Molly was sitting on her own bed, trying to get the constant input under control. The walk back to the bunker had allowed her to acclimate to it a bit slower, not just suddenly assaulted. Although the novelty of touching steel had been a thrill, it had faded really quickly.
And the fact that she could FEEL Jack and Ripley going at it like furless bunnies was so not helping. Not when you hadn’t had sex in ten years and couldn't recall half of that.
The sudden lurching moments ago and finding herself once more feeling the magic was glorious… only to have it ripped away once more.
Something flashed brighter in her mind than the rest of the flood. SHIT!
This wasn’t good. For the thousandth time she wondered how River lived like this. Knowing that telling anyone was going to get her nowhere, Molly started out into the hall to find some extra linins and the big sewing kit she’d found. They’d come in handy.