Every category needs a story like this and Heartland doesn't have one--yet. It's obscene, I tell ya. So here it is.

Notes: This is AU and Amy and Ty aren't together yet. And Brett is just one of Amy's friends… if there was a Brett in the actual series then I have forgotten about her so you should just do the same!

The Charade

It's amazing, really. Not really any other way to describe it. Damn it. I never knew that mixing drinks could go so horribly wrong. Well, yes, I suppose I did know, but that is entirely beside the point. Especially mojitos. How hard is it? Two parts Sprite, one part rum, sugar, lime, spearmint... Did I mention the rum? Because you need the rum. Easy peasy. But, somehow, when you have no spearmint, sugar and only less then one liter of Sprite for three people, things can go horribly array... or not so horribly, but I suppose that depends on how you feel about the rum. Me, personally? I quite like it. I'll admit it, its intense straight, but I digress. It's not so wretched tasting after the second-- or third, whichever comes first-- glass.

So, I suppose, that in all actuality, it wasn't really mojitos that we had... more like rum with a splash of Sprite... for the first glass, anyway.

"Wait!" I cry out dramatically and throw a palm up in the air. "I've got it," I say with a prideful feeling swelling up in my chest that makes me even more light headed. "Where has... the rum gone?"

We collapse in giggles, and I'm not even quite sure what is so funny. I've the vague idea that it was something I said though. Whatever that was, I can't quite recall it at the moment... but I think it had something to do with rum. I quite like rum.

In our giggles, Soraya tips over onto me and I tip over onto the grass in a very domino-esq fashion.

When my stomach feels as though it might split straight open, I take a few deep, rather giggly breaths and heave myself back into a sitting position. My arms and legs flail in the air in front of me, but once I am properly seated on my butt once more, a giant grin plastered to my face and rocking back and forth slightly, I feel it is a massive success.

"Well," I say. I remember what I had been saying and I make my best serious face. "Where has the rum gone, Brett?"

She looks at me as if I've grown a second head... and, at this point, I'm not completely certain that I haven't. "Well I--"

"It's right here!" I screech shrilly, unable to contain myself and my news for even a moment longer. I lunge at Brett with the bottle of rum. I press it to her lips. "Bottoms up!"

Brett pushes me away. "I've still got some left," she says, indicating her still filled cup from the first round of mojitos. A giant chunk of crudely cut lime bobs miserably in the liquid.

I stumble backwards and take another swig from the bottle. I no longer have to repress a shudder when I swallow.

"What do we do now?" Soraya whines next to me.

"Hmmm," I begin my muse. But that is all I have. My Muse has failed me.

"I've got it!" Soraya brandished the rum bottle about madly, slopping the last of the rum onto the grass.

"What?" Brett asks. Her words are much too... neat, and put together. She is entirely too sober for my liking.

Soraya frowns. She giggles. "Well I've quite forgotten now." She throws her hands up and the empty rum bottle sails over her shoulder to land with a thunk in the grass behind us.

We are positively silent for a short moment and Soraya and I stare at the bottle lying in the grass with wide, innocent eyes. A horse's neigh reaches us from the nearby barn and it is enough to set off our spiels of giggles once more. Brett giggles a little too. Either she has had more to drink then I thought, or she is laughing at us. At the present moment, both options seem okay.

I try to stand, but my body feels too heavy and unbalanced so I collapse back onto the grass halfway through. I sit for a moment, pondering thoughtfully. "Let's play charades!" I say. Soraya claps gleefully. Brett only watches on like an amused... Brett. "I go first," I announce.

This time I managed to make it to my feet, after two or three tries. I find running to be easier then walking. In my stuttering, stumbling stride I manage to make it to the lonesome rum bottle. I grasp it in my fingers and run back to where my friends wait. I find that I do not quite recall how to stop my legs so I simply throw myself to the ground. There. Problem solved.

I get to my feet once more and clear my throat. "Why is the rum gone?" I exclaim loudly and flourish the rum bottle in front of me. "Who am I?"

"You don't talk in charades," Brett says.

Hmmm. "Pish posh."

"Oh! I know!" Soraya giggles.

I point to her. "Yes?"

"Johnny Depp!"

"Actually, I was going for Jack Sparrow but... yay! You win." I frown. "What does she win, Brett?"

Brett looks around before tearing a handful of grass up from the ground. She throws it at Soraya. Most of it falls shorts and twirls uselessly to the ground but the roots land in Soraya's lap. It's even funnier then the horse neighing.

"Your turn, S'raya." I fall back onto the grass and let the rum bottle roll away from me.

Soraya stands up, using my shoulder as leverage. Once on her feet, she sways dangerously. "Hmmm," she says. "I've got it!"

"No talking," Brett quips.

"Oh hush," I admonish with a wave of my hand.

"But that's not how you play," Brett whines.

"Well then I'm making an amendment. Henceforth..." I giggle. What an odd word. I wonder why I've never used it when I'm sober... I will have to try it sometime. "... henceforth," I continue, "all players may choose to speak aloud whilst playing in this game of charades." My vocabulary is quite impressive, if I do say so myself.

"Is it even legal to make amendments?" That's from Brett, of course.

I shrug. "Then I'm making and amendment that says making amendments is legal. All in favor of the two aformen--things say... rum!"

"Rum!" Soraya and I say jollily.

"Okay, S'raya. Your turn."

"Okay, I've got it," she says. She clears her throat, preparing herself for something. "We're devils and black sheep—" she stops singing with a frown. "I'm missing something…" she ponders, tapping a finger on her chin. "Oh, I've got it!" she snatches up the rum bottle. "Okay, I'm ready now…" She starts singing again, brandishing the rum bottle and skipping drunkenly around in a circle. "We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs!Drink up me 'earties, yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho! A pirate's life for me!" She throws her arms out wide at the end and falls back onto the ground. "Who am I?"

"Jack Sparrow!" I screech.

"Well I was looking for Johnny Depp but… yay! You win!" She claps her hands. "What does she win, Brett?"

Another clod of grass flies and this time it lands in my lap. This time it's even funnier then the first.

-------

"Drink up me 'earties, yo ho… yo ho, yo ho. A pirate's life for me," I giggle as I hum.

I am walking around the barn. Soraya and Brett have fallen asleep, and sleep is the last thing on my mind. Walking feels funny, I feel like I'm riding on a wave and my feet feel very light on the ground. My head is light and my smile big. I don't have any idea where I am going or why. But it hardly seems to matter at the moment.

"Amy?" a voice says my name.

I turn around. "Ty!" I yelp when I see that the dark figure approaching me is in fact, only him. I trip over to him. He catches me before I can fall flat on my face, though. "What are you doing here?" I ask him with a goofy smile on my face. I let him hold me up.

He stares at me. "Are you drunk?"

I giggle and shift my eyes from side to side. I giggle some more. "No..."

"You are," he accuses me with a frown. He looks me up and down. "What happened to your clothes?"

"Uh," I say. I should blush, but I don't have much modesty left at the moment. Sometime during the nights festivities I ended up barefoot, wearing only a pair of royal blue athletic shorts and a black sports bra. I'm not quite sure when this happened. The cool night air feels nice on my hot skin though, so I do not particularly morn their loss. "They're gone I s'pose," I mumble, halfheartedly attempting to solve the mystery.

"Apparently."

My smile must stretch from cheek to cheek. "I have a secret," I say around my giggles. I lean in closer to him, my arms falling loosely around his neck. My heart makes a strange jump. Whoosh. I giggle some more. "I like rum."

"Are you alone?"

"S'raya and Bert are here but they fell asleep."

"Bert?" Ty repeats.

I wave a hand. "Yes, of course. You've met her."

Ty eyes me. "You mean Brett?"

I blink once. Twice. Three times. "That's what I said." Obviously.

"How did this happen?" Ty sighs. I am confused. "How did you get drunk?"

I try to stop it, but a giggle emerges from my mouth despite my noble efforts. Silly Ty. "Well," I say, stepping back from him. "There was some rum… I quite like rum, you know." I try to skip around him but fail miserably. I suppose I'm lucky that Ty was there to catch me… again. Whoosh.

"You need to sit down," Ty says.

I pout. "But I only just got up!" I whine. "And let me tell you, mister," I point a finger at him, "that was no easy feat." I collapse onto his shoulder in a fresh round of giggles.

I push away from him and spin in circles, my arms flying out by my sides. I stop suddenly and sway dangerously on the spot. I jump around to face him and he catches me by the waist to keep me upright. Whoosh. I giggle. It takes the world a moment to catch up with me. "If I spin around or move really fast everything moves really slowly when I stop," I tell Ty, not sure if I really make much sense at all.

"Then perhaps you shouldn't do that," he says.

"It's funny though," I say and I do it again. I giggle as everything slowly slides back into focus.

I try to spin again but Ty takes a hold of me once more and guides me backwards to the hay and pushes my down by my shoulders.

"Stay there," he says to me, kneeling down in front of me so I can see his face. My heart makes that whooshing feeling again. Whoosh. Have his eyes always been that particular shade of green? It really is quite lovely… "I'm going to go get... what's so funny?"

"Huh?" I hardly realize I had started laughing.

"You were laughing," Ty says slowly.

I grin and cross my legs, folding my hands daintily on top of my knees. I start to tilt to the side but Ty catches me and rights me again. "My heart keeps making a funny whooshing feeling," I say giddily. Ty looks awkward, like he doesn't quite know what to do. I have the looming feeling that that was not something I should have said... but, alas, it has been said now. Nothing can be done about it now. I giggle again and clap a hand over my mouth. I blink up at Ty.

Ty's hands let go over my shoulders and I pout. "Right then," he says. "Stay here. I'm going to go get you some water."

I watch him walk away. What a fine butt he has. Amazing the things you notice while inebriated...

When Ty returns with a bottle of water in hand, I am fingering several pieces of hay.

"Here," he says, placing the bottle in my hands.

I try to take it but tilt it over too far and some of the water slops onto my bare legs. It's cold, but still quite funny.

Ty guides the bottle up to my mouth and holds it while I take a drink.

"This is amazing," I say, back to studying the pieces of hay again.

Ty sets the water bottle aside. "What is?"

"This," I brandish the hay in his face and giggle as it brushed against his nose. Whoosh. "A marvelous invention, don't you think? I'd like to meet the jolly ol' bloke that invented this and say to him, 'hey, what a downright amazing thingy-ma-jig to have invented'."

Ty blinks. "Yes," he finally says, prying the hay from my hands. I let it go without much of a fight. "It certainly is."

He sits down next to me on the bale. I scoot over closer to him and lean my head against his shoulder... nice, strong shoulder. Yum. Whoosh. Ty puts an arm around my shoulders.

We stare up at the cloudless sky.

"I can't believe you're drunk," he says.

"Didn't mean to. S'raya messed up the moo-hee-toes. Rum with a splash of Sprite... and then none. I like rum." I giggle.

"Well, no more rum for you," Ty says.

"Aw," I pout. I crane my neck back and look up at him with wide eyes. I blink several times in rapid succession. I'd heard Ashley Grant rave about the wonders it did to guys, but it only made my vision spotty. "Don't be such a spoil sport."

Ty chuckles and I can feel the sound vibrate on my back. Whooshwhooshwhoooooosh.

"I'm not really drunk," I claim after a moment of silence. "See, I can point to that star up there in the sky." And I do just that.

"Okay, Amy," Ty says. "There are many stars up there."

"I know. I'm pointing to that one," I say matter-of-factly. "Don't you see it?" It really is quite simple. Really.

"Of course," he says.

"I can point to you, too." I turn my finger on him and, not accounting for how much closer his face is to me then my star had been, I jab him in the nose. "Oops," I giggle as he rubs his nose ruefully. "I'm sorry," I say. "Do you forgive me?"

He looks down at me, his eyes shinning by some invisible light. Whoosh. "Of course I forgive you."

I sigh. "Good. I don't know what I'd do if you were mad at me."

Ty laughs again. Whooshwhooshwhooshwhooshwhooooooooooosh. His arm squeezes briefly around my shoulders. Need I become repetitive with the whooshing? "You're silly, Amy."

My response is another giggle. I bury my face into his chest in an attempt to smoother it. It doesn't work.

Ty scoots backwards, taking me with him, until he is leaning back against the barn wall.

"What are you like drunk?" I blurt out after a moment. I can feel him look down at me. "I want to see you drunk..." I say without waiting for an answer. Then I frown. "But the rum's all gone..."

"Another night then," Ty says with another laugh.

"We could get more rum..." I say helpfully.

"I think you've had enough rum for one night."

"Where has the rum gone...?" I say slowly, staring at Ty's thigh. I place my hand there and feel the rough fabric of his jeans on my fingers. I curl my legs under me. Now my knee is touching his. Whoosh.

"Where indeed," Ty says softly. I haven't the faintest clue what he's talking about, I am much too distracted to think about it at any length.

I move my hand lightly down his leg to his knee. I circle it a couple times, just experimenting. Ty's takes a sharp breath. I smile. Was that something I did? I move my hand lightly up his leg and over his hip, stopping at his waist. I toy with the hem of his shirt.

"Amy," Ty says.

"Yes?" I look up at him with innocent eyes, but I don't move my hand. I press the pads of my fingers to the bare skin I've found at his waist. His stomach muscles contract. I find that I want to touch them. I thought this would scare me but all it does is... make my heart whoosh like mad.

"Stop that," he says. He doesn't mean it though. I can tell.

"Stop what?" I say. My fingers drift along to his stomach. His muscles are tensed... all the better for me to feel the hard ridges of them. My heart is like a rollercoaster. Whooshwhooshwhooshwhooooooooooooshwhooshwhooshwhoooooooooooshwhoooshwhoooooooooooooooosh... whoosh.

"You know what?" he says.

"Tell me," I whisper. I spread my fingers out on his stomach. Ty takes a shaky breath and I feel strangely proud of myself.

Despite what he's saying, the arm that had been around his shoulders drops to my waist and his fingers trace tentative circles on the bare skin of my back. Now I seem to be draped across his lap, with one hand up his shirt. And I rather like the position.

"I know what you're thinking and you can't..."

"Can't do what, Ty?" I ask. I stare up at him.

He stares at me for a long moment. His green eyes smolder as they lock with mine. Whoosh.

"You can't touch me like that," he finally says, he voice low and very close to my ear.

I shiver. "I'll stop when you stop," I bargain. Rum makes you bold. I would never do this if I was sober. Never. I'd sooner catch fire from the amount my face would be blushing. But I liked being bold. It was powerful. And frightening. But good. Yes, good. Very good...

"Amy," he groans. "This is illegal."

"What is?" I ask, his words don't make sense to me.

"I'm nineteen, you're sixteen," he says. "Do the math. It's illegal for me to do anything with you." He frowns. "Just like the rum you've drunk, might I add."

"But I liked the rum..."

Ty sighs again. "I know that."

I sit up, and I find myself sitting on Ty's lap. My hand slips out from under his shirt and I place them both on his shoulders, I finger the ends of his hair. I vaguely think he needs a trim. But I like it long, falling over his ears and the back of his neck. Ty's arms slid around my waist and hold my tightly. I can see that he really wants to let me go.

"Don't you like me, Ty?" I ask softly.

He's silent for a moment. His mouth opens several times and then closes before any words can come out. "Of course I do," he finally says. "I like you too much. That's the problem."

"Problem," I repeat. I smile. "I like you too," I say, as if it were a natural part of conversations. And I do. Like him, I mean. I realize it just as I say it. Feeling bold with this new discovered realization, I say, "So what's the problem then? If I like you and you like me...?" I trail off and leave the question hanging in the air.

"It's illegal," Ty repeats. "I don't want to get arrested for taking advantage of a minor."

"But you're taking advantage of me," I argue, my head is swimming at the close proximity we are to each other. "It's consensual," I say, proud, once more, of my stellar vocabulary.

"No one will care," Ty says.

"But I care," I say.

"But you're drunk," he says next, his fingers splaying across my lower back. One hand moves up my bare back, running along the bottom of my sports bra.

"Not so much anymore," I say. I'm not so sure I'm telling the truth though. I still feel delightfully happy and giggly. But, by now, that could be due to any number of reasons. But Ty still clearly thinks that I am inebriated. "Well," I say, moving on, "I wouldn't do this normally."

"Don't I know it," Ty murmurs. His eyes trail down my half naked body. He shakes his head and his eyes snap back up to mine. "But that doesn't change the fact that this is illegal."

"Is it really illegal though?" I ask. "Or maybe just a little bit illegal?" It's brilliant, I think.

"A little bit illegal?" Ty repeats me. "It's either illegal or it's not… and this certainly is illegal." He adds softly, "Unfortunately."

I get a sudden idea. Sober Amy would hide under a rock at its boldness but Drunk Amy is planning on embracing it to its fullest. I'm finding I like Drunk Amy a bit better. She's more exciting. I'll have to take some pointers from her.

I lean closer to Ty. I place my lips at his ear and I know my chest—all of my size 34B of it— is very close to his face. His hands grip my back and I can feel his breath on my neck. Whooshwhooshwhooshwhooshwhooshwhoosh.

"So would it be very naughty of me to kiss you then?" Ty's breath catches and his hands press tighter on my back. My plan is working quite nicely. "Would that make me a very bad girl, Ty?" I press one step closer. And it proves to be the final step; Ty grips my face in between his two large hands and presses his lips against mine. My legs are straddling him and I arch my back, pressing myself closer to him. My hands knot in his hair, keeping him close to me. His hands drift down my sides and I gasp aloud, my mouth opening underneath Ty's lips. I gasp again as I feel Ty's tongue touch mine. His hands grip my hips, holding me to him. My heart stutters and jumps about. Whooshwhooshwhooshwhooshwhooshwhoosh.

"Yo ho, yo ho! A pirate— oh!"

Ty breaks apart from me faster then… anything.

I turn and see Soraya standing there, watching us with wide eyes and a huge grin. She sways a little on the spot but manages to keep her balance. "Sorry! Sorry! I'm leaving! Continue!" It takes a moment for her to go away though. She does though, singing loudly once more. "Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!"

I look back at Ty. It looks like he's thinking very hard about something. I lean in and kiss him again and his internal struggle seems to stop. But he pushes me away with a groan before things can get good again.

"We can't, Amy," he says softly, pushing some of the hair that's escaped from my ponytail behind my ears. "I'd love to, but we can't."

"No one has to know," I reason.

He's silent. His hands are still on my hips. They slide around my waist and down my bottom to the backs of my thighs. I shiver in delight. Whooshwhooshwhooshwhooshwhooshwhooooooo—

"Fine," he relents.

I grin and try to kiss him again but he won't let me. I pout. "But you said fine."

"Not now," he amends.

"When?"

"Tomorrow," he says, "when you're sober… or the next day, when you're not hung-over. We'll go out to dinner."

I perk up at this. "Will there be rum?"

"No."

"Boo," I say, sticking out my lower lip. Ty laughs at me. "You're ruining all the fun. First you don't let me have anymore rum—I love rum, you know—and then you won't let me kiss you anymore. I like kissing you. Just as much as I like rum. And that's a lot," I ramble.

Ty laughs at me again. "You won't like the rum much tomorrow."

I frown. "Do you like kissing me too, Ty?"

He's silent for a moment. "I do."

I perk up. "As much as you like rum?"

"I… of course, Amy."

I smile and turn around his arms so that I can lean against his chest again. "Good. I'm glad." Now his hands were on my stomach. Whoosh.

"You're a very entertaining drunk," he says.

I grin and giggle some more.

"And very happy and giggly," he adds.

I tilt my head back against his shoulder and stare up at him. I kiss him quickly on the cheek. My head is against his shoulder before he can catch me. I feel his eyes on my and I collapse in a fit of giggles once more, curling into his chest.

"And very naughty, too," he adds.

I giggle some more.

We look up at the sky in silence. I start to giggle a couple times at absolutely nothing. Ty's hands stay securely on my hips and I like it. I don't ever want to move from this spot.

The silence feels overpowering. "I like rum," I say, just to hear something.

"You have made that perfectly clear." Ty's voice rumbles on my back and I find that I like it. I must keep him talking.

"Why has the rum gone?"

Ty sighs and I giggle once more. Things are looking up.

Whoosh.

hmmm. Isn't Amy a lovely drunk? I'm quite like her drunk, too: very happy and giggly. And I've also pulled the whole I'm-not-drunk-I-can-point-at-that-star-right-there thing. And there's always that one kid who swears up and down that they can make mojitos… ::sigh:: But I suppose lack of proper ingredients isn't really their fault… ANYWAYS. I know you like this pointless, plotless little story… I know you did. A nice little read to forget about school starting tomorrow… and the fact that I STILL haven't started my summer work… uh-oh…

Make me happy with a REVIEW!

But seriously. Don't try making mojitos unless you can do it properly… and a little bit of rum goes a long way… just remember that… I learned the hard way… well, I dunno if it was hard… But the point is, there's a reason there's a drinking age—even if Europeans don't really seem to care about it. Drink responsibly, and if you're going to drink do so with a small group of close friends… around a bonfire on a beach in Rhodes… but there's not always a Ty there to catch you, so be careful, ladies.

Why has the rum gone? That is thy question of life,

Steph Malfoy