Now time for the regret.

Rick groaned and rolled over. He was in bed, and he felt fucking awful.

"Cath'rin?" he slurred into his pillow. "Y'up?"

A gravelly affirmative grunt from the living room, and another to "Hungover?" A beat passed before she spoke again.

"Made coffee."

"Does it feel different?" he asked, sweat beading on his clammy skin. He sipped the coffee gratefully and poked at a sunny-side up egg. "You know, being hungover?

Catherine was resting her head on her hands. "Mmf?" she asked groggily, though her eyes had been open and focused on him. "Oh. The hangover. Yeah, it does."

"How so?" Rick asked.

She stared at him and mouthed the words. How so? Her brow furrowed. "How so?" She blinked. "I... don't know. I don't know."

"Uh, you're definitely a little... spacier," he said.

She clumsily pushed herself up to a sitting position. "Spacier," she said. "Yeah. Uh, definitely. It took some real mental effort to make coffee."

"Catherine!" he said. She blinked, too sluggish to be surprised by his outburst. "Your coffee!"

"You like it?" she asked with a smile. He wasn't looking at her, though. He was looking at her arm, which was hot and wet. "Oh, I spilled my coffee. Oops!"

"Alright, no more drinking on drops," Rick said as he retrieved the paper towels.

"Aye-aye," she said with a clumsy salute. "Sorry 'bout the coffee, hon. I'm still a little..." What was the word? "Spacy."

"It's ok," Rick said as he wiped up her coffee. She was glad to see that the hangover seemed to be wearing off - her coffee and eggs must have worked. "No big deal. What do you wanna do next?"

Catherine belched. "Wanna finger me?" she asked lazily, leaning back in the chair. "That sounds like fun. Put these," she grabbed his fingers like a handful of sticks, "in here." She pointed between her legs.

Rick laughed. "You know what? Ok. Let me wash my hands first. Where do you want to do it?"

"Mmm... the couch," she said. "We can watch TV. Maybe you can turn on some porno or something. Oh, I just had an idea! You should show me your favorite porno!"

Rick returned from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishrag. He had already gotten used to her lack of a filter again. "You sure you wanna see it?"

She nodded emphatically. "Uh huh. For _sure_." She stood to move to the couch, but lost her balance and caught herself on the table. Suddenly the room seemed like an impossible gulf to cross and she sighed. "Gotta get to the couch," she muttered. "Gotta get over there to get... fingered."

"Need help?" Rick offered, but she waved him off impatiently. She laboriously righted herself, then closed one eye. A staggering step, then another, and suddenly Catherine felt herself falling forward onto their mid-century modern sectional. She lay facedown, thinking about how scratchy the cushion was, then flipped over to see Rick standing above her.

"My Richard..." she said dreamily. His pants were sticking out and she batted playfully at the bulge. "That's my Little Richard in there. Hi, li'l guy. I'm about to watch a special movie that helps you get bigger. It's called... what is it called?"

"Doesn't matter," Rick said quickly as he set his laptop in front of them on the coffee table. He raised her right leg and draped it across his lap, sitting next to her on the couch. Rick pulled up the browser and entered a URL. Catherine's eyes widened as much as they could when she saw the images, ads, and gifs that filled his screen.

"Oh my gosh!" she giggled drunkenly.