During breakfast, Danica threaded through a magazine. Nothing that she was interested in, but in Arkham, she had to come up with some new hobbies. Sober hobbies. Every now and again, she consented to the idea that sobriety was making her miserable; but every day she would remember that Oh, that's right, I'm in a fucking loony bin, and that's why she felt like she was going to throw herself out of a window somehow or another.

However, the idea of dropping back into a drug-induced oblivion or dropping literally anywhere from a 16-story building had been pushed aside since she and Jerome had their illicit affair in her bedroom.

Most dry drunks fill their days with a substitution of anything that could give them that euphoria that they experienced while using or drinking.
Danica smiled, recognizing that she had found something just like that to stop any ideas like that.

As if her thoughts had procured him, Jerome sat beside her, plopping into the chair.
"Good morning, Kitten," he greeted her, still wearing that smile on his face as he always did. He stayed upbeat, no matter the situation.

"I suppose it is a good one," Danica returned, flipping through the magazine.

Jerome set a hand between the pages, and he pulled the magazine out of her hands. Danica met his eye.

"What's with the long face?" he asked. "Is it because I had to climb back though your vent? You know, usually I'm not a 'Boom, Bam, Thank You Ma'am' sort of guy, but...it is Arkham."

Danica smiled, "No, it's not that."

Jerome bit the inside of his cheek in mocked, playful thought.
"Oh," he beamed. "I know."

Danica's attention turned to his hands where he put them together and then with a showman's gesture of a magician, he conjured a pair of white, cotton underwear—

"Jerome," Danica said, though not surprised, swiping her underwear from his hands. He let her take them, and he shrugged.

"Babe, I couldn't help myself." His tone, again, was mocked concern and apologetic. He grinned at her. "Had to have a reminder."

"When did you take these?"

"Not your business," he resigned.

"Well, dear, I wasn't upset about that; but thank you for returning them to me."

"I wish I had known that you were upset about something else. I could have kept them." A look from Danica, and he resumed, "*Just being honest*."

"I'm bored," she confessed.

Jerome raised an eyebrow and checked the time and said,
"Well, we could go to the group shower if you like. I'm up for round two."

Danica rolled her eyes.

"I'm not talking about you," she explained. "I need a hobby."

Jerome nodded, "Right, that's why I suggested the whole bathroom thing. Did you not catch that part or...?"

"What do you do to fill up that time?" Danica asked. "Surely you don't make a habit of..."

"Picking up older women and sneaking into their rooms at night? Not anymore." Jerome said.

Danica didn't know if he was joking or if he was serious. Either way, what could she say to that?

Jerome leaned in to her personal space, and smirked at her,
"You know what, Danica? You're bored because you haven't found something to fill up your time. And reading your Rich People magazines isn't going to do squat—" he threw the magazine on to the floor and replaced it by sitting on the table in front of her. "See, babe, you need me to 'fill the hole', figuratively speaking..."

He shrugged. "Well, literally too.." Wink. "So, if you want something to do, you can do me the favor of coming with me to the group bathroom."

"You're insistent." Danica remarked.

"I wouldn't have to be if you would do it the first time I asked.

"You didn't ask."

"I don't need to ask." Jerome replied with a smile. "Because I know that you want it too. I can see it on your face."

"Jerome, we can't make it a habit—"

"Pffft, yes we can. Come on." Jerome grabbed her hand and hopped off the table, pulling her from her seat.