Author's Note: Wow, finally I get to have a chapter on my OWN story.

"Kara. Kaaaaraaaaaaaaaaaaa."

"Yes, Mon-El?" Kara Danvers leaned into his line of sight.

"Why are you mooooooooving?" Mon-El slurred, placing his palms down on the hard wood of the table and leaned forward.

She shook her head, and glanced at the glass on the tabletop. "How many of those have to had?"

"I don't knoooow." Mon-El laughed loudly.

Kara waved to someone behind the bar. "Can we get a glass of water, please? Actually, make that two."

"And some shhhhhhots!" Mon-El called. He beamed at her. "You need to have some shhhhots. But not Winn Schhhhots."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing, but he really was a cute drunk. "I'm not drinking, Mon-El. Last time I made a complete fool of myself. That's not happening again."

Mon-El placed his chin on his palm. "Just a few. Not too many." His head slumped sideways for a moment, but popped back up almost immediately. "Whoa! I'm awake." He studied her. "Come on, Kaaaara... just one."

Kara leaned back in her booth and smiled. "I really don't think that's a good idea."

"How about this." Mon-El took a gulp of water that the blue-skinned waitress placed in front of him. It seemed to sober him up some, at least enough to see straight and talk correctly. "We make a deal."

"I remember how well that worked last time." Kara said, shaking her head. "As in, you didn't actually hold up your end of a deal."

Mon-El frowned. "A Daxamite always holds up his end of a deal. It's part of his code of honor." He clapped a clumsy hand to his heart. "Like boy scouts."

Kara laughed aloud this time, and a few pairs of strange, scale encrusted eyes turned her way- all extending from the same hulking beast of an alien. She quickly quieted, and turned her shoulder in more, too enclose their private conversation from prying eyes. "I don't think that Daxamites and boy scouts are really the same thing."

"Maybe not." Mon-El agreed, sagging his head to the side. "But my deal would be better than any boy scouts would be."

"Yeah?" Kara leaned forward a little more, leaving a few inches between their noses. "What's your deal, then, Daxamite?"

Lacing his fingers, Mon-El moved closer, too. One more inch, and... "If you, Kara Zor-El of Krypton, would drink a shot, I, Mon-El of Daxam, will go on a date with you."

Kara tilted her head, mock-consideration belying her thundering heart. She figured, what the heck? He wasn't going to remember this, anyway. "Something tells me, Mon-El, that you would go on a date with me even if I didn't drink that shot."

Mon-El sat back. "Fair point." He tapped his lips with his fingertips, deep in thought. "How about this: You drink a shot, I kiss you."

Kara's leg began to bounce under the table. Mon-El reached out and pressed on it with his hand, slowing it down. "Calm, Kara, calm. I know that kissing me is very exciting, but you don't need to break the floor." He grinned, and Kara was surprised not to smell any alcohol on his breath. "Do we have a deal?"

His hand was really warm on her leg. Really, really warm. It was distracting her, and so was the sound of the bar, and the hard wood of the table grain underneath her left hand... Kara was hyper-aware of everything around her, even more so then usual. "I suppose we do." She whispered.

Mon-El nodded, and slowly leaned forward. "I kiss you, you take a shot."

"Yeah." Kara breathed.

He closed the distance.

Kara froze. He didn't even taste like alcohol. Mon-El...

"You're not drunk!" Kara cried, pulling away abruptly by pushing her hands on his shoulders.

Mon-El pouted, and tried to kiss her again, but she held him back. "Oh no you don't." She glared. "You were just tricking me this whole time!"

"I really did, didn't I?" Mon-El looked extremely pleased with himself. "You were totally fooled." He waved down a waitress, this one with spiky, multi-colored hair. "Can you bring us two shots, please? The Hyper-Ale brand?"

Kara glared at him, resisting the urge to heat her eyes up and scare him into letting her break their deal. "You- you- trickster! You totally-"

"Fooled you?" Mon-El said. "Yeah, we covered that."

Kara placed her hands down upon the table, trying not to get upset. Mon-El moved so he was in her line of sight. "Hey, you agreed to kiss me anyway. It's not like me being drunk or not really changes anything."

Biting her lip, Kara crossed her arms. "Fine, I will drink the shot. Be glad that I like you so much, Mr. Trickster."

He grinned. "Because you do like me so much, don't you, Miss Uptight."

"Miss Uptight!?" Kara's spine straightened. "Don't you push your luck."

"Would kissing you again be considered pushing my luck?" Mon-El asked.

"Yes." Kara growled. She grabbed the shot from the waitress as soon as she put it down, and shoved it back. Immediately, fuzziness clouded her brain. "What is this?

"Hyper-Ale." Mon-El told her, taking his own shot with practices nonchalance, then choking on it, and coughing loudly.

She giggled, patting his cheek. He patted her's right back. "Want another, Miss Uptight."

"Nope!" Kara nodded, then shook her head. "Someone's gotta drive home tonight."

Slowly the explosive dizziness cleared, and Kara let out a sigh. "Man... that was some strong stuff."

Mon-El chuckled. "What would you do if I told you that was the weakest kind of Ale on the planet Misophene?"

"Never go to the planet Misophene." Kara said, staring at her glass.

He laughed once again, a little louder. Multi-eyes glanced over once more. They both ignored him this time, too wrapped up in each other.

"You aren't too mad, are you?" Mon-El murmured.

Kara smiled. "No. It was actually pretty good."

She paused, meeting his gaze once again. "For a Daxamite."

He grinned right back. "Ok, Kryptonian."

Author's Note: So yeah, a little bit shorter. But it was fun, anyway.