Prefect

[Parker took the mug of vodka and held it carefully as if she was holding a mug of scorching coffee. Normally she didn't need a reason to drink, but she was trying not do it so much. The aversion to overindulgence and being alone while drinking seemed to be connected to the sudden distaste she had found for scotch, even if she couldn't place her finger on why. Parker just looked at him when he said freedom from the collective. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before she downed her vodka, wincing as she drained the glass. Her head hurt, but it was more like an issue of pressure. Maybe she should have told people other then McCoy and Janeway about the two weeks; it had been self-preservation that she hadn't... but now she was questioning the wisdom of it.] Yay for us. [The words were echoed softly, and she blinked again. A number floated on the top of her mind, seemingly from no where.] Two? [She said it questionably..]