He washes his face with icy cold water, gasping and shivering as his senses fully awaken and the previous night comes back to him in a flood. And at that, his lips twitch and a low chuckle to himself echoes off the porcelain sink. Combing his fingers through his hair, he regards his dripping reflection in the mirror for a moment before noticing a small red welt on the side of his throat.

Well. At least the guys at the firehouse will know he got some without having to ask.

After drying off his face, he emerges from the bathroom. He goes to the bed and shakes out the rumpled sheets in search of his t-shirt, eventually fishing it out from between the folds, before he approaches Kate at the table.

"How're you doin'?"