A/N: Sorry this took so long. Also Sorry its on the short side. I decided I wanted to add a bunch to what I already had written down, so there is like an extra chapter I hadn't planned on writing. I've been a bit busy.

Readers: You are the reason I stay up typing until ungodly hours of the morning. 3

Reveiwers: You are my motivation that I could not have the patience to write without 3

Anyway, since I forgot last chapter:

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of TDI/A, ect. Its a little depressing.

Enjoy and such.

-First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you -

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Duncan Pov

Damn. This chick seriously needs to learn how to hold her liquor. Especially if she is drinking what she is. I know that can't taste good. So, she has to be pretty wasted to have drank about eight of them.

And, of course, out of all the drunks Princess could be, she is a little kid drunk.

"Can I call you Dunkie?" she asked, eyes wide with anticipation. Her eyes were a surprising shade of very dark brown, almost black. She has a thin black tank top with an amazing view that clashed with her tan skin.

"No," I told her plainly. There is no way in hell some prissy little princess is going to go around calling me 'Dunky.' I have a reputation to uphold.

She frowned for a second. "I'm gonna call you Dunkie," she giggled into her hand before downing another shot. Sure, I could have left her, but hey, she's hot. That and I am pretty sure her blonde friend would come looking for me. Besides, it's not like I had anything better to do tonight. "So, Dunky," Princess continued, batting her eyelashes at me. "What is with your hair?" She cocked her head to the side while running her fingers through my mohawk.

"I know, Babe. It's sexy, huh?" I answered cockily while leaning back in the barstool. Of course, my smart ass loses balance and falls. So Princess starts laughing her ass off like I am the most fucking hilarious thing she's ever seen.

"Okay, okay. Yeah, I fell on my ass. It's so funny," I muttered, sarcasm lacing every word.

Courtney just giggles some more and flashes a gorgeous smile my way. It was really cute.

I stood up and got back on the bar stool.

Princess had a natural beauty to her that you don't see in many girls my age. Other girls pile on so much makeup that you can't even identify them as the same person. Not her. She had little, if any, makeup on.

She was different and strange and intriguing.

Don't think I am soft just for saying that, because I can still shove my foot so far up your ass that you'll taste the bottom of my chucks for weeks.

I can't believe she is still giggling at my fall.

"Well…" I smiled. "Aren't you a cutie?" That earned a blush and another giggle from the brunette.

The girl was absolutely sloshed. Might as well take advantage of her good mood and make her smile a little. Maybe make out with her a little.

"Y-You're not my cup of tea, Dunkie. Duncan Doughnuts," She slurred with a giggle.

"Is that right?" I had to laugh. That isn't tea you're drinking, honey. "I happen to be your tenth shot of tequila, sweetheart." I flashed a smirk at her.

"I-I needed to get awaaaaay," she slurred.

I raised an eyebrow. "Get away from what?"

"Me." Her eyebrows furrowed with what looked like frustration. "Where's Bridgey?" The brunette made an attempt to stand up and walk over to Malibu Barbie. However, she tripped almost immediately.

"Whoa, Princess. I am not about to let you break something." I snaked my arm around her waist to steady her.

We walked across the crowded dance floor to where her friends were dancing.

"What are you doing?" her friend pressed, impatiently.

I rolled my eyes. "Chill, Malibu. Princess here drank a little too much. She can't walk two steps without falling," I retorted. "You're welcome, by the way."

"This is Duuunkie," Princess slurred. "He's got greeeeen on his head," she finished with another fit of giggles, referring to my mohawk. What can I say? Chicks dig it.

"Dunkie?" The blonde questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"It's Duncan." I rolled my eyes.

"Courtney, we are going home." Malibu spoke sternly to Princess like you would a five year old.

"Dunkie has to come with us!" The brunette protested with a pout.

I chuckled. The freckles that splashed across the bridge of her nose stood out.

"Dunkie can't come with us," Bridgette told her rather frigidly.

"Yeah-huh! He's gonna make us less lonely Bridgey." She stated as factorally as a majorly drunk person could.

"Yeah, Bridgey. Let me stay." I shot her my infamous puppy dog look. Hey, it worked on my mom. Sometimes.

"Look how cwuuute he looks." She pouted again, while cupping my cheeks in her hands.

"Ugh! Fine," she cracked. "But when you wake up screaming, don't come crying to me." The blonde stormed out the door. Courtney and I followed, my arm still clamped around her waist.

This is gonna be interesting.