Lord, when was the last time I ever wrote anything? Oh, right. I was busy. Not so much on other things than it is other projects. Some of which demand more attention than others. This here's just a simple exercise to get me back in the game.

If you're in the mood to seeing something in particular be written or updated (I can not stress 'updated' enough), give me a nod as quick as possible and I'll see what I can do. Cheers. Also, it never hurts to review.

Word Count: 682 words.

Let's Plot a Course

It's a tranquil kind of setting, with warm sunshine gleaming into the room and a sweet scent of satisfaction lingering in the air.

Serena groans to the sound of birds chirping just outside of the window. Fletchlings, to be exact. She knows they don't mean it, being overly loud and obnoxious with their peeps, they're just behaving like any avian would.

Damn if it isn't headache-inducing though, especially so early in the morning.

"Hn..."

With her eyes still adjusting to their surroundings, Serena attempts to reconstruct the events of the previous night, but her mind is just as hazy as her vision. The details are fuzzy, none of them concrete, it all flows through her mind in a bewildering blur.

In fact, the only thing she is sure of is how comfortable her plush is right now. It's a Froakie, she goes to bed with it every night, she's a bit too old to be doing it but she doesn't care. It's cute, fluffy and soft as hell.

'Actually..'

The girl pauses without warning. As the seconds go by, her mind regains self-awareness, and it registers that something about all of this isn't quite within the norm. Her amphibian acquaintance isn't feeling as stuffed as it should.

As a matter of fact, it feels quite warm, slightly-chiseled and much lankier than it should be. Still at a loss, Serena gives the plush a little squeeze.

It unconsciously squeezes back.

'Wait...'

Her eyes snap open in a fit of shock and realization, but all she sees is a faceful of chest and the almost-mockingly smug smile of a sleeping, naked, pretty boy twink.

'Aww crap.'

It sinks in.

Serena almost falls out of bed.

Fully conscious, she quivers with a horrified gasp as she sees, right before her eyes, her one and only mook of a rival. Initial attempts to escape his hold are futile, their arms and legs are intertwined, and he refuses to budge.

She almost considers giving him a good smack (he deserves it), but then decides against it. Instead, she takes a deep breath, and once again attempts to recollect yesterday's details.

'Did we really..?'

Pause.

'Oh right, we did.'

'Stupid champ..'

Serena takes another deep breath, and then another, and then one more because she is convinced that he just got a lucky break. While doing this, her eyes scan the room and she discovers that it's in no better condition.

Clothes are everywhere. Littering the floor are shirts, hats, shoes,t, essentially the whole trunk and everything in-between. Perhaps the most asinine of them all are the undergarments hanging off the doorknob, or maybe the lone thigh-high dangling off the bedside lamp.

Even more bizarre is that she feels the other one is still on her.

With some luck of her own, Serena manages to slip out of his loving embrace without waking him. Letting out a sigh of relief, she sits up and rubs her ailing head, now facing the bedside clock.

'Huh.. Not as early as I thought..'

An indecent wonder begins to fill her thoughts, just how long were they at it, she can't help but question.

Shivering again, she dashes the thought aside. It's done and over with now, there's nothing to do but look ahead and sugarcoat it as a reward that got far too out of hand.

'Gotta get dressed.. and maybe take a shower too.'

Yawning, Serena places a foot on the floor and initially retracts it because of how cold it is. She adjusts to it though and soon stands up, ready to start the day on a more-than-awkward note.

"Aah!"

She only takes a single step before her legs unexpectedly give way, suddenly faced with an unbearable soreness. It's enough to wake him up and by the time she turns around, she sees him, propped up by his elbow with that same snigger of a grin on his face.

"Are you kidding?" he asks, "I told you not to walk after getting up. Pfft."

Calem is not quick enough to dodge the Froakie thrown at him moments afterward.