"You are pathetic."

That statement probably would've made a bigger impact, had Darkrai been awake to hear her.

Then again, she shouldn't have expected him to be; it was like this every time they left one of Arceus' parties. It was inevitable: one of the other legendaries - usually Raikou, Zapdos, or Ho-Oh, sometimes even Giratina if he was feeling particularly sadistic - would challenge Darkrai to a drinking contest. Darkrai was never one to back down from a challenge (even one as juvenile in nature as a drinking contest - what did they think they were, humans?) so of course he accepted every single time, and it always ended the exact same way, every single time.

His ghostly form would falter after only a few shots, and then he wouldn't be able to hover staight without smashing into things, and then it would fall onto her to drag him back to his island. "Oh, Cresselia can do it, she doesn't mind! It's on the way back to Fullmoon Island anyway," the others would say. "It definitely wouldn't be going out of the way at all!"

Of course, they were right. She really had to stop being such a pushover.

But, that would come another day.

She hovered over the still waters of the ocean, the Dark-type legendary haphazardly slung over her back. He was completely out-of-it, which suited Cresselia just fine. It meant she didn't have to listen to any nonsensical rambling. On the other hand, it would've been much easier on the both of them if Darkrai had been awake enough to hover on his own; in his current condition, if he were awake, he'd probably fall right into the ocean and become Gyarados bait.

That would've been rather unfortunate for the both of them - Darkrai for obvious reasons, and Cresselia... well, he was her counterpart, and you couldn't have one without the other - so she simply swallowed her pride and obliged. Their islands were in close proximity, much more than any of the other legendaries. They were "out in the middle of nowhere", as Darkrai was fond of putting it.

Cresselia could see Newmoon Island looming on the horizon now, and she quickened her hover; the sooner she could get Darkrai back to his island, the sooner she could get back to her own and go to sleep. That was the thing with Arceus' shindigs... they were always rather tiring, even for someone who sat on the sidelines most of the time like herself. And having to drag her own weight along with Darkrai's wasn't helping in the slightest.

After what felt like forever, she finally found herself hovering onto the shoreline and toward Darkrai's cave. "Wake up," she said, turning to nudge him with her snout, "we're here."

There was no response. She would've been tempted to check for a pulse if this wasn't the way it happened every time.

He's going to have a headache the size of a Wailord when he wakes up, she thought with a sigh. Maintaining a steady hover, she inverted herself in midair, unceremoniously dumping him onto the ground next to the puddle that was the heart of the island. Her job done, she started to float back out of the cave--

--and would've been more successful had it not been for the tug on her wing.

Cresselia turned to look at him in surprise. Of all of the things that were typical about this evening, this was not one of them - usually, she would drop him on the ground and high-tail it out of the cave before he could start launching Dark Pulses, but not this time. This time, he clung tightly to her wing, showing no conscious signs of letting go. She attempted to tug herself away, but his grip was solid; she idly wondered if he'd been a Krabby in a past life.

She stared down at his sleeping form. Disregarding the iron grip he had on her wing, he looked... oddly peaceful, for once. Sleeping wasn't something Darkrai did often (most of the time, he was inflicting nightmares on those who did sleep), but when he did it, it was rather enthralling. Cresselia watched him rest, pity etched on her face.

"What am I going to do with you...?" she muttered to no one.

She received no response. She hadn't expected any responses; it was more like she'd been asking herself that. Either way, it didn't look like she'd be going back to Fullmoon Island tonight, not with the way he was clutching her wing. It was probably against her better judgement - not like she was alert enough to really tell, she was that tired - but she slowly lowered herself down to the ground next to him. There was something about the way that he was curled up that made him look so... serene. Innocent, almost. Cresselia couldn't help but cuddle up closer to him, curling her wings around her body.

This certainly wasn't typical, but to be honest, she didn't really mind.

OKAY, SO. I've gotten a bunch of reviews saying that dear Ladylegs would be able to take more than a few shots.

My mind somehow made the assumption that Darky... somewhat ghostly form, body not very dense, not good at holding liquor. (Either that or Arceus has got some super potent stuff. I wouldn't be surprised.) And that's my view. It might be different than yours. It's not even really the point of the fic - well, Darky passing out is, but not how much he took in - so really, what's with all of the baww-ing?

...um lol it's a pokemon, no use in getting butthurt over it, amirite?