An exhausted Lucas yawned as he turned over, feeling out for the familiar and warm body that was supposed to be next to him. Instead there was just a cold and empty space. He looked over at the bedside clock and saw that it was almost two a.m. Brooke was still out. Shrugging it off, he laid his head back down and was two blinks away from sudden slumber when he heard it. It was quite the commotion, banging against the wall. Waiting a few minutes to see if it would stop proved futile, as whatever was going on was still in full effect.

They were staying at the Hotel Monaco, one of the best hotels in Denver. Half of the Boston Celtics had opted to move on to their next destination in northern California, while other members had stayed the night in Colorado. Nathan Scott was one of the ones who had stayed behind with intentions to catch the first morning flight out. He was traveling with his father, brother, sister in law and private nurse and they had reserved the entire top floor for themselves. It was late and supposed to be quiet, now there was ruckus outside their rooms. Concluding it was probably fans that had figured out where the NBA's most infamous player was staying, Lucas put on a robe and decided to go investigate.

"What the…"

He rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he was still sleeping. Because nothing could have prepared him for what he saw…

Haley jumped as smoke oozed from a machine to create a pink and purple fog throughout the crowd. The music was so loud she could feel the bass inside her chest as a chill filtered inside the club. People were dancing and drinking and having a good time all around her but she felt like she was a million miles away even though she was only standing on the balcony above.

"Here," Brooke offered as she sauntered up looking like a million bucks in form fitting black slacks, a white spaghetti strapped top and Steve Madden heels. "This is for you, Miss."

Haley looked down at the tray and two glasses Brooke had just placed in front of them at their table in the VIP lounge.

"Uh, what is that?" Haley frowned.

"You're a Southern Belle, you know how we do it. Haley Webb, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Rhett Butler and Miss Scarlet O'Hara."

"Come again."

"The Rhett Butler has Southern Comfort, lime juice, lemon juice, sugar and Curacao. The Scarlett O'Hara is Southern Comfort mixed with cranberry juice and lime juice. Now pick your poison."

Haley made a face.

"No thanks."

"No thanks?"

"I'm not much of a drinker. It's cool."

Brooke pouted as she flipped her meticulously curled brunette locks.

"No one is asking you to become a lush. But it's Friday night, we're in Denver, we're having a great time, our team just totally kicked ass and bright and early in the morning you're on a plane to Sacramento…"

"My sentiments exactly. I have an early flight tomorrow and right after that, it's back to work. I can't do my job all hung over."

"You won't be. We're not gonna get knock down, drag out, tuck your dress into your panties drunk. We're just gonna kick back, relax and have a little fun. After all, we deserve it. Right?"

"Maybe so but um, I, I'm not the best at holding my liquor. Point blank, I'm a serious lightweight."

"And I am your fairy godmother wingman or wingwoman or wing person or whatever the hell it's called. You know what I mean. It's the girls' night out. Now have a drink with me."

"I don't know, Brooke…"

Haley looked around slightly uncomfortable. She wasn't using to being all dolled up in a sexy black dress and heels. Her hair had been curled and she had been made up like some sort of supermodel. It had been at Brooke's persistence so they could bond but all Haley could think about was the wire tapped to her body.

"Come on, Haley. Yeah, I want to let loose and have fun but it's more than that," she began. "Listen, I don't have a lot of girlfriends. I explained the situation with Peyton and basically ever since I married Lucas, my life has been pretty much about him and the Scott's. I don't get to do the cool stuff like shopping or clubbing or getting facials with the girls. I kind of missed that. Then you came along and we clicked and it was nice because I was actually making a new friend but then the Deb thing happened."

"Brooke…"

"You were pretty pissed off about the whole situation and I totally get that. You had, have, every right to be. We weren't honest, we didn't handle it right and well, you know the rest. Obviously you've decided to stay on and work for Nathan and we're all happy about that but the last week or so, it's like you've been really distant with me. I'm not happy about that. I thought we were friends and I don't want to ruin it. So tonight was kind of my chance to make amends. I wanted to make it fun for you, for us."

Haley looked right at her and saw sincerity. It was a sad case, actually. Brooke was a nice person and a good wife who obviously loved her husband. But it was painfully clear that she had given so much of herself, her own life up in order to be a Scott. Maybe that was how it had started for Deb.

"Okay, one drink won't hurt, I suppose," Haley surrendered.

"Goody!" Brooke clapped her hands. "Which one?"

"Southern Comfort? Uh, I don't think it really matters at this point."

"Fine. I'm Scarlett. I absolutely loved her in the movie so you get to be Rhett," Brooke handed her the drink.

"Wonderful," Haley grinned sarcastically.

Brooke ignored her.

"A toast. Okay, what do we toast to?"

"Survival?" Haley offered.

"Friends," Brooke added with a smile.

"Friends."

"And good times."

"Here, here," Haley clinked glasses with her.

She reluctantly took a sip, closing her eyes tight as she braced for the worst. It went down smooth.

"You okay?" Brooke asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine, actually. That, that wasn't too bad. It's kind of good, very sweet."

"It's SoCo, baby," Brooke winked.

Haley gave a shrug and downed the rest of the glass. It tasted good, it didn't make her sick and it didn't make her drunk. In fact, Brooke did have a point, it was kind of relaxing. And Haley James needed relaxing. The weeks before had been stressful to say the least. What she was doing was no different than having a nice glass of wine after a hard day of work.

"That's pretty good. I might have another."

Brooke raised her eyebrows.

"Well, let me catch up with you," she killed her glass, before signaling for a round two to the bartender.

Pretty soon there was another tray and Haley, becoming more relaxed and animated by the second, had finished her second glass in a couple of minutes.

"This stuff is really good, Brooke. It should come in a bottle."

Brooke could only agree as the third round hit the table. By number four, both girls were feeling good.

"Do you hear that?" Brooke asked.

"What?" Haley scrunched her nose, drinking some more.

"That! Come on. That's the great sound of The Pussycat Dolls. God, I absolutely love them! They are seriously my favorites! Let's dance!"

Haley thought for a second.

"Can we get more of Rhett and Scarlett on the dance floor?"

"You bet!"

And just like that, they were off, giggling as they made their way to the center of the floor, grinding and shaking their hips to the beat of the music. It was a great time, two girlfriends letting loose and forgetting their family and work problems. It was fun and dancing and drinking and more drinking. The alcohol was flowing freely and they were having too good of a time to stop. It was just a couple of girls wanting to have fun. What was so wrong with that?

"Broody!"

Lucas grabbed his ears. God, her voice could get high when she was excited…and drunk. Looking down, the latter was quite obvious. Brooke was plastered.

"Baby, what is going on?"

He leaned down to see his wife flat on her back, giggling uncontrollably.

"Do you know how much I love you?" she slurred.

It was no use in reasoning with her in that state. Looking up, he saw Haley leaned against the wall. She would know what to do but he hated dragging her into yet another Scott fiasco.

"Haley, I am so sorry about this. She must have had a little too much. Thank you for bringing her up. I'll take it from here…"

"Okay, I'll just, um, you know, go to my, room…um, that place, you know where I live…stay."

Lucas made a face.

"Haley, you alright?"

She gave him a Cheshire grin before stumbling to turn a cartwheel gone wrong. She landed flat on her butt but that didn't stop her from doing more.

"Baby, I taught Haley cheers!" Brooke proudly proclaimed. "I am a cheerleader. That's why you married me. That's why you called me Cheery."

Lucas closed his eyes. It was going to be a long, late night and he was going to need some reinforcement. He stood and walked a few feet over, knocking on the door of his brother's suite. Less than a minute later, Nathan, in workout shorts with bed head and sleepy eyes, answered the door.

"Dude, what is it?" he grumbled.

Lucas simply stepped out of the way and pointed. There was Brooke sprawled out on the floor having the time of her life cheering on an equally drunken Haley who was cartwheeling her way into wall after wall.

"Do you know how awesome you are right now?" Brooke asked.

"No, Brooke, you're awesome!" Haley loudly declared.

Nathan couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. He hadn't seen Brooke like that in a long time and never in his wildest imagination would he have envisioned his straight lace, by the book, nurse Haley Webb like that.

"Holy shit."

"Just help me," Lucas muttered.

He walked over to his wife and scooped her up in his arms as Nathan went over to Haley. He awkwardly tried to grab her but recoiled in embarrassed horror.

"Haley…"

"Bro, what's wrong?" Lucas asked.

Nathan pointed to Haley. For the first time they were getting a good look at her from behind. And what a view it was. The corner of her dress had been neatly tucked in her underwear.

"Haley, um…your dress, uh…it…you…I, you need to fix yourself," Nathan stammered with a red face.

Haley and Brooke looked at each and burst out laughing, breaking into a rendition of The Pussycat Doll's hit, Don't Cha.

"God, this is worse than I thought," Lucas shook his head. "Man, take her back to her room."

"I'm trying but I can't touch her with her dress all like that," Nathan defended.

"Then just pull it out."

"What?"

"Not like that. You know, just one subtle, swift move. I mean, we can't let her walk around with her ass half hanging out and her dress all bunched up in her underwear."

"They had to get up here somehow and I'm sure somebody got an eyeful. Anyway, I don't want any part of touching some drunk woman's dress. That's how shit ends up in the Enquirer. Hell no. You do it."

"I can't. I've got Brooke. You do it."

"Luke!"

"Nate!"

Cursing, Nathan carefully approached Haley like a curious and scared little puppy sniffing at something new. His normally expert hands trembled as they reached for the very corner of her dress. He almost had it until the door nearby opened. Standing with his hands on his hips and a grim look on his face was none other than Papa Dan.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

"It's no big deal, man," Lucas tried to smooth it over. "The girls just had a little too much fun. We're just going to make sure they get settled for the night."

Dan sneered at Brooke.

"Is this Girls Gone Wild? I mean, is that my daughter in law or Paris Hilton?"

"He said Paris Hilton," Haley covered her mouth and laughed like it was the funniest thing on earth.

"And you," he scoffed, looking her up and down. "How…professional of you, Miss Webb."

"Lay off," Nathan rolled his eyes. "They're just drunk. I've been there and God knows you have, too."

With that, Dan gave his son an evil glare.

"We hire her to take care of you, not the other way around. Just the other week you and the rest of the family, including Peyton, were singing her praises. Now look at her."

"I, I'm sorry," Haley moaned. "I'm like really, really drunk and I know it."

Dan walked over to her.

"You should be quite ashamed of yourself. This is degrading to your profession as a nurse and to yourself as a woman. This is absolutely ridiculous and you should be embarrassed. Of all the crass, distasteful, un lady like things to do, you…"

"Mr. Scott…"

"Do not interrupt me, young lady. You…"

"Mr…"

It was too late. There was a gag and an awful wretching sound as Haley grabbed the wall for support, leaning over and vomiting all over Dan Scott's expensive bedroom slippers. Horrified at the sight and smell, he stood still, afraid to even move as his jaw dropped to the floor.

"That is soooooo rank!" Brooke called out. "What did you eat?"

"This is so bad," Lucas whispered out loud.

"Come on, Haley," Nathan ushered her to her suite.

He propped the door open and led her to her bed where she collapsed.

"Oh God, make the room stop spinning!"

"You gonna make it?" he smirked.

"I swear as long as I live I will never drink again."

Nathan wetted a washcloth and handed it to her, along with a couple of dry towels as he kicked the waste basket near the head of her bed.

"Just in case. Look, I hate to tell you but it's gonna be a pretty long night."

"This sucks…you hate me…you're gonna fire me."

He chuckled.

"You're gonna be fine. You're gonna puke your guts out and have the headache from hell tomorrow but you're gonna be fine."

It was too late. She was already snoring. Checking her one last time, he turned off the main light and headed back to his room. His father, his feet covered in throw up, was still standing in shock.

"Nice look, Dad," Nathan joked on his way back to his own room. "That recycled cranberry juice kind of matches the purple in your robe, don't you think?"

Dan Scott could only stand there furious. Haley Webb was officially making his life a living hell.