"What are you doing?" Skye asked Neal as he dragged her away from Kel.

"Come on," Neal said excitedly.

"Where are we going?" Skye demanded.

"Wedding celebration," Neal explained shortly.

"But, Neal," Skye protested, falsely concerned. "Isn't it a bit soon to be discussing marriage?"

Neal rolled his eyes but didn't slow his speed. "I've always been impatient," he told Skye dryly. "Anyway, Fanche and Saefas got married and they're having a wedding celebration after the service. I only just heard, and I thought you and I deserved some fun. We've been working hard."

"We?" Skye scoffed. "I've been working hard. I don't know where you've kept yourself all day."

Neal drew himself up, the very image of the falsely accused, and informed her, "I was with Kel. We had a--"

"Very important meeting. I should have known."

"Yes, yes, my dear girl. Now, here we are."

They approached a torch-lit area between two of the barracks that housed the refugees. The celebrations were already underway, and refugee men and women stood around drinking, laughing, and dancing.

Skye grinned. She could tell this was going to be an enjoyable night. Turning to Neal, she congratulated him, "Brilliant idea, for once. Care for a drink?"

"I'll get our drinks," Neal offered. He disappeared into a knot of people gathered around the ale barrels.

Skye was watching the slightly inebriated bride and groom happily talking with their friends when she felt a touch at her back.

"Did you get the--?" She stopped when she saw the young man she was addressing was not Neal. "Oh, hello," Skye told the tall stranger.

"Hello there," the man said amiably. "I just wanted to thank you for healing me when I cracked my head."

"Oh, yes, I remember you," Skye said. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," he replied. "By the way, I'm Braden."

"Skye."

"I know. When I heard there was a healer as pretty as you are, I made it my business to know your name."

Skye smiled, lowering long eyelashes. "Thank you."

Braden smiled back. "Would you like to dance with me?"

"Yes, of course," Skye answered.

Braden took her hand and led her over to the small area where couples were dancing. Briefly, a unbidden thought flitted across Skye's mind. I'd rather be dancing with Neal. She shook her head, trying to banish the idea. Neal hadn't given any reason to think he was interested in her. He was probably still hurting from his broken engagement, and she didn't want to press him. It was best she just think about dancing with Braden for the moment.

Unseen by both of them, Neal stood just outside the ring fire-light, watching. He wondered why it bothered him so much that Skye would dance with another man. It wasn't as if he was romantically involved with Skye in any way. Was he jealous of the other man? Why was he upset that she was not dancing with him, but with someone else? He wasn't even certain if he even wanted a romance only a few months after what had happened with Yuki. The pain was still fresh in his heart.

Finally Neal came to his own conclusion. He had feelings for Skye, and he didn't want her to be with anyone else but him.

Mind made up, Neal approached the dancing couple and tapped Skye's shoulder. "May I intrude?" he inquired.

Skye turned to face Neal, slightly surprised. She hadn't even heard him walk up. She looked on as Braden met Neal's eyes, and saw something pass between the two of them. Then Braden gave a polite, if somewhat disappointed, smile and took a step back. "Go ahead," he told Neal. "I need another drink anyway."

Neal turned to Skye and took one of her hands in his. His other hand encircled her waist, while hers rested on his shoulder. Skye felt a shiver of pleasure at the presence of Neal's hand on her back, then scolded herself mentally. What are you thinking? You just decided he wasn't interested in you romantically. Or was he? He had interrupted her other companion in order to dance with her. And he had been the one to bring her here tonight. She shook her head; this was getting too confusing. Little did she know, Neal was having a similar reaction to her touch.

The dance ended, and Skye had to supress a sigh of disappointment. She needed to do something to get her mind off romance. Suddenly, inspiration came to her mind. She grinned, pleased with her own roguish idea, and turned to Neal.

"I have an idea," she told him.

"Oh no," he replied. "I hereby regard it as my duty to put a stop to whatever mayhem you are plotting."

Skye mock-glared at him. "Fine. It's not as if I need your help anyways," she teased. "I'll be right back."

"Wait. Where are you going?" Neal asked suspiciously.

"Latrine. Am I allowed?" She batted her eyelashes innocently.

"Yes. Please don't let me keep you."

Skye swatted at Neal's head before walking off on the direction of the latrines. However, once she was out of Neal's sight, she turned towards the man who was serving the alcoholic drinks.

"Ale or mead?" he asked her.

Skye smiled flirtatiously, hoping to convince him quickly, "Actually, I was looking for something a bit stronger. Do you have whiskey? My friends and I are having a sort of drinking…competition."

The man smiled back at her. "Why not? After all, a celebration is the right time for such indulgences," he replied, holding out a small jug.

Skye took the jug with murmured thanks, and instead of returning to Neal, walked towards the table holding non-alcoholic beverages. Aquick glance around told her all the the children and elderly refugees had already retired to their beds, and the remaining party-goers were mostly in their twenties or thirties. So she was safe.

Making sure no one was near the table, Skye discreetly emptied the jug of whiskey into a large barrel of punch. She had done this many times with University friends, and still enjoyed watching people's reactions as they realised there was more spirit to their punch than they had originally thought. The trick was not getting caught.

On an afterthought, Skye filled two mugs, one for herself with the regular punch, and one for Neal with her special mixture. Since he had refused to go along with her plan, she might as well find out what a drunk Neal was like.

Returning to where she had left her green-eyed friend, Skye found him conversing with Kel.

"There are more funds being sent to the war-effort," Kel was saying. "I've received the news that the refugees will be given help and money to find new homes soon."

"And what is planned for New Hope once she's been emptied out?" Neal inquired.

"Several Rider groups and a couple squads of the King's Own will be sent over," Kel told him. "New Hope will become more of a regular fort than refugee housing."Kel and Neal noticed Skye at the same moment, and Neal gestured for her to sit next to him on the log he and Kel were sharing.

"Since you seemed to have forgotten about our drinks," Skye explained, handing Neal his mug and sitting down, "I took the responsibility." She turned to Kel. "My apologies, Kel. I didn't know you were here, or I would have brought you a drink as well."

"Oh, it's alright," Kel said, smiling. "I'm leaving now anyway; I need to check on a few things before I go to bed. Tomorrow the first of the Own and Rider squads arrive to help the refugees begin to load up and move out."

"Is there a particular sergeant coming with those troops tomorrow?" Neal asked, grinning.

Kel smiled back at him. "Why yes, Dom's squad is one of those assigned to New Hope and will be here tomorrow," she told him. "And I'm sure he'll be pleased to see his cousin Meathead."

"My cousin Domitan is a squad leader in the King's Own," Neal explained to Skye, who nodded in reply. She had been wondering who they were talking about.

"Well, I'm off," Kel stood and bid Neal and Skye goodnight, then left the two of them sitting on the log alone.

Neal and Skye were debating the use of vervain in healing magic when Braden reappeared, and slumped onto the log next to Skye. A little too close, by her standards. Then he draped an arm around her shoulders and drawled drunkenly into her ear, "What's say you ditch this pampered friend of yours and you 'n me can find a nice private place to spend some quality time."

"No," Skye said tersely. "I'm fine just where I am, and I don't fancy spending 'quality time' with men I've just met."

Braden scowled. "Now look here, missy--"

"I'll ask you to leave my friend alone," Neal interrupted, standing. "And I can see you're not yourself, otherwise I might ask more of you. As it is, remember that when a woman tells you you're not wanted, you leave."

Skye cocked an eyebrow. Neal was being rather defensive of her. Not that she minded; she was glad someone was getting rid of Braden, it just wasn't usual for her to have men defending her.

Braden glared, but, overcome by Neal's rank and ferocious stare, slunk away.

Skye sighed gratefully. "Thank you," she told Neal.

"No trouble at all. And I need some more punch. Can I get you some as well?"

"Yes, please," Skye replied, her earlier mischief with the whiskey completely forgotton after the escapade with Braden.

Numerous cups of punch later, realisation hit the more-than-slightly inebriated Skye. Trying not to fall off her seat on the log that seemed to be rocking like a ship, she grinned while watching Neal flirt shamelessly with every female that came near him.

"You're drunk," she informed him after his most recent companion, a woman who looked to be about fifty who Neal had been trying to convince that age did not hinder true love, deserted him.

He stared at her blankly for a minute before joining in on her boisterous, drunken laughter. "You well so are," he said, looked confused, and tried speaking again. "Well so are you. And…I don't know why. All we had was punch."

Skye laughed even louder. "But see, I've only just remembered, I put whiskey in the punch." She dissolved into hysterical fits of giggles.

Neal grinned, watching her, and grabbed her just in time to keep her from falling off the log.

Skye managed to get ahold of herself, only to lean against Neal and attempt to whisper, although not very quietly, in his ear, "Neal, I think I'm drunk! Shhh! Someone must have put whiskey in the punch!"

Neal stared at her. "You did! You just told me!"

"I did?!" she asked dubiously, then gasped. "Ohh, yes!"

Neal sighed, then stood shakily. As soon as he had his balance, he pulled Skye up with him, and held her tightly against his chest. The small, sane part of Neal knew he shouldn't be acting this way with Skye, but his drunken self ignored his rational self. It felt so good to have her snuggled against his chest, and he didn't want to let go.

Neal held Skye close the entire time he was walking her back to her room. Once at her door, he did something he knew he would never have dared to do were he sober.

He kissed her.

He pulled her close to himself, and pressed his lips to hers, and she didn't pull away. Their kiss deepened, became more passionate, until they were hugging each other tightly, mouths locked, kissing swiftly and urgently.

Neal loved the feeling of his hands pressing her back, of her hands caressing his shoulders and the back of his neck. He loved the feeling of her body so close to his, loved their breaths mingling, loved the sweet taste of her. He hoped the moment would never end.

But it did.

Skye drew back from him quite suddenly, gasping for breath, her body trembling.

She spoke. "I…I…goodnight, Neal." She slipped into her room and shut the door behind her, firmly.

Neal stared at the closed door for a few minutes, getting his breath back, getting his body under control. Then he walked slowly back to his room, tumbled into his bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

A/N

Whew. This chapter gave me some trouble in writing it, but I'm quite pleased with the way it turned out. Now, I know you may argue that it's not in Neal's character to get drunk, but it wasn't a conscious decision he made. As to his being extremely flirtatious when drunk, well, he was always pining after women but never pursuing them. Since alcohol tends to make a person lose his inhibitions, I reasoned that a drunk Neal would pursue every woman he got that chance to. Skye, however, is a different matter. Neal is finally realising his feelings for her, and being inebriated allows him to act on those feelings without thinking about the consequences.

Now, I know I promised Dom would be in this chappie, but I had to figure out a way to get him to New Hope. Now that I know what I'm doing, I swear on the beautiful face of Johnny Depp that Dom will be in the next chapter. I swear.

Hope you enjoyed, and as always, please, please, please review. (begs shamelessly)