[Morning suck. Mornings suck on the best of days, but the day after visiting an unknown number of bars or pubs or whatever the heck they called them here in Bavaria, mornings are pure, undiluted evil. Cissie firmly believes this as she wakes up with a hangover worse than any she's had before. She hides her head under her pillow and groans, trying to go back to sleep.

...Except someone else is in bed with her. And she doesn't remember Sylar spending the night. She picks up the pillow slowly and squints at the person next to her in bed. It takes a second to sink into her brain, and when it does, she says the first thing that comes to mind:]

...Kirk. What are you doing in my bed.