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Starting to move in her sleep, edging towards wakefulness. Brandon tried to concentrate on a memory of her. Any memory at all. Tried to find anything about her in which he could remember exactly what had happened the night before. He remembered being at the party. His fraternity had thrown yet another party. Were always throwing a party. The brothers were nothing if not consistent. And he’d sat there in the smoky room watching all those people. Like he was watching a movie. He’d watched the college kids and he’d watched the townies. They were dancing he’d decided. Not dancing, but dancing: an interaction, a way of relating. He’d sat there with his beer in one hand and his cigarette in the other. Whatever he’d taken from Joel earlier in the night had left him a visitor in his own flesh. Emotionless and void, bringing him face to face with himself. It was frightening. He’d known then what his problem was. That evening’s epiphany. He was so fucking bored. So unbelievably fucking bored.. However before he threw any punches he slumped back into the chair. "I know. She wasn't like that when we were first picked up. In fact she was hoping for assignment to a ship somewhere. I think she even planned on that from the start, but once we were picked up the ship that picked us up released both our pods and we found ourselves transferred to the Townhouse. I don't know the whole story after that because I was put to work in Fleet Readiness almost immediately. I did hear that Jennifer had a huge argument with a couple of commodores about three days after our arrival at the Townhouse and after that she basically refused to talk to any officer unless she had to. The only other story I remember was her fight in the bar when we were picked up." She got in a fight then?" I asked."Good lord, what a fight she got in," John said. "The trip to the bar that night included most of our friends. Jennifer's fiancée was with us and once the interdiction field lit up he started trying to give.
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