[Two]

@memorstan; voice

[Her voice is quiet, deceptively calm, low. Those that know her may hear the tightness, the just audible concern as she speaks, carefully soft and slow.] I don't suppose anyone else is still up?

[Three]

[Still hands, steady nerves, being at the top of her game--all are requirements of her profession. But her hands are shaking, something prickles under her skin, unnatural and unnerving. Something is crawling, from her fingers and up her arm, tip-toeing across her chest, skittering down her spine and all the way to her toes. She feels sick, her heart fluttering in her chest. Something is climbing up her throat, and she can barely breathe for it.

Brown eyes look up, holding both hands in front of her. They shake. She shivers, the way she had when nausea had kept her awake all hours of the night.]

I think I'm going to get settled early.

[Four]

[It takes just a second, just a moment for her to process. Then she turns, reaches for her traveling partner's hand, and grabs it tightly, breaking into a sprint.]

Run! I have an idea!