Liz lets her forehead fall to his shoulder.

Muffled, resigned:

"Shit."

Beat.

Less resigned, more annoyed: "Goddamn it." The water is freezing; she pushes herself up and off of him.

Someone's yelling out in the hallway; a door slams, then another. Somebody else, sounding very confused, is shouting back about water.

"Oh," says Liz tightly, "my God," and, sitting on the edge of the bed, she presses her hand to her face.