Jack awoke to a pounding headache, an empty space besides him and the unmistakable sound of Sam vomiting from the bathroom.
“Sam honey,” he called, not even attempting to raise his head from the pillow. The only reply was more retching.
Rolling off the bed with a groan, he shielded his eyes from the light streaming in through the open bedroom windows. Dragging a T-shirt over his head to supplement the boxers he had left on the previous night, he grabbed Sam’s robe from the back of the door. He headed into the en-suite, where a blonde head was leaning over the toilet seat and placed the thin silk over bare shoulders. Jack rubbed her back comfortingly, while Sam continued to dry heave for another few minutes.
“Finished?” Jack asked, trying to ignore his own nausea as he helped her stand and they headed towards the stairs. “You’re hardly ever sick. Did we drink that much last night? I can’t remember.”
“I’m fine – it’s just a hangover,” Sam assured him as they reached the bottom of the stairs, trying to ignore the churning in her stomach despite the fact that it was empty. She was light-headed, and believed that the sooner she took some painkillers the better, although the thought of swallowing them was none too pleasant.
“Maybe you should see the doctor?” Jack suggested, as he paused briefly inside the living room door, leaning slightly to keep his balance.
“The doctor will only see people with appointments.” An equally hungover and bleary-eyed Janet Fraiser, MD, told them, sticking her tousled head over the top of the sofa where she had collapsed on Daniel the previous night. “Oh my head.”
Jack grinned as the petite doctor struggled to sit up, his grin growing wider as he heard groans coming from Daniel. If he felt this bad, he could only hazard a guess as to the younger man’s state. It must have been a good night out, he decided. And one they had certainly deserved!