One drink went by, then two, then three. Newt and Clara were buzzed out of their right minds. It was a weird feeling for Clara, she felt tingly and warm, and she couldn't stop giggling. Newt just sat against a log and watched Clara's lips move to the point where he stopped listening to what she was saying. It was a mess of words anyway.

When it was time to head back to the hammocks, Clara and Newt snickered and stumbled their way to her bed, only to find Thomas already sleeping in it.

"What gives?" Clara asked. Newt's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of a new sign with the Greenie's name on it hanging over the hammock. He grabbed Clara's hand and went to find Alby, which was hard to do because he couldn't keep his balance.

"Where's Clara's hammock?" Newt asked when they found him.

"We had no more hammocks and the Greenie needed a place to sleep, so I thought Clara could sleep on the floor for tonight." Alby explained, receiving a look of disdain from Newt.

"That's not happening. I think I know where to put her."

"Go right ahead, shank." Alby said, walking into the Homestead. As soon as he heard Alby's door shut, Newt's lips curved into a mischievous smile. Using what little level-headedness he had, Newt broke into a run up the creaky stairs, dragging Clara along. They reached a door near the end of the hallway and Newt opened it, pulling her into it. It was a small bedroom, with a bed, dresser, and a couple chairs. The bed was neatly made and there were a few clothes thrown out on the floor. Newt plopped onto the bed, laying on his back, and Clara followed suit.

The two laid there for a while, laughing to themselves. Newt rolled over to face Clara, propping his head with his elbow.

"You have pretty eyes." He said, his words slurred.

"You have a pretty face." Clara replied, giggling. Newt scooted closer, to where his face was hovering over hers.

"I thought you were pretty when I saw you in the Box." Newt said, this time more serious despite his current state.

"Oh really? I thought you were pretty when... when you... since forever." She laughed again.

"Can I kiss you?" Clara sucked in a sharp breath.

"What?" She whispered, her mind still fuzzy.

"Can I kiss you..." Newt repeated, his brown eyes sparkling with intensity. He leaned closer, their faces inches away. Clara reached her hand up and gently touched his flushed face, rubbing her thumb across his cheek.

"Well? I'm waiting." She said. Newt gave a small smile and leaned closer, his lips barely brushing hers. Clara's breath hitched as she felt his warm hand carefully side up her shirt, resting on her waist. He finally closed the gap between him, his lips hungrily pressing onto hers. Clara felt like there were fireworks being set off in her stomach. She deepened the kiss and set her hand on the back of Newt's neck, reaching for his blond hair. He let a low sound escape his throat and moved his lips to her jawline.

From that point on, Clara's head was so foggy with disbelief and drunkenness that she sank into a blissful trance, letting her body take over for her mind.