Misa wakes up with a fairly intense hangover. Wine had seemed like the best way to cope with a night like last night; lots of it. Not enough to forget her criminal activities, unfortunately, but at least the pounding headache is a decent distraction from everything else.

She wanders into the kitchen clad in an overlarge T-shirt and still sporting bedhead, wincing at the mid-morning sunlight. The stacks upon stacks of pancakes are a surprise, as is Tony being the one cooking them, but Misa doesn't comment on either of these things immediately.

"Anyone mind if I close the blinds?" she mumbles to no one in particular.