a/n: Okay, so I have an unhealthy obsession with Tarrlok, so I wrote a super crappy fic about something that is totally weir and I do not even know what I'm doing at this point so ya. Enjoy.

Oh yis, and only this tiny, pathetic plot belongs to me.

Tarrlok woke up slowly, savoring the last warm tendrils of sleep...until he became aware of a sensation akin to a herd of buffalo yaks trampling through his skull.

With a groan, he wrenched open his salt encrusted eyelids and laid perfectly still, staring incredulously at dirty, shadowy walls full of graffiti and suspicious stains. The entire room reeked of tobacco, alcohol, and some musty scent that he could not identify...

With another self pitying groan, he hastily wrenched himself out of bed, then immediately toppled over backwards as all the blood rushed out of his head, leaving behind weird, greenish spots in his blackened vision.

What happened?

For a moment, he just laid there, flat on his back against the cold, splintery wood floor, straining his aching brain for some memories of last night. What had he been doing last night?

Okay, let's see...finals! Yes! I finished my finals...I went to a friend's dorm...we went out to celebrate...I ate fish...and had a weird greenish drink-

And that's where the memories ended.

Tarrlok could not believe it! All his life, he had been overly cautious, and now he had to go and get roaring drunk while he was in school on a SCHOLARSHIP no less! What the Koh had he done last night? Who had seen? What if he made a total fool of himself and lost his scholarship? Did he want noodles of steamed buns for breakfast?

Okay, he didn't really know where that last thought came from.

And he wouldn't ever know if he remained curled up on the floor, clutching his head.

Steeling himself, Tarrlok heaved himself onto his feet with all the grace of an arctic hippo. He paused a moment and leaned heavily against the wall before letting the room swim into focus before his eyes.

He appeared to be on the second floor of a very cheap, crappy inn, with cracked windows and a very interesting patterns of furry mold growing on the walls. There was no bathroom, no electricity, and probably no plumbing. Not really his kind of place at all.

Upon further investigation, he realized that he was also stark naked, with his clothes strewn all over the dusty floors.

Oh. So I might've gotten laid.

That, of course, was always a good thing. Now if only he could remember enough of it to actually feel smug.

With a resigned sigh, he walked over and looked at the small bedside table, and found that there was a note there:

Thanks for the night, but don't come looking for me again, nerd. Oh, by the way, I hope you don't mind if I borrowed some cash. Kisses-

And there was a tacky smear of red which Tarrlok supposed was lipstick.

Angrily, he crumpled up the piece of paper and slammed his fist into the bed. Nerd? NERD!? He was not a nerd! He was an sophisticated human being who was very good looking and happened to have more than enough social aptitude, thank you very much. And he also happened to mind very much if some one trashy lady decided to "borrow" his cash, especially if she (and hopefully not a 'he' because he tried it once which was ridiculously mortifying especially since he couldn't sit right for a week) didn't even bother to look at him the morning after! Although, the whole "borrowing cash" thing did give him a very ominous feeling...

With great apprehension, he walked over to investigate his pants, specifically the front pocket, and found...nothing. There was nothing in the place where he put his wallet, which contained pretty much his entire month's salary from a part time job at Narook's.

That was not fair! It was his first time drinking and he was taken advantage of by a girl in some sketchy bar!? He was pretty sure that this experience just put him off women for the rest of his days. How could he have been so stupid?

Tarrlok slapped himself in the forehead and immediately regretted it when it caused his skull to feel like it was fracturing from his hand's point of contact.

With great resignation, Tarrlok dressed himself and left the room full of dusty floors and moldy walls and stained bedsheets. He resolved to go back to his dorm, drink a few gallons of water, and scream at his friends for a while. It would serve them right for letting him canter off with a demonic tramp.

Sighing irritably, he slammed the door to the pathetic excuse of a closet. With a scowl on his face, Tarrlok strutted down the hall, ripping apart the crazy girl's note on the way.

a/n: Okay, I tried to make it funny, but probably just ended up making Tarrlok sound like a whiney prick. Whatever.

Review!