Author: therubyone

Rated: M for Mature, some bodacious het (surprise!) between Walter & Audrey

Disclaimer: Drake and Josh Characters not owned nor created by me, neither ill will nor profit sought

Summary: Parents will be people, too - Walter and Audrey come home drunk from a wild St. Patrick's Day celebration and their kids accidentally discover them having some adult fun!

Based on the St. Patrick's Day & subsequent fanfic challenges from Theatrephunk

THE WEARIN' O' THE GREEN

Chapter 1 – 'Twas a Grand Old Time

Walter and Audrey Nichols made a happy couple and they loved their active social life. They enjoyed going out together, as if they were still dating. This evening was no exception: the occasion was the annual St. Patrick's Day party at KSTV, Channel 7, a splendid event hosted by the station manager Bob Galloway, and always set to take place the evening of the day the news team covered the St. Patrick's Day parade. So the lovely red-headed Audrey, nee Audrey O'Hara, was decked out as a comely colleen in a short green skirt with a tight-waisted bodice, showing frilly white lace at the bustline and revealing a hint of cleavage. Walter's holiday costume turned him into the biggest leprechaun ever seen to roam the Earth. Many viewed him as a dufus, but he was Audrey's great big bear of a man, a steady provider for the family, who was known to carry hundred dollar bills in his wallet, he also had a great head of hair, and even more important, he was absolutely great in bed.

Mr. and Mrs. Nichols were not, however, big drinkers. Carefully avoiding the kegs of green beer, they stuck with the emerald punch, not realizing it was spiked until they were already well into their cups. In fact, they didn't stop imbibing until they were what the Irish like to call "three sheets to the wind." As much as parents are viewed as responsible people who never say or do anything out of the ordinary or who would take any unnecessary risks, sometimes it happens. This was one of those evenings. In fact, it must have been the luck of the Irish that protected Audrey as she drove them home in Walter's snazzy blue convertible (with the top down, of course). If she had not taken the back way and the short cuts, she might have been stopped at one of several St. Patrick's Day police checkpoints and immediately arrested for driving under the influence.

As they pulled into the garage at home, rather crookedly, Walter, who had been napping, awoke with a snort. He was totally in love with his beautiful wife and he considered himself an extremely lucky man. The demon alcohol can make a person especially sentimental, because it is a legal brain-killing poison that first attacks the inhibitions. Walter burst into song to serenade his lovely wife, drunkenly crooning When Irish Eyes Are Smiling. Audrey found the performance completely charming and rewarded Walter with a hot French kiss. Walter responded like a bull spying a red flag. Before she knew what was happening, she was in the backseat and Walter was going for the pot o' gold at the end of the rainbow. He seemed to have suddenly grown an extra set of hands. And lips. One minute he was lifting her breasts out of her blouse and bra, the next he was groping under her skirt. With the expertise of a familiar lover, he touched her just so and she bucked under his hand. And his mouth never stopped. When he wasn't kissing her breathless, he was sucking her earlobes, licking her nipples, and nibbling on her neck in a way that simply drove her crazy.

It was as if nobody else existed at that moment. Before you could say "Top o' the mornin'," Walter had managed to get both of their pants down and was easing an eager Audrey onto his own very wooden 'shillelagh.' Audrey threw her head back in reckless abandon and started to get very noisy as Walter bounced her up and down. God, she knew they were beyond intoxicated, and she no longer cared. The heat and the slick friction between them was building up to one hell of a release, as Walter alternated sucking on and then teasing Audrey's nipples with the fingers of his free hand, the other hand continuing to guide her movements over his ample shaft.

Megan Parker was a sound sleeper, but something about the strange noises coming from the garage disturbed her and brought her to sudden wakefulness. She decided to get her parents, in case there was a crazy burglar breaking into their house. Quietly, she crept into her parents' bedroom, to find them not in it. Then she remembered they had gone to a party. Afraid of revealing her presence to any unknown intruders, she eased her way timidly down the steps in darkness, and as she got closer, the sounds got louder and scarier.

Audrey was on her second orgasm and didn't care who knew it. At the back of Walter's mind, he somehow recalled they were not in the house alone. He put his hand over Audrey's mouth, trying to stifle her moans, admonishing her to "Sssssssssssssh!" but she was so far gone, she just bit his fingers, and he emitted an even louder "OW!"

As Megan peeked through the inside door leading to the garage, she wasn't sure what she was seeing. Her mother and Walter, yelling! Their faces flushed, wrestling, struggling together in the car! Her mother kept saying "Don't" and "Stop" but Walter kept bouncing her around like a rag doll and grunting. What was wrong with this picture? Megan turned on her heel and shot back upstairs as fast as she could.

When Audrey climaxed, she blacked out for a moment, due to the effects of the liquor. She collapsed into Walter's arms and revived again as he stroked her cheek and called her his own bonny wee lass. Hazily realizing that Walter's needs had not yet been met, Audrey wanted to take the party inside. Staggering and laughing, they clambered out of the car and made their way into the living room, leaving a trail of clothing as they went.

Once Audrey was on her back on their long living room sofa, Walter remembered there was a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator. They had purchased it in hopes that he would win the Best Weatherman award, but sadly, due to competitor Bruce Winchell, they had never had the chance to open it and celebrate.

"Wait right there, honey," Walter told Audrey, who was giving him that come-hither look that he found irresistible. He lurched into the kitchen to get them two glasses of champagne, unable to conceive of the massive hangover that they were going to have in just a few hours. With a noisy pop, the cork flew straight up into one of the kitchen lights and broke the bulb. Oblivious, Walter took their drinks back into the darkness of the living room. He and Audrey pledged an Irish toast,

May neighbors respect you,

Trouble neglect you,

The angels protect you,

And heaven accept you!

They clinked glasses, and gulped down the champagne.

"Come on, Papa Bear, let me have it," purred Audrey, holding out her arms to her husband. Walter eased himself into the missionary position and set a rhythm of slow, deep penetration. Audrey worked one of her legs around his waist and whispered sweet, dirty nothings into Walter's ear. They were having a grand old time!

Meanwhile, Megan had run to her brothers' bedroom. First she climbed the ladder to Drake's bed, where he was peacefully snoring away. Unfortunately, he had also inherited the Parker tendency to be a very deep sleeper, not easy to wake. She poked and prodded him, even pounded him with her fists a few times, without result. There was no other choice then, so she climbed into bed with Josh.

Josh was a light sleeper and when he opened his eyes to find Megan next to him, staring down into his face, his first reaction was to let out a startled wail. "Don't hurt me!" he shouted, wondering what evil intentions might be in store for him. To his astonishment, Megan started crying.

Megan blubbered, "Something weird is going on downstairs and I'm really scared. Mom and Dad were yelling and fighting each other in the car, down in the garage. I think something might be wrong with them. Or else Dad just went crazy and is trying to kill Mom. I got so freaked out, I just ran up here for help. They were making some strange animal noises."

Being half asleep, Josh wasn't quite putting the picture together, since what his parents were actually doing was so out of character with the parents he knew on a daily basis. He grabbed one of his slippers and took careful aim, tossing it at Drake's head. "Drake, wake up, we have a situation!"

He cuddled Megan and asked her, "Megan, do you want to stay here with me and have Drake go downstairs and check it out?"

Megan nodded and curled herself up into a little ball at Josh's side, seeking refuge in his strong arms. It took the other slipper to rouse Drake, who sat up and opened one eye, emitting a grumpy, "Huh?" Josh explained what Megan had said, as she continued to whimper and sob.

The sound of his baby sister in tears brought Drake to an aware state of consciousness. He sulkily tossed Josh's slippers back down towards him, while looking for his own. Never one to hold back when peeved, he muttered, "This better be good and not another one of your pranks, Megan. You interrupted the greatest dream." Ready for anything, he grabbed his golf club, and left the room.

Moments later, he shot back into the bedroom and threw himself into the bed with Josh and Megan. "OH. MY. GOD!" Drake shouted. Then he screwed his eyes tight shut and writhed back and forth. "I saw it. I saw Walter's hairy ass. I can't stand it. Just poke my eyes out, p-l-e-a-s-e."

"What is going on?" Josh wanted to know.

"My very own sweet mother. And that beast of a man. It's too awful! How could she? I might start puking any minute," ranted Drake.

"What are you talking about?" wondered Josh.

"They're DOING IT ! On the couch. Where we sit. Oh, kill me now, Josh, don't make me think of it. It's the most messed-up thing I've ever seen in my whole life," Drake groaned.

All the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place in Josh's head. He gently nudged Megan over next to Drake and got up. He flew down the steps to see if Drake was telling the truth. He still wasn't convinced this was NOT all part of some middle-of-the-night scheme of Megan's that Drake might be in on.

Josh tiptoed into the garage. He noted some crushed green and white paper cups strewn on the floor, decorated with shamrocks. He followed the trail, noticed an oversized green hat with a green feather, a green derby hat, some green necklaces, assorted shoes, a filmy green scarf, red-and-white striped knee-socks and sheer black stockings, then - - his mother's green dirndl skirt, his father's green knee pants, and – what the? - UNDERWEAR !

He crept into the kitchen and took note of the opened bottle of champagne. He turned his attention towards the living room, gazing through the open panel from the kitchen, and there, in the dim starlight coming in through the windows, he could see the shadowy form of his father, moving, OH MY GOD, up and down, OH MY GOD, faster and faster, having sexual intercourse with his stepmother. And, OH MY GOD, Megan was right; they were both being quite vocal with their enjoyment. Josh clapped his hands over his ears for a moment, then grabbed the open bottle of champagne and took off running, retreating to the safety of his room.

Megan was practically catatonic, sitting and staring, her arms tightly hugging herself. Drake had stopped writhing, but his eyebrows had almost meshed into a straight line across his forehead, topping the frown on his face, as he stared at nothing and continuously mumbled, "Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, NO."

Josh scrambled back into the bed, like it was an island of sanity in a world turned upside down. "Okay. We weren't meant to see that. I smelled a lot of boozy fumes. I think our parents must be drunk. There was a trail of clothes that led me to them and I saw them – doing the shamrock shake," he said pointedly, looking at Drake and tapping him on the arm. Josh shook his head several times, as if that would eliminate the image etched into his memory.

Taking a swig from the bottle, Josh reiterated, "That's something that children are never, ever supposed to see or think about." Passing the champagne to Drake, Josh advised him, "Drink. We must erase this from our minds."

Drake accepted the bottle and gulped. "Oh, this is NASTY. Why does everyone think this stuff is so great? It's bitter and fizzy and kind of burns."

Megan spoke up. "I'll never be able to ride in the convertible again. I may never be able to go to sleep again. And I'll certainly never be able to look them in the eye EVER again."

"You need to take a drink, too, Megan," sympathized Drake.

Josh got up. "Wait. I have to mix it with something for her, it's too strong. She's suffered enough." He went to their mini-fridge and got out a can of lemon-lime soda and found a cup on the desk.

"Here, Megs. Sip this," said Josh, offering her the cup with the diluted mixture, "A little at a time. It will help you forget."

Megan took the cup from Josh as if in a trance and did as Josh told her.

"Megan, did they ever show you a special movie in school, you know, like in health class?" asked Josh.

"No. That's next semester," Megan replied.

"Did Mom ever, uh, have a talk with you . . . about what a man and a woman do when they love each other?" Josh further inquired, as delicately as possible.

"No. I guess she was waiting until after they showed the movie," answered Megan.

Drake broke in, vehemently, "Dude, I am not having 'THE TALK' with my little sister. No way!"

"Drake, this could scar her for life. She doesn't even understand what they were doing, so it seems extra scary," Josh explained.

Drake took another long pull from the bottle and passed it back to Josh. Josh did the same, and then hiccupped.

"Well, I can see why they call it the 'bubbly,'" Josh said as he began to feel tipsy.

Drake let out a giggle and replied, "That's such a funny word. BUBBLY."

They continued passing the bottle, sipping in silence, each one replaying what they saw and heard, and feeling stunned by it. Gradually, the consumption of the champagne started to relax them and make them rather drunk.

"Megan, do you remember the wedding vows that Mom and Dad said? There was one that went 'With my body, I worship thee,'" asked Josh.

"Not really," said Megan.

"What that means is that, even though it looked unbelievably gross to the three of us, Mom and Dad were enjoying what they were doing with each other. That's why they were making so much noise. It's a special way of, uh, laughing, for adults," Josh continued.

"I don't think I would ever want to do anything like that with anyone," Megan stated firmly.

"It does seem pretty bizarre, doesn't it? I mean, the way it's designed," added Drake, who had been listening with interest.

Josh interrupted, "I don't think we need to go into the mechanics of it right here and now."

Drake suddenly laughed. "What if they pass out down there? Maybe we should take pictures! We could blackmail them the rest of our lives."

"Why do I always have to be the conscience of the group? Our parents are good to us nearly all the time. I think we should just act like it never happened," sighed Josh.

Drake returned with, "If they're as tanked as you think they are, they might not even remember it happened. I mean, they're always on our backs about the consequences of our actions. I don't think we should let them off the hook so easily. We have to let them know we saw something."

"We could hide their clothes," Megan suggested.

Drake snapped his fingers. "I've got it. Remember when they were getting ready to leave for the party? The last thing they did was put on those buttons and badges that they've been collecting from a zillion other St. Patrick's Day celebrations. They had pinned those to their clothes. If we take those and pin them on ourselves, they'll have to wonder how we got them."

When the brothers and the sister stood up, they found that the room was spinning and tilting.

"My legs aren't working right. And my head feels funny," said Megan, as her knees started to buckle.

Josh lifted her up and set her on the couch. "Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"

"No. I just think I want to lay still with my eyes closed," Megan answered.

Josh got a blanket and put it over her. "You do that, then, while Drake and I go get the pins."

"Ooooh," giggled Josh. "That champagne packs quite a punch."

"I know!" answered Drake, who then let out a huge belch. "Let's get going on our mission. It would be awful if Mom and Dad caught us drinking. I don't want to get punished for their mistake."

Josh took the now-empty bottle of champagne, so he could slip it into the kitchen trash.

Clutching at the railing, the boys managed to make it down the stairs. Walter and Audrey must have gone to their bedroom, since they were no longer to be found on the sofa or in the car. But the clothes still littered the floor.

The buttons that Josh and Drake collected read:

Irish I had a Beer

Kiss Me, I'm Irish

Patrick was a Saint, I Ain't

Honorary Leprechaun

The Gift O' the Blarney

Kiss My Shamrocks

"That's enough," said Josh, looking green around the gills. "Now we each have two things to show them. I need to get back to bed - pronto."

"Oh, yeah," agreed Drake. "I don't feel so great, either."

Continued in Chapter 2 - The Mornin' After.