"You smell too," she retorted, letting her backpack dangle from her hand. Aimee stared at the enormous bathroom, and Jim nudged her through the door and closed it behind her. It was like being in a swanky hotel, complete with one of those giant rain showerheads. The backpack was dropped to the fluffy shower mat, and she fiddled with the controls until she got the water nice and warm.

After days on a bus it was amazing to luxuriate in the shower, though she tried not to linger too long. The mirror was completely fogged up when she finally emerged, wrapping a white towel around herself as she dug through her backpack for some clean clothes. Clean she had - unwrinkled, not so much.

Aimee rubbed a small section of the mirror clear, and dragged her brush through her long hair, hurriedly bringing order to the wet strands. After a moment of thought she plaited it into a braid, then she shook it out with irritation. Hair half in her face, Aimee stuffed her dirty clothes into her pack, and padded back to the door, opening it hesitantly and looking around.

"Jim?" Her voice sounded small in the hallway. How long of a shower had she taken?