Disclaimer: blah. You no the drill. No OCs in this ficlet. *sigh* nevermind, a nerd.

Note: jus sumpin' I'm messin around with, so its quite short. Oh, and this ficcy doesn't have nething to do with my other stories.

OceanChild:buahaha. =D

Slime Frog: lol, dastardly . . . awesome . . .

Charliegirl: :/ sorry . . . u_u ill try 2 do better . . . it was confusing for me even to write.

ArtemisFowlWorld: lol *claps* hurrahness and guiltation!! Lol . . . guiltation . . . I luv that word . . . behold, Sam! Obsessor of the every luminating star of Sirius, and creator of the beatiful word 'guiltation' . . . what wonderful things we can create with untidy handwriting!!

Tampered Feelings

Chapter 3: The Glass Sipper

"Holly, Lili, I thought you weren't gonna show!" Foaly the Centaur grunted as Lili entered the giant ballroom, Holly tagging along at her side. Foaly raised a champagne glass.

"Oh, sure . . .You know us, fashionably late . . . " Lili muttered as Holly pulled her by her wrist towards the fountain of champagne. She thrust a glass deep into its depth, and drained it.

"Cheeeeers, Lil!" She said, an unusual jaunty smile playing with her cherubic lips, which were wet with champagne.

"Holly, I don't think you should have any more alcohol," Lili muttered, grinning sheepishly as she played tug-of-war with the champagne glass.

"Why not?" Holly demanded, looking deprived.

"Because your acting drunk," Hissed Lili, wrenching the glass from Holly's grasp.

"No I'm not," Holly said, her smile rising again, "I always act like this!"

Lili rolled her eyes and turned away, willing to walk away from Holly, as long as she wasn't suspected for getting her drunk . . . on purpose.

"Where yah goin'??" Holly demanded, giggling to herself.

"I . . . er, have to go talk to someone. Go dance or something." Lili murmured, nodding at the dance floor, where Grub Kelp stood, looking quite lonely.

Lili shot of in another direction, laying the glass back upon the punch table again.

"Okay!" Holly shrugged and wobbled off in the direction of Grub.

"Hey Grub. SOO . . . Nice party, huh, lots to drink . . ."

"Holly? I though you weren't here. I was looking for you." Grub said as he turned around quickly to face the Captain.

"Er. Yeah. Do you, uh wanna dance?" Holly asked. She was feeling so very confident since she'd had those two bottles of wine.

"Um." Grub looked extremely startled as he ran his hand over his round face, which was screwed up in concertration on where to put his arms. "Yeah. Sure."

Holly grinned, though she didn't know why, and placed her arms around Grub's neck, as he tentatively laid his pudgy hands on Holly's waist.

The stepped clumsily around for a little while, then Holly said, tilting her head sideways and squinting her eyes:

"You know, I like you Grub Kelp, I like you a lot." She ever-lingering smile was hitched up a few notches.

Grub's blimp-like face split in a wry, rusty smile, one that seemed reserved.

"Really? I like you too Holly! I've liked you a long-"

A somehow familiar, loud clash of broken glass stopped him in mid-sentence, and they both turned around abruptly.

"Oh-" A pixie nearby muttered, slapping her hand over her mouth.

An unfamiliar, crying brunette elf was clambering up from the mess of broken champagne bottles, a bit of blood smeared across the floor, from a cut on the female elf's wrist.

Holly noticed, as the punch-dipper bent down to help the girl, that there was a gnome standing behind the table.

"TOO BAD, AND DON'T YOU EVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN, SARLY!" The fat gnome rushed out of the door and a few sprites followed, reasoning loudly with him. The punch-dipper showed the less-than-pretty brunette elf into a backroom.

Holly just noticed that something had slid to her feet when the table had been overturned.

A pair of broken horn-rimmed spectacles stared up at her.

She hastily picked them up and placed them quietly into her pocket as though by instinct.

Holly, all of the sudden, felt suddenly nauseated and dizzy.

She clapped a hand over her mouth and began to quickly dodge through the people towards the safety of the restroom.

She returned from retching in the toilet twice, feeling put out and dizzier than before.

That's when it happened, walking back through the queue of talking people in the lobby.

She fainted, right then and there.

Trouble, who was conversing merrily with an old academy buddy, rushed to her aide.

It would have been funny, a little grin seeming to surpass the snoring Holly's face, had the situation not been so dire.

Trouble Kelp could smell the alcohol on Holly's breath, so he carried her, almost casually from his own party, glaring at starring passerby.

Commander Root was standing amuck a few smoking Sprites, puffing on his own fungus cigar.

"Gods, what happened Trouble?" He hissed, a jaunty smile fading from his wrinkles slowly as he lowered the cigar.

"It's alright, really, Commander. Holly's just . . . She's dead drunk. I can take her to my apartment."

"No, no, this is your party, I-" The Commander muttered, his usual thick outer shell driven away by the sight of the unconscious Holly, who snored loudly, interrupting his sentence. He sighed melodramatically. Even in her unconscious state, the Captain was still interrupting him.

"It's fine Commander, really." Trouble said, shifting Holly, who was slung over his broad shoulder sloppily.

The Commander sighed again, eyeing Trouble suspiciously, and hissed:

"Alright. Fine, I'll cover for you."

It was only then, when Trouble nodded at the wry Commander, that he noticed one of Holly's shoes was missing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ergh. I hate that short Chapter. Short. Heh. Punish. . . . oh well, R/R anyway.

~Hanna*

(SOMEONE GO REVIEW MY TRAGEDY!! PEAZ!!! * begs on bended knee*)