He should have never let her drink that much. A cocktail too much, a shot too many, and the now-of-age girl had gotten completely wasted.

Of course, he thought a drunken, stumbling Sonja would be hilarious to watch. The thought of her toppling over as she tried to show the others she could walk just fine, or hiccupping when denying she had too much to drink would be a hilarious (and cute- though he'll never say it) sight to see.

Joe could be a ridiculously stupid man at times.

Because with his stupidity, his lovely desire to see her being shy and unconvincing had egged the man to give her just a little bit more alcohol than intended. Needless to say –and because karmas a bitch-, his perfectly sculpted vision of the girl he fancied had gone awry. Because instead of sputtering and stammering and denying, something Joe would have loved to see, she proclaimed it to the heavens that she, in fact, was totally and completely drunk. Her words were loud and brash, and her movements were footloose and fancy-free.

That's why, with utter embarrassment, he isolated himself and cowered behind his glass of wine near the corner of the room as the girl staggered around, chatting drunkenly with islanders who were invited to her eighteenth birthday party, hosted at the inn.

"Damn," He heard a voice half-laughing, and he saw Sierra come up to his table and pull up a chair to sit down with him, taking a swig of her beer with a smug smile, "How much did you give her?" She asked, tapping her fingers against the nose of the bottle as if she just knew he was the reason the birthday girl was acting this way. Joe looked over his shoulder and saw Sonja laughing hysterically, leaning against James as he shared a laugh, though much more subdued, with her. The party wouldn't be over for another couple hours. He would have to deal with that for another couple hours. Groaning, he let his head hit the table. That should be him she's currently leaning and laughing on.

"A couple shots, a couple mojitos," He grumbled, faintly hearing how funny Sonja thought James was behind him, "a beer…" His voice trailed off.

There was silence between the two for a couple seconds. "And…?" Sierra persisted, and Joe could practically hear her stupid smile get wider. He looked at the crimson liquid in front of him.

"Maybe a glass of wine or two…"

The girl snickered, taking another sip from her bottle and observing Joe's alcohol-induced creation compare height between herself and Bismark, "You just never know when to quit, do you, adventure boy?"

"It's not my fault she wanted to try all that new stuff! I just gave her what she wanted!" Joe shot back up from his slouched position and denied, putting his hands up in defense. Sierra raised an eyebrow playfully. Please. No one gets that drunk from 'trying new stuff,' and Sierra knew that. "Oh really?" She challenged, and Joe nodded quickly.

"Yes!"

She leaned forward to her elbows and knotted her fingers together under her chin; looking at the silly girl, "Then enlighten me on why she's holding one of Bacchus's favorite wine in her hand." Sierra stated, gesturing with a nod of her head to what was behind him. Joe looked confused for a second, and then turned around slowly, seeing Sonja put her lips to a bottle and chug happily as everyone around her cheered. The bottle was of a fine wine, all the way from the finest vineyards in Norad. Joe knew that because his grandfather had spent all his days telling him that it was one of the fairest, and most expensive, wines he loved to drink; it was his favorite, partly because it had a very high alcohol rate. It was so expensive he only bought it about three times a year. And it was in the freelance fingers of a boozed up Sonja.

Joe cringed; he must have given it to her by mistake. It was his old geezer's last bottle.

"Besides, doesn't Sonja hate wine?"

And she had just almost dropped it a few seconds ago.

He spun back around, as if to escape the moment his grandfather burst through the door and chopped off his head. "Oh shoot oh shoot oh shoot oh shoot the old man is gonna kill me!" Joe seethed, running his hands through his hair anxiously. M-maybe he could blame it on someone else? Fill it back up with a different wine? No. Death was now surely inevitable.

The girl beside him just laughed, finishing off the last drops of her beer and was now feeling a bit warm. "Ha. I knew it was you who gave her all that alcohol! You got her totally wasted!"

"It's not as if she wasn't going to get drunk anyways! It's her eighteenth; on my eighteenth birthday I nearly passed out from all the drinks I had!"

"Yeah I remember that. You also puked all over my brother," She laughed harder, "not that that was a bad thing. I thought it was hilarious."

Joe put his head on the table again and didn't say anything for a while. Just listened to the others chatting and the drunk girl's high-pitched voice loudly slurring her words. After a couple minutes, he heard a chair scoot towards him.

"Why'd you do it?"

He raised his head a bit and saw that Sierra was sitting closer to him, resting on her elbows, "huh?"

"I said why did you do it? You never do stuff like that… to my knowledge at least."

Joe sighed, rubbing his tired eyes, "She seems so uptight and stressed all the time… I just wanted to see her be totally free for a couple hours…" He rubbed the back of his head as his face flushed, "I was also thinking- I might just… confess to her how I feel. That way she won't remember it and I won't be that embarrassed when she rejects me."

She looked puzzled for a few seconds, before her face deadpanned. "You were going to confess to her."

"Yes."

She blinked. "While she's drunk."

"Well… yeah."

Sierra hit him on the back of his head, hard. Joe yelped in pain.

"What was that for?" He asked, putting a hand to the tender area of his skull. Sierra looked at him with a confused, almost angry expression.

"Are you stupid? You were going to confess to her while she's drunk?" She spat, floundering her hands in the air. Joe looked at her getting all worked up. Why was she so angry?

"Yeah, what's so wrong with that?" He answered back harshly, and he cowered back when her hand flinched towards him. She was almost about to hit him again, but stopped. He didn't realize- He didn't know about how Sonja felt? Even when all the hints and clues were there? The redheaded girl pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. How could he be so oblivious? She glared up at him.

"Well, it doesn't help when you're the one who gave her all those drinks." She tried to reason.

He squinted back at her. "You were the one who gave her permission to drink whatever liquor she wanted, if I recall correctly." He was right. Sierra brought a collection of different liquors to the party as a sort of birthday gift. She was a bit responsible as well.

"Wooooooo! Aw, yeah! Let'sss ddance the whhhoooollle night ev'rybody!" Sonja called out, and the two both turned around. Everyone was trying to keep her steady, laughing and talking amongst themselves as Sonja flailed her arms and legs trying to dance. The sight cracked a smile on Joe's face, and Sierra chuckled, breaking their tension-building accusations. They both watched as she began to fall, just in time for one of her best friends, Aden, to step in catch her in his arms. The two drunken friends both began to laugh as he helped her back on her wobbly legs. Joe's smile slowly faded and he turned away and drank the last drops of his wine.

'Ah,' Sierra thought, looking at his downcast expression, having a revelation. She leaned towards him, her features softening. "You think that Sonja likes Aden, don't you?" She asked, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Well, yeah." Joe agreed, "I mean- they were trapped in the same body for about a year, plus they were practically best friends since childhood," He scoffed at himself and shook his head, picking up the wine glass and observing every fracture of light that hit it, "It's the type of plotline for a typical romantic play or musical. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

She didn't answer; Sierra just shook her head and began to laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked, shocked and almost hurt at her reaction when he basically told her his biggest fear. He shrugged her hand off his shoulder, but she was still laughing.

"Tell me," She asked through bouts of small giggles, "when was the first time you saw Sonja?"

He looked at her strangely, "Um… a couple months after they moved here… I think?"

"And how long was Sonja in Aden's body for?"

Joe was not following. "A year or so?"

He was still not putting the pieces together, the girl could tell. "Everyone could hear her, but you do realize that you were the only one who could see Sonja when no one else could, right? The sole person. Not even Aden could see her."

He put the glass back down frustratingly and squared his body towards her, "What are you trying to tell me?"

She groaned loudly once more, and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. "I'm trying to tell you that you and Sonja have some special connection! And I'm sure she thinks the same way!" If he could not understand what she was getting at after practically spelling it out for him, she swore she would shoot him.

He nodded slowly as if he understood, but there was still a bit of confusion in his golden eyes. "And that means…"

Her lips straightened in a hard line. Joe was lucky she didn't have any weapon of some sort on her. Sierra stared at him for a few seconds, before running a tired hand through her hair and exhaling deeply. She gave up. "It means, that Sonja likes you back. Not just likes you, but like likes you. And I'm sure she would be ecstatic if you were to go and confess to her." She explained slowly as if he were a child. For all intents and purposes he might as well be. His eyes lit up after a couple seconds, and he leaned up straight and gave a huge childish grin.

"Wait… r-really?"

She nodded, tired.

Joe certainly wasn't though. "Ha!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands together, "Well…what should I do now?" He leaned towards her, anticipating her precious answer.

"I don't know. Go tell her how you feel I guess… her drunk-y-ness seems to be settling down, so I think she'll be a bit more coherent. Unless you want to wait a couple days to do so she can get over her hangover- which I highly recommend."

"No!" He stated, putting his fist in the palm of his hand, "It's now or never!"

'Whatever you say," she added as the man got up out of his chair with unsteady legs and looked at Sonja, who was now sitting at the bar, drinking some water and talking to Odette as the party was starting to gradually fizzle out. With each step he took, his growing nervousness was beginning to make his heart flutter the more he got near her. He slid into the stool next to her, and asked Odette for some water.

Sonja cocked her head towards him and gave the man a goofy smile after noticing him. "Joe," She said his name with joy, "Where've ya been this whole tim-me? I didn't seee you fer awhile." She slurred, hiccupping a little.

"I was just in the back, talking with Sierra a-about some stuff." He couldn't help but blush when he was around her, though his tanned skin did a good job of hiding it. The smaller girl giggled, tapping her fingers against the polished table, "about wwwwhaattt?"

This would be the part where Joe lied and told her that they were talking about fishing or treasure of some sort to hide his embarrassment. He looked at the glass mug in front of her that was laced with rings of beer foam and felt a surge of empowerment. Now he didn't need to. He leaned in closer to her, smelling the whiskey and beer she drank, and put his open palm flat on the counter, one that was dangerously close to hers. His fingers twitched when she blushed, but her eyes never left his.

"About you. About how pretty you are, about your smile and your hair… about how much I like you." He said sincerely and smoothly, and Sonja's mouth pursed into a straight line, quivering for a few seconds before she began laughing hysterically, holding her hands to her stomach. "Realllly?" She choked out between fits of laughter, smacking her palm against the bar counter as if it were the funniest thing in the world. That made Joe nervous. Was Sierra lying? He anxiously looked back at her for a second just to see her absent-mindedly pick at her fingernails.

His mind was racing with sudden regret before she responded. "I lllikkee you too." Sonja finally replied, her explosive laughter dying down to a giddy smile. Joe spun back around and she suddenly flung herself onto him, no longer shy. They were both knocked out of their bar stools and Joe was now struggling to regain his balance and not fall over with the significantly smaller girl on him. Everyone was looking at them now. Her uninhibited closeness was still giving him butterflies. She wrapped her arms around his neck and threw her head back, giggling.

"Kisssss me." She cooed, her emerald eyes gazing intently at him.

"W-what?"

She just chuckled, nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. "I saaiid," She began, nibbling on his ear, "Kiss me." He felt her leg wrap around his thigh and her soft fingers run down his chest seductively, sending a shiver down his spine.

The man pulled away from her sticky grasp for a second, his eyebrows knitting together. Everyone was looking at him with sly smiles –except for Aden, who looked like he was about to kill him- even Sonja. He was suddenly washed with a wave of regret. He looked down at her and saw her half-lidded eyes; her short rosy hair ruffled under her hairpiece, how weakly her knees gave support to her body, and frowned. This isn't how a confession is supposed to be. It's supposed to be shy and gradual, building up to a huge finale…!

He should have waited until she was sober enough to understand and accept his feelings. It was almost like he was taking advantage of her.

As he put his hands on her shoulders and opened his mouth, about to restrain both of them from their own feelings, she took this as an open opportunity to kiss him. Her mouth crashed onto his, a sweet groan emanating from her throat as she pulled him down by his jacket collar to her level.

That definitely took him by surprise. He'll admit, he had always sinfully imagined how soft her lips were whenever the two were talking together or when she sang and he silently listened; like flower petals or velvet because they looked so soft and smooth. He sometimes wondered what it would be like kissing them, and then he would remember that she was standing right in front of him and that he was a manly man, and feel his whole face go red… but he was right. They were soft, tender. But the brute force behind it was overpowering, and he could taste the sharp medley of alcohol on her tongue. He heard other voices booming around him, sounding surprised and happy, but there was a sudden hunger in him that emerged and it was the only thing he could wrap his fingers around at the moment. A hunger for her lips, her hair, face, her affection. He wanted her to love him…but not like this. Not while said girl is wasted and incoherent. He wanted her to love him when she was just… herself. No strings attached.

He wondered if Sonja felt the same way he did.

Sonja could definitely feel something, though it wasn't close to being hunger. She felt low, viscid rumbles rolling throughout her stomach, creeping fast up her throat, leaving it disgustingly humid as she slid her tongue around his, that's what she felt. For that moment the drunken girl's head wasn't foggy; it became clear enough to know that all the birthday booze and loving-life liquor might have proven to be a bit too much. Bile jellied her throat and the back of her gums, and she tried to pull her head away in time to run to the nearest bucket.

It was too late; her stomach seized, and a hot, sour liquid sloshed and sailed from her throat and into both of their mouths. She tried to turn away as fast as she could, but it was inevitable as some landed in his mouth and on his jacket. Everyone watched, including a beyond-amused Sierra, as the man made a beeline towards the bathroom, gagging, while Sonja coughed and heaved more vomit onto the floor. Some of the girls rushed towards her with towels and water, others just laughed because they remember that's exactly how they were when they drank for the first time. Aden was giving a surreptitious and cunning smile, gazing in the direction Joe ran.

Joe had been washing his mouth out for the seventh time when the bathroom door opened.

"I told ya you should have waited until she was sober…" Someone who he guessed was Sierra said in a matter-of-fact voice. He turned around with his mouth filled with toothpaste and saw her leaning against the wall, polishing her nails against the front of her shirt condescendingly.

"Eu donee oo el me wice" He garbled, squinting at her. The girl jokingly cupped a hand around her ear, raising an eyebrow.

"What was that?" She teased, "I couldn't hear you."

Joe spit out the goop into the sink. His taste buds felt numb from all the mint, and he wiped his mouth on his jacket, walking closer to her and casting a shadow over her face.

"You don't need to tell me twice." He re-muttered feeling defeated.

The girl smiled coyly back at him. "That's what I thought you said." She answered, patting his back and striding to the mirror. She was fixing her hair, although there was nothing to actually fix because her hair was cropped just below her ears in an almost boy-cut style. She more just played around with the red strands of her hair, humming to herself and looking at her reflection. Joe looked at his and saw and a tired man with a tint of darkness under his eyes, his broad body shivering in his undershirt because he had to toss his soiled jacket away, his vermillion-colored hair askew from the girl's hands running through it.

He suddenly remembered that Sonja was probably still in the main hall, still sick, and that made him worried; even if she had puked all over him. He hoped she didn't feel bad about all of this… he hoped that she wouldn't get mad at him either. Because, being the person she is, Sonja would. But he loved her for that. He saw his prominent worry in his reflection's face, and then started walking towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

Joe looked at Sierra and half-smiled, "Someone has to help her get home, right?"

When he finally saw her, she was at the counter, wilted in her barstool like a dead flower. Her clothes had been tossed and she was dressed in some of Odette's pajamas; she seemed to be suffering from the early affects of hangover. Everyone had already left; some of the ladies were fixing toppled chairs and cleaning up empty beer cups and party favors. The area that Sonja had retched on was spotless.

Odette saw him and motioned over to Sonja with a nod of her head while she was sweeping. He complied, walking over to her and slipping into the stool next to hers. Her head was still on the table, and he could barely see that she was trembling. Her hand was wrapped around the half-empty glass of water in front of her, fingers solid and firm.

"Hey." He said to her, leaning in closer to her body. She didn't budge an inch; although he could see her fingers tighten around her water. His mouth pursed worriedly.

"Are you feeling any better…?" He continued, slouching his shoulders and resting his stubbly chin on the cool marble, reaching head level. She let out a small groan in response, and he wished he could see her face, but her short hair had veiled it.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" Joe chuckled, trying to reinforce light-heartedness in the situation. The last thing he wanted was for her to be angry; at herself or at him… maybe if she saw that he wasn't mad, she would feel better? Or possibly make it worse, depending on how she was feeling. Sonja finally leaned up, her shoulder blades sticking out and she practically lugged her head up along with the rest of her, and looked at him. Her eyes were ruddy and swollen, and where her tears had trailed down her cheeks, they left a flushed trail with it. Her mouth was in a regretful frown, the outline of her lips slightly quivering. The man felt a pang of guilt run through his body.

Joe, you dumbass. This is all your fault.

Her mouth began to tremble again, and fresh buds of tears threatened to spill over. She let out a small sob, clutching her stomach.

"I-I'm sorry Joe. I d-didn't mean to th-th-throw up in your mouth. I couldn't turn away in time…" She admitted, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Joe hesitated with grabbing her hands, not sure how she would react, so he just left them fall by his sides.

"Sonja," he began, drawing in a deep breath and watching as she looked at him curiously, "…this was all my fault. I gave you all those drinks, all those shots and margaritas… I'm the reason you're stone-cold drunk," he sighed. Sonja looked at him incredulously.

"I still d-drank every drop you gave me," the girl argued.

"It was still my fault." He scooted closer to her.

"I threw up in your mouth." She did the same.

"It was still my fault."

"But-"

"Sonja," He pleaded, finally getting the nerve to grab her hands, feeling their warmth in his calloused ones, "this is all my fault. I was the one who wanted to see you drunk, so I gave you all those drinks. You know, so you'd loosen up a little bit and have fun. I just- I thought it would help me… tell you how I felt…make me less nervous…" Joe explained, and watched Sonja's face blushed a soft blanket of pink on her already flushed cheeks. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued, "I was stupid-heck; I still am stupid. But… please don't think this was your fault. It was mine." He gently squeezed her hands, "All mine."

She didn't say anything for the longest time: just kept her small mouth slightly agape, staring at a spot on the counter that wasn't there. The man… he wasn't sure what she was feeling, and that scared him. Immensely.

Great. I just dug my own grave.

He wouldn't be surprised if she hated him from now on. But her hands were still in his, never twitched and she made no effort to even change the position of them. That was a good sign…right?

She gazed up at him after what seemed like a lifetime, looking at him as if seeing the sun for the first time, "…Yeah, it is your fault."

Or not.

Before he had time to stutter incoherent and rapid-fire apologies to try and persuade her to at least think of him as anything but an enemy, she smiled goofily and flipped her hands outwards, now taking his larger ones in her palms, "…But I still… really like you," she confessed, "And for your punishment, you're going to have to deal with me for however long I have my hangover." The girl declared with a tone of finality.

Joe couldn't have been more relieved in his life. He gave a shaky laugh, letting all his past anxieties tumble out, and he solely focused on the girl in front of him "What does that include?"

"Getting me food, doing all my errands, making sure I'm as comfortable as a recovering-drunk can possibly be. And many more backbreaking tasks that will definitely persuade you to never even think about giving me another drink. Ever. Again." She stated, grabbed him by the collar and squinting at him menacingly before putting a weary hand to her forehead, "And you can start by carrying me home because my head is killing me."

He smiled genuinely for the first time that night, "Of course, ma'am."

He picked her up and swung the girl onto his back, knotting his arms underneath her for support as she wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her face into his shoulder blade, instantly falling asleep as Joe walked out the door.

He just laughed.

Okay, I wrote this really quickly, so that's why it really stinks. But I had the idea for a while, so I just thought I'd power through it or something… Maybe I'll redo it in the future? There is a serious lack of Sonja and Joe fics- heck, ToD fics in general! I'll most likely write more about these two in the future.
Also in the process of a multi-chapter ToD fic called Tidal Waves, so be on the lookout!
Review!