I think you guys will have fun reading this even though I personally think they are all out of character—I'll have you guys be the judge of that.

Specially calling out Mrs. Uzamaki – Dragneel, I hope you like this little shot. :3

Trapid: Thanks for your never-ending support dear, you never fail to liven up my day. ^_^

OoPoPcAnDy: I noticed the error but I was too lazy to change it. Thanks for pointing it out though. Here, a virtual cookie for your good deed (: :)

MaidenAlice: You're a new reviewer~ hi~

litanolastar: Glad that you do. Thanks for taking the time to read. :D

Fenris Jin: Thaks for clogging up my Yahoo! Mail with your reviews. It made my day.

Lia-nee and Sunny~ Thanks for giving me feedback while making this :D You guys are the best! huehuehue

To all that followed and clicked this as their favorite, thanks~

~May the fortress be with you~

Clubbing

Hic

Jack giggled, finding the strange constriction of his chest and the sound that came after it both amusing and funny. Who knew he was capa –hic—ble of creating that funny noise? Hic. Heyyyyy, he's doing it again!

He cackled with glee, even throwing his head back in laughter before downing his Martini in one full swing. His face contorted with a bitter expression, not really appreciating the taste, but poured himself another shot, or at least, tried to. The alcohol completely missed the glass and instead was now trickling down the bar counter. He narrowed his eyes, frustrated that not one out of the three glasses dancing in front of him was filled no matter how much he poured.

"Jack, you're drunk." A hand reached out to get his drink.

"Hey!" He whined in protest as he tried to take the bottle back, "Would you stand still?!" He hissed as he lunged at one of the three figures that looked like Kristoff and fell into a belly flop on one of the stools.

"That proved my point." Kristoff sighed as he grabbed the wasted mass of his friend to set him straight, "I was completely standing still." He controlled the exasperation in his voice as though he was scolding a kid—but given Jack's current mentality, he might as well be scolding an overgrown kid. He rolled his eyes. Hiccup was right, this was a bad idea. He should've followed his scrawny friend than follow the ill-advice of the passed out Eugene who's currently snoozing on the floor and comically hugging the stool as if it was a teddy bear, his face snuggling against the cushions where his butt should've been. "Look," He said sternly with a strained voice, "I should take you home before—"

"Ooh look!" Jack giggled again, cutting off whatever the former was about to say, stretching one of his weak limbs into the space behind Kristoff, "She's hot." He whistled appreciatively, nodding as if he had set some very important goal for himself. He pushed Kristoff's face away from him and attempted to right himself until he hiccuped, again. "I," He pointed at himself with his thumb, "call dibs on that lady." He pointed at the approaching silhouette, "'Ya hear—hic—me?" He then gave him an 'I'm watching you sign' before he confidently strolled over to the lady he was talking about.

Kristoff sighed, not bothering to hide his exasperation as he watched his friend make a fool of himself. To his shock, he saw his sister-in-law, arms crossed and glaring daggers at a very drunk Jack.

Oh boy.

He stepped forward, feeling the need to assist his friend but decided against it knowing that it wouldn't be a good idea and that receiving an earful of incessant scolding isn't what he's needing.

Instead, he sat on a stool, ordered a bottle of water and watch as the scene unfolded in front of him—and maybe film it while he's at it. He's sure Anna would be amused. He mused mischievously in his thoughts as he simultaneously pulled out his phone.

-x-

To say that it's not going well is a kind way of putting it.

"Excuse —hic—me, miss."

Elsa was, at first, surprised to hear that despite the ear-shattering, fast-paced, sex-me-up music echoing all over the room (she could almost swear she could feel the ground quaking because of all that musical vibration) but was quick to get over it as she turned her head at the sound of that deep baritone voice and was frankly unsurprised to see a drunkard in silvery white hair making his way towards her despite looking very much ready to collapse. She huffed, haughtily, knowing fully well that there's an incredibly high chance that that blubbering fool is referring to her. He was waving at her. She had to be blind not to figure that out. She rolled her eyes. She had important matters to attend and yet this guy is—

"I think you owe me a drink."

…hitting on her. He actually had the nerve to HIT. ON. HER.

If she wasn't annoyed, she would've commended him for his valiance.

She inwardly groaned, obviously exasperated since she just doesn't have time for these, while outwardly maintaining a calm façade that seemed to have become her de facto expression whenever she's met with such…idiosyncratic situations very much alike her current predicament. "And why is that?" She fully faced him, arms crossed on top of her chest and looking the farthest from amused.

He seemed to be able to regain his balance as he stood straight for quite a while before he leaned towards her, his drunken breath infiltrating her nostrils and making her wrinkle her nose in obvious distaste. "Because when I looked at you, I dropped the one I was drinking." He muttered, his eyes glancing not-so-discretely on her cherry red lips.

She leaned away, nearly mortified at his act of indecency yet at the same time, feeling incredibly smug that she's still able to seduce a guy in a club at the happy age 27 (Yippie! Cue sarcasm)—which is very unlike her usual self. Still, it's kind of empowering for the good ol' ego. "It's not my fault, now, is it?" She cocked a brow, shooting down his lame attempt of a pick-up line.

He slithered to her side, completely ignoring her remark as he took note of her navy colored, body hugging, tube dress that accentuated every bit of her curves and ending modestly at three inches above her knees. "You look cold, sweet," he snaked his arms around her, "Want to use me as a blanket?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She only scoffed, slapping his hands away from her as she sashayed towards the bar, weaving her way through the crowd and scowling at the appalling sight of people grinding against each other. Goodness, they need a proper bedroom. She tore her eyes from the horrifying sight and turned her attention back on him, "You're drunk." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world—which kind of is.

She heard him hiccup and wondered where he got the strength to scramble behind her accounting the fact that he's more than moderately drunk. He should collapse any time and that thought isn't an inviting prospect.

She shook her head out of mild exasperation—and partly to get rid of the smell of sweat and drugs that had thickly graced the air with its undoubtedly putrid scent. How could people stand this place? It's loud and noisy and cluttered with drunken people—definitely not her cup of tea.

She noticed Kristoff, drinking calmly from a water bottle with his smartphone tucked suspiciously in his breast pocket, and Eugene, drunkenly passed out on a stool. She wrinkled her nose before catching her brother-in-law's eyes and giving him a look.

He only shrugged and smiled back sheepishly, gesturing to the passed out dude as if saying 'it's his idea.'

At least he's the most decent out of the three. She kind of figured that the guy that's hitting on her came along with them.

"I'm not drunk." Said guy tried to deny, "I'm only—hic—intoxicated by you."

She wanted to stuff her ears with cotton.

Gosh! Could he get any worse?

Begrudgingly, she sat on a stool that's near Kristoff (around two seats away), politely shaking her head when the bartender asked her what she wanted to drink before turning her attention back at him, arms crossed, back straight with the back of her right knee on top of her left thigh and the skirt of her dress slightly hiking up to reveal more of her snowy white skin, "Uh-huh." She narrows her eyes at him.

"So, snowflake," he leaned in closer with no ounce of neither self-restraint nor gentlemanly persuasion but only with plain drunken impulse and alcohol-driven brain, hiccuping once in a while, "Do you have a boyfriend?" He tried to lean on the bar counter in what she believed was to be in a suave manner but only succeeded in keeping himself from toppling over the air when his elbow hit an empty space. He must be seeing double. She needed to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling.

Despite being drunk, he's quick.

And he's definitely amusing despite being annoying.

Oh goodness… seeing him, she sort of wished she doesn't have a boyfriend. She mentally winced before letting a wry smirk grace her lips. Her eyes now shone with mild amusement and through Jack's hazy eyes, she looks like the epitome of a vixen wearing an angelic disguise and it kind of, sort of… okay, it really thrills him.

"No." She replied. She technically isn't lying anyway and seeing his entire expression light up as if he was beaming from the inside with (a deceptively) childish glee made it totally worth it.

Now to crush him into ashes…

"But I have a fiancé." She quickly amended, her smirk turning into a sadistically smug grin in response to his ugly scowl.

"I bet I'm more handsome than him." He boasted raising his lean arms to flaunt his not-so-visible muscles (it's there, but you have to squint your eyes a bit) when his friend's boisterous laughter interrupted him. He whipped his head to face Kristoff, failing to notice Elsa's exasperated expression, and growled at him, "Shut—hic— up! Don't ruin my chance for a d—hic—ate, man!" He said that with the intent to make Kristoff shut up, but said man only guffawed even more which startled Eugene and woke him up screaming, 'DON'T HIT ME WITH THE FRYING PAN!' before collapsing again.

Jack scowled even more before he turned to face the pretty lady again and noticed that there are two of them instead of one of her but quickly figured that it's the booze acting up and only one of them is real and the other one, a mirage.

He stares at the one he thinks is her, though in reality, he's staring in no one particular and Elsa (the real one) nearly sighs.

"In terms of looks," She drawled in a way that showed how far she is from being amused, "You are on par." And she's being honest with that, "But I prefer him because he's sober." Her glare passes through him like a knife, almost akin to a mother scolding a misbehaving child. Her eyes were sharp and scrutinizing and a hint of chastisement wasn't hidden in her voice—it was almost like she's blaming him.

But stubborn as he was, he remained undeterred, "I'm sure I'll be—hic—sweeping you off your feet in n—hic— no time and you'll be brea—hic—king up with him!"

If she had restrained before, now she had no qualms in actually sighing and she hears Kristoff's laugh. Elsa, though, could be rather cold when she needed and expertly silenced him with one single glare, "You do realize you're saying that you want me to break up with you so that I could be with you?" She asked. The lilt in her tone was enough to express her annoyance and frustration with her idiot fiancé, disregarding the fact that it also hinted a fair amount of amusement.

How on earth was he able to convince her to marry him again? He's worst when drunk—wait, not worst, but more like 'embarrassing'.

She can't believe she's thinking how she'd rather choose cocky Jack over extremely drunk Jack. Goodness, she'll choose the former over the latter any day and that's already sacrificing a lot. Cocky Jack is annoying Jack.

He blinked, scrunching his nose like a little kid (and adorably so! Elsa had no idea how he does it, but goodness, how could he pull of cool and cute at the same time? ) with his brows furrowed in concentration as if he's letting the words gradually sink. When it finally did, he offered her a lopsided smile, hiccuped and then said, "Well, aren't I a very lucky guy?" He chuckled as a flicker of sobriety masked his features, his eyes glazed in what she could decipher as…fondness but when she blinked, it was gone and replaced with his infamous crooked smile (that always gets her) and a dreamy look in his eyes (which is admittedly weird yet endearing).

She swallowed the invisible lump that formed in her throat as she calmly and elegantly arched one perfect eyebrow, bracing herself for another round of sickly, sappy, romantic mush. She should be rightfully mad at him for overstaying in this ludicrous place (and give Eugene an earful that could last a lifetime while she's at it) but it's his bachelor's party and considering that some guys take it to the extreme by going in a strip club and probably actually sleeping with a stripper… he's forgivable.

Actually, overstaying isn't the problem. It's the fact that he got that intoxicated that irritated her more than anything although she must appraise him for still being able to talk without slurring…yet.

At least she now knows that an extremely drunk Jack is a mushy Jack. Mushy Jack is better than violent Jack. Although she is yet to see her fiance unleash any sort of hatred-induced violence so she concludes she won't be seeing it anytime soon.

She exhaled air loudly as she waited, rather expectantly.

His body swayed as he leaned closer to her, his hiccups now ceasing and his sight still looking at the empty space behind her as if that's where she was sitting, his body a mere few inches from hers as she backed against the counter and said, no, slurred this time (she vaguely wonders if she jinxed it), "Because I—hic— fell in love with a beautifuuul ladyyy whom I contwos, continwas, co-con—"

"Continuously" She pointed out with a slight wag of her right index finger in the air, rolling her eyes as she aided him, trying to appear nonchalant even though the faint blush on her cheeks stated otherwise.

"Yeah, that." He mumbled, nodding resolutely, "Whom I continuously fall in love with, drunk or sobeeerrr." Then he fainted, collapsing on her lithe frame.

Maybe she won't hold this incident against him for some time.

~May the fortress be with you~

Do you like it? Sorry if you think the end is kind of lame. Huehuehuehuehue… and I'm sorry for going into a hiatus too. I was being indecisive again since I don't know what to write—oh, excuse me, choose to finish for the next update. I've got a lot more unfinished drafts piled up but I have no idea which one to finish first. XD It'll depend on the mood.

Hey, if you like this story so much, read on for the extra scene:

Jack woke up the next day with a splitting headache—the kind of headache were you think an axe was directly being smashed on your skull for the sick pleasure of splitting it open. He groaned, "Damn! My head hurts."

Upon hearing his voice, Kristoff, who is kind of the one assigned to babysit both of his friends, cocked his head slightly to the side as he crossed his arms, an amused smile crossing his face as if he was directly looking at a jester or some idiot or something, "It should be. You had it badly yesterday." There was a light chastisement in his tone but it was mostly covered with his amusement so it was either Jack actually didn't hear the scolding or he was deliberately ignoring it by focusing on massaging his temples. Kristoff thinks it's the latter even though it's hard to tell. His friend really did seem in pain.

Jack slapped his palm on his forehead, groaning at the pain and cursing at the world. He's starting to question why on earth he let himself be persuaded by that stupid Flynn—Eugene, whatever. God! Eugene should've stuck with the nickname of Flynn, less confusion that way. He just had to use his real name when he met Rapunzel to 'show he's a changed man'. Yea right, he still wants to party every night although he no longer checks out on other girls... "Did I do anything stupid?" He lifts his palm a bit, cracking one eye to look at his friend who was casually sitting near the bed on a wooden chair.

"Oh," The blonde man hummed, "Not much." He replied nonchalantly, teasing his friend rather than easing his worries because, really, that's what friends do.

Jack huffed, closing his eyes as he slid his hand down his face, the pads of his fingers massaging his cheeks, "What do you mean?" He opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow as he slowly sat up.

"You only asked your fiancé if she was single." Kristoff answered a little-too noncommittally.

Jack groaned again, his body sluggish and absolutely wasted, "Should I ask if I'm now single after hearing that statement?" He slumped, a grumble on his lips.

Kristoff gives him an amused, semi-sympathetic look.

Jack looks at him and widens his eyes. "I didn't fuck anything up now, did I?"

Kristoff chuckles, "Lucky you, you're fiancé is not breaking it off yet." He smiled smugly, loving the fact that the tables had turned and he's now the one teasing Jack and not the other way around. He adjusted his sitting position so that he could bend comfortably as he propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his clasped hands.

"Yet…?" Jack asked, partly dreadful yet mostly flabbergasted, "What do you mean yet?!"

Kristoff actually had the audacity to smirk, "The shenanigans you did yesterday went viral in the internet."

And Jack, quite understandably given the situation, fainted…again.

The End.

Hi~! I would like to apologize for the lack of balance.

I'm not entirely sure what a club looks like in the inside (I've only had a peek of their either shabby or ridiculously fancy exterior) since I'm not legally of age yet (and even if I was, loud music doesn't sit in well with me) so I was just basing it from all those American and local films I had watched and guessing that it probably smells like sex, sweat, drugs and alcohol or something. Even then, I found it disheartening how I just couldn't pull of the setting well because really, I lack imagination. Ugh. I suck.

So forgive me if I wasn't able to achieve that… perfect (for the lack of better term) equilibrium between the setting, the characters and the story.

Although I am hoping to improve myself in that department seeing that I write fictional stories and imagination is such a crucial ingredient in it.

Feel free to help me with anything else.

Love lots,

Rose (Haven't done this in a while XD)

PS: For those who follow Aeternum, The Looking Glass and Moonlit Night, I might be able to update them before the end May. Hopefully, procrastination wouldn't bet the best of me. I'm halfway done with all three of them anyway.