2048 wasn't a big fan of traveling through the vital organs, but he quite liked visiting the hepatocytes. Maybe it was their inherent beauty that all of them seemed to possess—they were very easy on the eyes. Or maybe it was their charming conversations, if he wanted to think harder on it. But what really made them the ideal partners for companionship was that they were near unfazed by the sight of unruly cells—as the liver was the site for the majority of the erythrocyte population whenever the body was intoxicated by toxins.

They didn't bat an eye when faced with the presence of unusual cells.

Like him.

As a neutrophil, he was a cell that didn't need to spend so much time in the liver other than an occasional sweep of the area for any bacterial threats. However, he couldn't help but enjoy the atmosphere of the liver—everything was so relaxed and welcoming. He could take a break from the fighting and the blood that usually came with the job as an immune cell without much worry.

And well…

While he appreciated the sight of other cells like the erythrocytes and his fellow neutrophils, they just weren't worth the view. Besides, he should have a chance at treating himself every so often, right?

So, it was no wonder, after a trying patrol near the head and the pharynx, he decided to make a trip towards the liver. He had thought about inviting his friends, but he quickly discarded that idea.

For one, 2626 and 4989 weren't exactly the most mature of the lot.

For two, 1146 and 2001 were too mature to go along with his idea.

He simply wasn't going to ask random immune cells to go with him and he certainly didn't have the social clout to ask random red blood cells to accompany him.

Going by himself wasn't the most ideal option, but his main mission was to unwind and possibly have some fun—chat up the hepatocytes and hope that there wasn't any bacteria to deal with.

Coincidentally, at this time, many of the red blood cells were looking too sluggish and sleepy. Upon further inspection, most were heading to the liver as well. It took a few seconds to recall why the red blood cells would appear like this before he remembered a lesson from his days at the bone marrow. The body must have been consuming copious amounts of alcohol—not enough to warrant a system shutdown or excess sluggishness, but enough for members of the red blood cell population to take the effects the hardest.

The thought of entering the liver with so many other cells didn't seem too pleasing, but he forged ahead. He made it this far, might as well see it to the end.

Once he entered the liver, he was greeted with a blond hostess. Her hair was swept in an elegant updo—the regality of which only accented her slimming figure. Whereas the macrophages opted for a more sturdy uniform, the hepatocytes dressed to impress.

2048, even if this wasn't his first time, still felt a hint of a blush caress his cheeks as he was escorted by the lovely cell. There were many perks to being a neutrophil, but since most of them were male, one of the downfalls was that talking to beautiful women weren't one of their strong suits.

Once he was settled in a strategic place at the hostess club, he found himself merely observing the premises. As expected, there was an inordinate amount of red blood cells taking refuge from the recent intake of alcohol. Some of them, seasoned veterans, took to the alcohol with a slight flush in their cheeks and a jaunty skip in their step.

Others...not so much.

Some of the rookies had to hold onto their mentors for balance while others stuttered their way through a haze of incoherent babbling. Once seated, they were treated to several drinks and polite conversation from the hepatocytes. Unfortunately for 2048, the hepatocytes had to prioritize the intoxicated erythrocytes: company policy. He didn't mind; he had hoped for some company, but his timing was off this time around.

So, he took a seat at one of the barstools, away from the majority of the cells. Although he stuck out, him being unnaturally white and pale against the deep red of the erythrocytes, not many paid him any mind. Those that did, however, merely looked at him in wary apprehension before turning away to their enzymes.

As time passed, he watched some erythrocytes finally become detoxicated and leave the premises. However, it seemed that the body was either continuously drinking alcohol, or the erythrocytes decided to take a day off. Either way, the club wasn't empty for long.

Somewhere down the line, the neutrophil spotted one young red blood cell make her way through the doors. Her face was flushed dark just like her hair, but those features went unnoticed when he saw that she swayed like a young myelocyte trying out his weapons for the first time. (No, he's not drawing from his personal experiences, thank you very much). Once a hepatocyte spots her, the red headed erythrocyte begins babbling about the wonders of alcoholism. Bemused, the liver cell asks politely if the red blood cell came with a party or if she wants to ride out the intoxication herself.

Bored with that particular interaction, 2048 allows himself to idle in his thoughts. Perhaps he should get going back to his favorite marginating pool? Or perhaps he should do some recon at the elbow? Word was going around that there was a slight abrasion situation, but there were already white blood cells stationed there…

Before 2048 could contemplate his situation further, there was a sound of a muffled thud.

Next to him.

He glanced at his periphery only to be assaulted by the deep color of red. Contrary to his earlier assessment, there were actually three different hues of red, the darkest of which colored her cheeks. Come to think of it, the red blood cell looked very familiar…

"You're 1146's," she paused for a second as she hiccuped, "friend, yeah? Whatcha doin'?"

Surreptitiously, his dark eyes glanced at her. No drink. One of the hepatocytes must have neglected to give her an enzyme to break down the alcohol. Better have that rectified immediately.

Without even sparing her a second glance, 2048 turns in his barstool.

"Excuse me," he calls out to a passing hepatocyte waitress, "can you get—"

"Are you ignoring me!"

"—her some enzymes? OH SHI—"

2048's mind stuttered to a halt and did a little breakdance when the erythrocyte thrust herself onto him and began profusely sobbing into his chest. Meanwhile, the hepatocyte gave him a little smirk before hustling off to a cordoned area where the enzymes were presumably stored. Silently cursing the hepatocyte for leaving him alone with this hysterical red blood cell, he almost missed the mutters under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Hey...whatsyer name 'gain? I'm kinda...kinda," she blinked dazedly at him, cheeks still flushed. "Kinda tired and my...and my mentor ain't here."

"U-2048," he replied quietly. Good grief, what he was supposed to do this in situation? There was nothing in his years of training that detailed how to treat red blood cells who were inebriated. Come to think of it, weren't red blood cells already emotional? Didn't the effects of alcohol exacerbate that?

He patted her shoulder in what could have passed for a hesitant point of contact, but it was enough to push the young cell to her limits. The floodgates in her eyes immediately ruptured, which prompted a new deluge of tears and wracking sobs.

Was this...was this normal?

Out of morbid curiosity and habit, the white blood cell examined his surroundings and found himself staring into the countless pairs of eyes who were staring at him. Unlike earlier, the red blood cells looked upon him with a looks of fear and disgust. Some red blood cells pointed at him—distrust in their eyes. Others whispered amongst themselves. If 2048's ears weren't bombarded with the sounds of the distressed erythrocyte, he would have heard that they were accusing him of taking advantage of the red blood cell. Since he couldn't, all he could do was hazard a guess that they were slandering the both of them in that weird way most cells were wont to do when faced with the unknown—in this case, his presence at the liver.

Which was fair, in a way. White blood cells weren't known to traverse the liver's fine establishments with nothing more than relaxation on his mind.

Again, the thought that his timing was bad crossed his mind.

Well, he could either take the insults or he could do something that could partially heal the reputation he was making for himself—and potentially, for the rest of his immune cell brethren.

"Hey, Miss—" He glanced at her cap. Maybe, if he were to make this personal he could reach her and make her stop crying. Wasn't that what macrophages did? Establish a friendly connection and manipulate the relationship to their benefit? Or was that more of a feature of the dendritic cells? Regardless, he couldn't dig his grave any deeper, might as well go down in flames. "—AE-3803, why don't you calm down! I bet it's your first time here in the liver, right?"

Please, for the love and for the good of the body, make it so that his intuition was correct!

For some odd reason, the body listened.

AE-3803 collapsed in his arms and quieted, only the smallest of sniffles and whimpers escaped her. Much to his surprise, her hold on him tightened, but the whispers and the stares from the rest of the patrons in the establishment hadn't abated. In fact—

"Ugh, look at that stupid white blood cell."

"He's not even trying to calm her down."

"Is he hurting her?"

Whatever. As if he would let those cells' emotions and comments get to him.

Besides, he should get back to taking care of the red blood cell.

The red blood cell muttered, "'m sorry! 'sjust 'm worried about 1146 and—" She sniffled as he robotically rubbed circles into her back. As 2048 did so, he completely missed out on what she said next. Luckily for him, she continued to mutter under her breath until it wasn't under her breath so much as she was shouting into his ear! "1146's workin' too hard! It's 'cause of Cancer and—"

Wait, what!

Quickly, he placed a gloved hand over her mouth, trying to shuch her from alerting the other patrons that there might be something amiss. Unfortunately, seeing that they were in an even more pressing situation, it only fanned the flames of the red blood cells' ire. Hopefully, nothing would come of it.

"Okay, Miss 3803, 1146 is doing just fine! I just saw him on one of my patrols several hours ago!" He muttered quickly in a sort of reassuring manner. "He looked—"

How do you exactly describe bloodthirsty and terrifying in a flattering manner?

"—er, competent as usual?"

She abruptly stopped crying and grasped his collar, pulling him closer to her. If it wasn't for the brightness in her eyes and her genuine emotions of happiness, he would have thought her pretending. Surely she would have noticed that by now, their proximity, while close before, was now crossing into the unsettling grey territory of friendly bordering on scandalous.

If this was a hepatocyte, he wouldn't have minded as much, but this was 1146's friend...and she was still intoxicated!

"He's okay! He's not beating himself up from the traumatizing encounter he had with the bad guy?"

Did she...just regain her ability to speak without slurring? Was the alcohol wearing off?

"Er, yes."

She smiled.

"Let's celebrate, Mr. 2048!"

That was unexpected. Not unpleasant. Just. Were mood swings a normal occurence when under the influence?

"Sure."

And she was upon him again. This time, she hooked her hands against his hat, which pulled against the receptor which was connected to the back of his—

"Hey! Don't damage—" His vision was briefly obscured by the inside of her hat. "—neutrophil equipment!" He fingered her hat which was lay on top of his head. "Why did you give me your hat?"

She didn't answer. It wasn't like she needed to in the first place. Instead of her red cap that all red blood cells were supposed to wear, she had decided to don on his white cap. Normally, he would have been irritated—4989 had decided to prank him that one time when they had just graduated and well, 2048 wasn't pleased—but he took one look at her pleased expression and found himself inwardly cooing at her.

Coincidentally, the whispers and the rumors died down as well.

2048 counted that as a win.

Until there was a massive weight that settled against his chest—and it was nuzzling him.

"Erm, what exactly are you doing?"

Instead of answering, the red blood cell yawned and settled against him, a contented look on her face as she drifted off to sleep.

This was...not exactly ideal, but it wasn't too bad either. At least the corner where he was currently sitting at was no longer being scrutinized by others. And she was warm. And cute. And it would be really rude to awake her.

"I'm sorry for the delay, but here's your enzyme you ordered!"

2048 raised an eyebrow at the proffered drink.

Was it just him, or did the hepatocyte delay on purpose?


"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to snap at you or sleep on—"

2048 waved away her concerns as he led her out of the liver.

"It's all right, Miss 3803," he smirked at her growing discomfort at his dismissal of her concerns. "We should hang out some more, you seem pretty nice to hang around with. I can understand why 1146 likes you so much!"

"H-h-hang out? More?" AE-3803's bulged out even further as his later words were processed. "He-he what?"

2048 chuckled before gently pushing the stuttering red blood cell n the direction of the lungs so that she could finish her deliveries.

"Yeah, we should hang out some more." He bent at the waist, grabbed her hand and lightly kissed the back of her gloved knuckles. "Get to know each better, what do you say?"

"Aaaaahhhhhhh—"

"Excellent. Gotta go! See ya, Miss 3803!"