A/N: Requested by the amazing lunabelle as a dialogue prompt: "I'm going to keep you safe."

Inspired by 4x02, Ron and Tammys, and April's inability to drink vile moonshine.

See, what makes Andy the world's best husband is when he produces a bottle of Lagavulin at home, the drink hidden somewhere in his shirt.

"Where did you get that?" April isn't sure she's ever seen anyone but Ron drink that stuff.

"I thought we should do something… special, for our anniversary, which is next week," Andy continues, staring at the scotch in his hands. "And I asked Ron if he would be so kind as to gift us with a gift."

Their house is thankfully Ben-free, a decision that continues to haunt April, as they make way to the kitchen with the two wine glasses that he had asked them to buy. Which was, first of all, really dumb because nobody drinks wine from a glass – pop it open, now it's your bottle, drink straight from it – and secondly, very annoying. Just the thought gets on her nerves.

"Andy," April interrupts her own thoughts to stave off the irritation. "Did you steal that from Ron?"

"What? No? Me, steal?"

"Andy!"

"Fine I didn't steal it," he acquiesces with a slump of his shoulders. "I tried to buy it from him."

"Why would you do something as lame as that," she says. The wine glasses are hidden away in the stupid dishwasher so she has to fish those out too.

"Because when you drank that gross booze for Ron's mules, I thought to myself–" Andy taps his chin with the bottle's cap, "Andy, what if your wife is out with friends–"

"Ew."

"And she gets into a drinking contest with a hot guy, and he, like, bets that if he wins then they'll hang out and do stuff or–" Andy sets down the bottle with a loud thump, "What if she gets taken prisoner by a gang of pirates who need her to lead them into battle and the first thing they do every time is get super drunk."

"Andy, what are you talking about," April says with a laugh because this, this just might be the single weirdest thing he's ever said. "I'm not gonna go hang out with weird guys. Besides, why would I ever make a bet like that?"

Her tone is a bit sharper than before. The suggestion that she might do that is more than a little insulting – what got in his head?

"I dunno, besides you never know when a pirate could kidnap you," Andy mumbles like he's been caught stealing something. "So I told Ron that I was worried about how you reacted to that stuff and asked him to help me."

April could only shake her head, trying to collect her thoughts. "You asked Ron to–"

"Babe, I promised that I was gonna protect you from everything," Andy interrupts with a genuine worry etched into his eyes.

Her chest feels light all of a sudden and her lips fight to form a smile on her face.

"So, I have to make sure you can handle your liquor," and with that he opens the bottle with a twist and pours far too much into both wine glasses. "Because I am going to make sure you can beat Ron's mom and his weird aunt in a drinking game."

"That was his ex–"

"Because I am going to keep you safe," Andy thrusts one glass into her hand. Some spills onto his hand and the floor. "I'm gonna keep you safe even if it means I have to get my stomach pumped tonight."

"Oh my God, stop," April whines and can feel heat in her cheeks.

So the night continues, the TV getting louder and louder with every taste of the horrid whisky that Ron gave Andy before they can almost feel the wardrobe-turned-stand shake. April downs one glass before Andy can even get halfway through, which prompts what will always be remembered as the greatest challenge of their married lives.

They sit down across from one another, the coffee table in the living room between them, with a shot glass for each and the Lagavulin centered between them. Andy pours the the shots with a shaky hand and stares her down. Since they agreed to the challenge, they turned the television off and April had set up her iPod to blast a playlist specifically curated with hospital visits in mind. It was mostly the same as her others, just with more Judy Garland and didgeridoo solos.

"Ludgate, I swear on my wife's soul that you will lose," Andy growls.

"Babe, I am your wife," she slurs quietly.

"Exactly," he says and starts counting down from three before they down their shots in unison.

That one hits April in chest, hard, like the others were warning fire. But even if she has that burning in her chest, Andy looks like he might throw up any time.

"Did you… are you gonna pour or am I gonna, g-gonna have to–" Andy hiccups like he fell out of a cartoon and it draws some of the loudest laughter in April's life out of her. "No laughing, just drinking!"

So April pours another, and the glass alone weighs a thousand pounds in her hand. They stare each other down, the music dominating the room. Andy's eyes focus on nothing at all before he throws the shot back and downs it all, groaning after. Shooting his tongue out, he exhales like it's poison.

She intends to drink this, but notices the bottle between them is draining quickly and her head explodes in agony. Ignoring it, April takes her time with this shot.

It burns on the way down and leaves her mouth feeling like someone stuffed cotton into her cheeks.

"How–" April burps. "Why aren't you drunk?"

Andy laughs and shakes his head. He sways, sitting, but April can't tell if that's her head spinning and eyes blurring or what.

"I'm like way bigger than you dude, but I'm also super drunk. I'm drunk, you're drunk," Andy laughs again and it's more like a cackle. "Everyone's drink… drunking, drunk. We should get drunk more often, babe."

"You're so hot when you're wasted," she notes with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Standing up, which takes what might as well be an hour, she walks over to him and slinks into his lap. "I'm gonna make out with you so hard."

"Not if I do it first."

Sloppy, sure but almost aimless kisses are the best kind, especially when April can barely feel her legs save for how they curl into his body so nice. And then his arms are around her and April's breathing almost hurts when they break apart, trying to find a different bit of skin to investigate with their mouths. She could live with this feeling, all floating from the booze and soaring from how focused he gets when they start kissing, until Andy pulls her in even closer until they're almost clinging together.

After a few minutes, Andy eventual falls onto his back and sort-of ruins that amazing position from before until he pulls her on top. When he does, April bumps her forehead into his and Andy complains, laughing.

"Dude, your head is way too hard."

"Well you are… way too," April sits up on his stomach and sways, feeling her portion of shots finding its way back up. "Oh God."

She runs into the bathroom, all the heat gone from the moment before. Andy shouts after her, eventually following her.

And he lives up to his promise – protect her from anything – when he sits behind her, rubbing her back and keeping her hair out of her face. When she's all vomited out, Andy takes his turn after she's resigned herself to lie on the bathroom floor and sleep there for the night.

It's enough to make her cry.