping her door open with a chair. She had two of them emptying in the sink when she realized she was wasting alcohol. Alcohol she'd spent a shitload of time making. She took a pull of the third bottle, stared at it, took one more mouthful on the principle that the hair of the dog was good for ya, then bid a sad farewell to her project.

Shit, just pouring this stuff down the sink wouldn't do it. She needed a lie. And for the heater that just clicked on to prepare the common area for human occupation to be a hell of a lot less loud. And holy shit who made the sun so bright today? Fuck. Sun. Rebecca would be up soon. The bottles were empty, at least. She transferred them into the mostly-full, very small dishwasher, spilled soap over most of the inside of the door, figured that was good enough, and set it running. No evidence. Evidence destroyed. The perfect crime. Oh fuck her head hurt.

Breafasht. Er, breakfast. Moving sucked right now. Get it done quick, climb back into bed, forget reality exists. Good plan. Okay. There was still leftover pancake batter in the fridge from yesterday. Throw in a can of blueberries (so no one has any excuses about there not being syrup), fire up the stove, and fuck, that one's burned, screw it, keep going. Rebecca paused to stare at the disheveled creature inhabiting her kitchen on her way out for a morning run, got a whiff of the cooking food, and called it a good deal in the end. The door closing behind her snapped Chris out of her cooking revelry for a moment. The sun was fully above the horizon, and that hair was doing its job by making it not hurt so bad to look at the glowing ball of misery. She turned back and frowned at the uneven blob of batter, then gingerly went about flipping it.

Anne wasn't an early riser by nature. Thus it was a little late when she got up, stretching in the double bed in the single dorm that her position as a prefect gave her. Checking her schedule she saw that she had her meeting with Ms Davis first thing and no classes until the afternoon. Smiling softly to herself the thought that this probably worked out quite well. While she didn’t oversleep she would happily place money that Chris would and she hadn’t changed her mind about hoping that there was nothing else to do aside from check. Although, given the time and effort that must have gone into making the mead it was a shame that it would have to be destroyed. Rules were rules however and she wasn’t about to go up against her Mistress on such a thing!

Dressed impeccably as always, her navy blue sash hanging from her hips she walked towards Chris’s dorm. Her hand was just raising to knock on the door when it opened of its own accord, the students face moving rapidly into a surprised look, then just as rapidly into one of nervousness. To Annes eyes the student looked like she was off for a jog.

Not letting her recover Anne simply said, quietly “I’m here to see Chris. May I come in?” Wordlessly she stepped back in offering entrance to Anne who obliged, stepping in with a bright smile and a quiet “Thank you”.

Rebecca didn’t stop to ask any more when it was obvious that she wasn’t the point of the visit and, despite any curiosity she may have had regarding an unannounced visit from a prefect, she slipped out of the door leaving Anne alone with the sounds and smells of cooking. Quietly she paced towards them, stopping in the door frame, taking a look at the disheveled student who was just looking out at the sun. From behind she looked like she had only just woken up, her hair spiked like a lunatic barber had set about it.

Before she turned around Anne lifted a hand and rapped loudly on the doorframe loud enough to be heard over the sizzling of pancakes.

“Good Morning Chris” Anne said, her smile remaining relaxed and friendly. “Feeling better this morning?”

Chris ignored whoever it was Rebecca was talking to out in the hall, focused completely on the pancakes in front of her. Already there was a small stack of burned and otherwise irregular cakes off to one side, and she didn't have the batter to spare on other accidents. Which is why she jumped nearly a foot in the air when Anne spoke up behind her. Chris spun around, looking for a moment like a cornered animal, and slowly relaxed when she realized what had happened. Her cheeks were flushed and the sound of her heart pounding in her ears hurt.

"Goddess, you scared the fuck out of me," Christina said, putting one hand over her chest as if to calm herself further. She brought her breathing back down and let out a final sigh. "T' be honest, I'd rather crawl back inta a bottle," Chris said, turning back to flip the pancake behind her, "but I guess that ain't happenin'. My head hella hurts, and my mouth tastes like old puke, so I guess trying to woo you with kisses is out." The pancake came up out of the pan and shuffled off the spatula sadly onto a short stack of its brethren beside the stove. "Have a couple pancakes. More'n enough to share. And take a seat." Chris gestured vaguely to the table behind and to her right. "I'm almost done. Figures I get in trouble while still being punished for the last thing I did wrong." Chris poured out another pancake, cursed softly as a glob of batter spilled beside the pan and started to harden from the indirect heat, and shifted so she could watch Anne and her cooking without turning too far. "Before you say anything, turns out the soda I was trying to make went a little bad on me. Too much yeast, I guess." There was a hardness around Christina's red, tired eyes. It was an awful lie, but the kind that came with a challenge to call her on it. "So I threw it out. Sorry f'r the trouble last night."

Annes smile was genuine as she waited for Chris to get her heart under control. Perhaps she should have called out but she had to admit, she rather enjoyed that reaction!

She stayed quiet, listening to Chris. Once again there was that offer of kisses... It made her chuckle inwardly once again, for much the same reason as before. She didn't let it get to her face though, just maintaining that same warm smile as she sat in the offered seat. She didn't want to give this decidedly frisky fellow student the wrong idea!

She had already eaten so the food wasn't needed, but she wasn't going to turn down pancakes! It had been far too long since she had eaten pancakes and they smelt entirely gorgeous! Faaar too nice to leave!

"Thank you" Anne said as she ate, slowly, still listening to Chris' words. Given that Chris was hungover she still knew how to make a damned good pancake. The plain batter mixed perfectly into the juice from the blueberries and she shut her eyes briefly savouring it, although still keeping her ears open. It was a wonderful story and she knew damned well that it was a lie, especially as the she had been told the truth earlier. Still, it was plausible and she had absolutely no problems in letting it slide. It seemed that everything would go swimmingly.

"Well... Theres no crime of getting the mixes wrong when making something" Anne said, her smile creasing upwards a little further, creasing her cheeks "If there was then the entire science department would be on perpetual report!"

"I do just have to check that you've cleaned out the bottles though. You understand that failed experiments need to be cleaned up properly and I really really wouldn't want you to get into any more trouble with anyone else, especially not for a simple mistake. And don't worry, you weren't any trouble last night. If you were I wouldn't be sat here enjoying your finely made pancakes"

As she spoke she found she liked the older student. She had no reason not to believe that she had disposed of the illict alcohol and she was entirely honest in her reasoning of checking. She remembered how distraught Chris was last night and wanted to make sure that there was nothing else she was going to get into trouble for.

Chris sighed, resigned, and stepped away from the stove long enough to pop open the dishwasher. Steam poured out, drawing a gravelly curse from the hungover woman's throat like an old key from a sewer drain. She waved a cloud of the stinging heat off and coughed slightly, then half-stumbled back to the stove and turned the just-slightly-too-dark pancake over groggily. As the puff of water vapor cleared, the bottles from last night became visible mingled in with the other dishes.

"They're in there," Chris mumbled redundantly as she tossed the pancake onto the stack with the others. She picked up the pitcher of batter, frowned at it being empty, and set it back down. With a small shrug, she served up a pair of pancakes for herself and took a seat across from Anne, eating them without butter, syrup, or utensils. "Sho anyfing elfe I can do f'rr yuh, er can I g' bahk t' shleef," Chris said through a mouthful of bread and berries. Her eyes were bloodshot as they settled on the prefect's, and exhaustion oozed from her pores to complement the old sweat and the faint stink of general unwashedness that hovered around Chris that morning.

Dear fucking Goddess did she just want to go back to sleep.