Room 317, Sunday Late Morning/Early Afternoon

Z woke up to the sound of pounding. Not just in her head, although that was pretty bad, too. No, this pounding was coming from outside. "Hang on!" she yelled as she tugged on her uniform. Had Luke locked himself out? No, he could always just Forcepick the lock or something. Maybe it was Bridge.

She flung the door open and said, "What??" Then she realized there was nothing there and looked down. At five children.

The tallest, a boy in a red and grey baseball shirt, said, "Hi, Mom!"

Oh, it was too early in the morning for this.

Room 317, Sunday Night

Z was about ready to tear her hair out, but she'd managed to keep all five children alive for one day, so she was going to call it a plus. Kimmy and Paris seemed to be at each other's throats every five seconds, while Toby cried at the drop of a hat, but JD had taken him under his wing, so that was good. Wraith...it was hard to get a read on Wraith. She smiled a lot. It was a little disconcerting.

Now, after a sad excuse for supper that had cleaned out her Pop Tart stash, she had dressed the kids in a motley assortment of her workout clothes and was putting them to bed while a replicate laundered their clothes for tomorrow. She'd squeezed the three smallest ones into her bed (with Toby between Paris and Kimmy so they didn't kill each other in their sleep), and they were out like wee adorable lights. She'd made up a pallet on the floor for JD and Wraith, and she'd figure out where she'd sleep later.

There was just one problem. Wraith and JD weren't sleepy.

"Please?" she tried. "I'll buy you a pony."

((Open to anyone who'd have a good reason to be in Z's room!))