The morning after a decent drinking session always hurt. It hurt from the moment before you opened your eyes. The moment during and the moment after. It was comforting, that hurt. Familiar. Like a companion that was always at your side. Some would say that Nash drank too much, Nash would tell them to shut their mouth.

Nash would also then roll out of bed and regret that drinking, only for a moment though. It was a curse, he thought, in how he always woke up early no matter how much he drank. It was part of his routine to be honest. Nash would drink till he fell asleep and then wake up early, carrying a breakfast hangover before he started his shift in Engineering, previously as the ships Tactical Officer. His drinking never affected his work, another curse of his that despite the drink, his routine was solid and worked.

A quick shower and then hitting the gym early, before he began work every morning. Coffee and a few head clearing pills he picked up on leave from Risa when he visited meant that by the time he arrived for his workout his head was relatively clear again and the booze on his sweat was washed away by the shower. Today though, Nash paused and looked in the mirror. His tale of how he met his wife, as told to Lauren the previous night, had brought back a lot of memories for him.

Today was going to be hard, he knew it. He looked older, the Nash his wife knew was still there, the athletic body of a runner remained, albeit more solid around the shoulders now from working out in a more stationary setup. Now there were lines were there hadn’t been, lines his wife would never run her fingers over and comment on how dignified he looked, while snickering that he was getting old. He closed his eyes, maybe for minutes, he couldn’t tell.

His gym bag sat by the door to his quarters, always ready and he simply took hold of the handle as he walked out, leaving his door unlocked. He never locked it, if someone was stupid enough to disturb Nash without good reason or take anything, there was nowhere to hide on the Atlantis that he wouldn’t find them. He had time, a solid workout, another shower and coffee, maybe another few pills to help that head. Damn but he and Lauren had put through at least a couple of bottles of hard liquor between them while the tale was told.

Nash