You're a Long Way from Home

Max opened his eyes and closed them again. He was on the verge of throwing up. He had lost count of the number of shifts that they had gone through in the past few days. It had thrown his internal clock off kilter and that had made him feel disoriented.

Max opened up his eyes again, taking slow deep breaths and fighting the urge to vomit. 

"Shit," Max muttered. "I'm getting to old for this."

Max glanced over to see her sitting up and stretching the kinks out of her body. Her wingspan was quite impressive.

"You got that right, lover," Mags told him. "You thinking of retiring?"

"What and leave all this," Max replied.

"This one is pretty bad," Mags said. "The others are still out of it."

"Whoever is causing these drastic changes is going to pay dearly," Max said as he sat up and noticed the others were still laying about the floor like a child's displaced toys.

Mags sat up against a wall, her wings folded back and draped over her shoulders like a cloak. A fleeting thought went through his mind, so fleeting that it was like a dream in a blender, but looking at Mags like that only made him mutter something he wasn't sure he said.

"What?" Mags questioned.

"What did I say?" Max asked back.

"You were having a Frankie Goes To Hollywood moment," she told him.

"Oh really?"

"You said Pleasuredome."