A/N, this chapters inspiration is entirely blamed on watching Animal House while writing it.

She came back after a good hour of being away, bags in hand, emblazoned with the local supermarket's logo. "Need a hand?' He asked, and she nodded.

'There's a few more bags in the car as well as a few drinks." He grabbed an armful of bags and one of the twelve packs she had bought.

"A few? Jordan, who needs-" He counted the cases, "-five twelve packs for two people?" He put the bags down in the kitchen.

"C'mon, I'll have you drinking Guinness in no time. Although I had to spend twenty minutes trying to find a liquor store. What kind of a state doesn't allow the sale of liquor in a grocery store?" He smirked as he carried in the last two twelve packs. They put three in the fridge along with some of the food, just enough to cover the rest of the week they were staying there.

He opened one of the cases of beer and pulled out a can before heading back to the couch where he had been quite comfortable before she returned. She slapped his feet off of the cocktail table to give her some room to get by, and once she was past, he resumed his the lounging posistion he had been in. "The Mets? I thought the Sox were playing today." She said looking at the score of the game on TV.

"They are, but they're not on TV down here." He remarked, handing her the remote. She absently flipped through all the channels, before returning to the game.

"There is nothing on TV. I hate daytime TV." He smiled and took a gulp from his beer. "What happened to only drinking things that a bottle of will put you on your ass?" She teased.

"When there is nothing else to drink, one makes do with what he has. I still prefer something that if I wanted to get drunk I wouldn't have to buy an entire twelve pack of."

"So it takes you a whole twelve pack to get drunk? Or a twelve pack to get REALLY drunk?"

"Define really drunk." She thought.

"Hold onto the floor so you don't fall off the world drunk."

"Sounds about right for a twelve pack." She laughed.

"Funny, I can't picture you that drunk. I've seen you tipsy, I've seen you half drunk, but I've never seen you down on the ground head on cold porcelain drunk."

"There's a reason for that." He told her, taking another sip.

"Really. What was it you said in the bar? Too many bad parties. Do tell." He shook his head.

"What can I say, I was a music major, and music majors are known for the best parties, if there's one thing a bunch of wanna be rock stars are good at, it's partying." He smiled.

"Wow, learn something new every day. Can't picture you involved in chugging contests." He shook his head as he remembered-however faded and fuzzy those memories may have been, his college days.

"I wasn't bad."

"Is that a challenge?" She questioned.

"No, it's not. I haven't done something like that since college."

"Neither have I." She countered. "Kinda miss it. Nothing better than a bunch of drunken idiots competing to see who can get more drunk. I was one of the best on campus, could out chug most of the guys." He shook his head, he did not want to be doing this.

"I'm not going to be involved in a chugging contest with you." He told her point blank and she pouted.

"What, afraid you're going to loose?"

"No."

"Then why not? It's not like anyone's going to see you, no one's here to leak the story of you in a chug fest to give you any more bad press, and I'm probably not going to remember enough to sell the story."

"What's in it for me, what's the wager?" He asked her, eying the label on the beer introspectively.

"Winner picks what the looser does." He thought. "You know you want to." she teased him, walking into the kitchen to retrieve one of the non-refrigerated twelve packs. She gave him six, and placed six before her. "First one done or whoever drinks the most wins." He thought about it for a long minute before extending his hand.

"I know I'm going to regret this in the morning, but you're on." She shook it, and cracked her first can, and he did the same.

"On your marks. Get set." She paused, and they both said "Go" at the same time.

He fought the liquid, trying to get his throat and mouth to do things they hadn't done in two decades, trying to get them to hold the most liquid possible and trying to get his gag reflex to disappear, allowing the liquid to go directly from his mouth to his stomach.

He allowed himself a glance sideways as he cracked the third can to see where she was, and found her to be in the exact same place. By that time his body had remembered what it was like, remembered how to get the most out of every gulp and he could tell that her body was reacting the exact same way. He groaned as he slammed the last can down on the table at the same time she did, and let out a long belch, laughing as she did the same. She glared.

"Screw being lady like, I just chugged six cans of beer." Her voice was slightly slurred.

"In the middle of the day, on an empty stomach." She looked at the clock on the DVD player, her eyes squinting to try to read the numbers that seemed to be fading in and out of view.

"It's after 2, it's past midday." She told him, leaning back against the couch.

"I think we tied."

"Ok, so we each pick what the other one does. You go first."

"Ladies first." He told her, attempting to think of something to tell her to do.

"No, all I can think of is stupid stuff that only frat boys would do, like getting a tattoo." He shook his head.

"No thanks, don't need another." An interested look crossed her face.

"Another? That means you've already got one. I didn't see it though, where is this mystery tattoo." He shrugged.

"A place no one looks." He told her simply.

"Where, your ass?" She laughed at her own humor.

"A little higher up."

"Show it." He shrugged and pulled down a corner of his pants and boxers to reveal a small tattoo just above his hip, and she burst out laughing again.

"What, you have something against it?"

"No, I just think it's kinda-cute-that you have the batman thing tattooed on you." He shook his head, but her words meant something to him, had she just called him cute? What was that phrase again? In Vino Veritas? Very true statement about the truth. "Your turn." She told him, and he thought about what to tell her to do.

"Why?"

"Why what?" She asked back, trying to figure out what the word meant.

"Why do you keep pulling away whenever we start getting close?" He asked her, and waited for the answer.