Jack woke from his dream. He had been chasing something, couldn't remember what. It seemed important. He had been weighted down, something slowing him, like a great big weight on his chest. Oh well, a dream's just a dream.

He still felt weighed down. And the air smelled strangely sweet, like honey. Not sugar sweet, but musty sweet. What a strange smell for a room full of men.

His hand moved over something soft and silky. Hair? Oh man, how much did he drink last night? If ...