Chapter Three: The Bottle and a Bed

"First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you."
~Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald

There was a bottle of amber-colored liquor in the direct center of the table. Mia stood behind me, slowly counting the bills and coins that she had received from the previous drinking contest, and was now getting from mine. There was also a fresh tray of clean shot glasses sitting on the edge, just waiting to be filled up and drunken from. Of course my senses finally realized that this was the bad part that had clawed at my stomach early this evening.

I wished, and I mean hoped, wished, and prayed to whatever god there was, that I would make it out of this without finding myself in an empty alleyway or in some stranger's bed. Both had happened too many times in my life for my liking, and I didn't want it to happen again. Ever again.

One of my challengers snickered something in the old man's ear, both laughing loudly at their inside joke. My fists were clenched under the table, waiting for the first glass to be filled so I could get this over with.

After Mia had taken the many bets that had been placed, she grabbed the clear bottle full of amber-liquid and pulled off two glasses from the tray.

My green eyes didn't glance away from the dull gray ones of my challenger. I slipped off my coat, the royal purple fabric lying on the back of the chair, and rolled up my extremely long sleeves. One edge of the sleeve stopped from my wrist, while the other led a stream of ruffles down the edge and to the other corner which stopped an inch past the length of my middle finger.

This was going to be one long night.

The two glasses were set in front of us, one each. I didn't pull my still-clenched fists from under the table and my eyes still stared into the gray eyes of the scar-faced man. We stared at each other, silently shouting for the other to give up so they could either, one, take the winning money easily or, two, so they didn't have to get shit-faced drunk. The latter would be me, if you hadn't guessed it.

"Ready?" A nod from both of us said that we were.

"Steady those glasses…" The crowd grew quiet, waiting for round one to come and go. Who would give in first; the stranger or the girl?

"DRINK!" Before she could even finish the word, my hand had shot up, taken the glass, brought it to my lips, and I swallowed the liquid fire; shaking off the burning feeling that it gave my throat. I had set my glass down before my challenger could even finish taking the amber liquid in between his teeth.

I wasn't a drinker, only a few glasses of wine and a few shots for celebration here and there, but when I was forced to actually drink a lot, I quickly got it over with. The burning in my throat didn't go away, and it showed a bit when my eyes started to tear up, but I quickly wiped them away and nodded for another shot. There were a few curses from the crowd that had gathered; it seemed some didn't think a girl could handle a shot of pure alcohol.

I was poured a second glass, and downed it just as quick as the first.

My challenger did the same.

Then a third glass was placed in front of me.

And then a fourth.

And then a fifth.

On my sixth one, I couldn't tell what was up from down or side from side. I could only make out the large blur of color from the crowd that surrounded us in the dimly lit bare. I could only make out my glass, my challenger's glass, and his mysterious gray eyes.

The alcohol had attacked my nerves, making the burning sensation in my throat finally die down. Well, actually, it was still there, but I was so drunk right now that I really didn't care.

"You okay, Faye?" was what the worried voice of Mia said. I bobbed my head slightly, getting dizzy suddenly, and slapped my hand on the table. I could hear the rush of liquid leave a bottle and ring at the sides of a glass.

I opened my eyes, not knowing they were even closed, and stared at the amused look on the stranger's face. He didn't look a bit fazed by the alcohol. Shit; I was screwed on this.

You know when you're drunk and you do things that you would never do when sober or even a bit out of your right mind?

Well, I just made an example for why you shouldn't enter a drinking contest if you can't hold liquor very well.

I grabbed three extra glasses from the tray and snatched the bottle from Mia's hand. The crowd had quieted down, trying to figure out what I was doing next.

I grabbed one glass in one hand and another glass in my other hand. With a small "cheers" motion, I downed one and then another without even swallowing the first. Sure, I slightly choked on the liquid since it was a lot, but I shook the shiver running down my mind and took the other two glasses. I did the same motion, only this time swallowing each glass full one at a time.

When I had actually placed the glasses back on the table, my ears began to ring. I heard a thud. Everything was suddenly very bright, even though the room had just been lit by only a few candles and broken lights. My green eyes didn't come in contact with the gray ones of my challenger, but instead the other side of the table was empty.

What had made my ears ring were the cheers that surrounded me. He had passed out before me.

I had won the drinking contest.

My head immediately connected with the table. The annoying buzz of alcohol entered my senses and I couldn't do anything else with it, other than put up with it.

I was suddenly lifted from the chair and table, though. My mind told me to come to my unbothered senses and fight the restraint that had picked me up, but it was too warm to even think of hurting it. Mind you, I'm calling it an "it" since I have no idea what else to call it.

The soft voice of Mia was muffled slightly from the rowdy chatter and sounds that made up the bar. I unconsciously moved closer to the warmth that surrounded one side of me; I was savoring it greatly. I knew I was going to wake up the next morning and find myself so sick that I would be in bed for a week. At least I didn't have to get supplies for awhile. It would be much worse having to explain to my customers that they're orders weren't done because of a hang-over, then actually going through the hang-over.

"There's a key… second door on the right… and don't try anything funny, mister!"

That's all I could make out before the sounds of the bar suddenly disappeared and my bare skin was met with the cool night air. What happened to my jacket? Oh well, I would ask Mia in the morning.

There were more sounds of the night life as lights flashed behind my eyes. My mind was slowly beginning to close down, surely being overcome by sleep, but I welcomed it. I was tired anyways. The drinking just gave e a self-excuse for falling asleep earlier than usual.

And before I knew it, the sounds of Loguetown were no more. But I swear I heard the breaking of a bottle just before I lost consciousness.

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Faye closed her eyes slowly, taking in the familiarity of the scene she was imagining. To think that she had actually been wrapped in those arms was beyond her imagination… but it had really happened.

She sighed, finding the feeling disappearing like always, and went back to her writing. How much time had passed since her family left to go back home? Faye had never been very good with time. She found that knowing it was usual. Just do whatever you want, no matter how much time it takes to do it.

That's what she always said.

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When my mind began to fade out of the lovely dreamless sleep I was having, I noticed something weird. I wasn't in my clothes that I was wearing last night, meaning that someone had changed me. It couldn't have been Mia; she's too lazy to do that kind of thing. I also found myself not facing the line window in my room, which usually is what wakes me up because of the sun.

That I was happy for since my head was already pounding from the amount of alcohol I had consumed that day.

Another thing I found weird, something warm – that wasn't my blanket – was wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer into something extremely warm that made me want to go back to sleep. But the curiosity I had was slowly eating at my insides. I had to find out what was going on.

I opened my eyes, facing the doorway that led out of my room. Mia was leaning against the doorsill, arms folded over her chest with a one-brow-raised look. My face scrunched up in confusion when I saw her. Why was she looking at me?

To add to my pounding head and curiosity, Mia was acting weird. What was wrong with her?

"Don't tell me you did it…" she mumbled, but I could hear her perfectly clear. The sudden realization hit me harder than I thought. I wasn't in bed…alone.

What I had thought to be my pillow all night long, was some random guy who had somehow gotten in my home. Usually, Mia would be freaking out… why wasn't she freaking out?

Then I saw it. The familiar custom made cowboy hat sitting on the nightstand right above my head. I could see a little personal touch has been added to it over the past however-many-hours-had-passed since I had given it to that freckled-face small-fry.

My body was completely still.

I could feel the small rise of fall of his bare chest on my back through the thin fabric of my night shirt. Alarms were going off in my head and a large "WARNING" sign was flashing in front of my eyes. But I didn't move; not a single muscle other than my heart to keep beating my lungs so I could breathe.

To tell you the truth, this actually felt nice. But, that comfort soon vanished when his hand slid down my slid and too low for my liking. Mia's eyes widened, her slightly amused look gone.

Before the guy even knew what was coming, I had grabbed his arm in a flash and pushed his face into one of the pillows so that I could straddle his back and hold his twisted arm there. Only after a few seconds, he started to struggle, needing the oxygen that I was cutting off. Once I was sure I had gotten him god enough, I pulled his head away from the pillow by grabbing his shaggy black hair. There was a gasp, more struggling, and a stream of even more curses.

"What the hell are you doing in my bed, and how did I get changed?"

He stopped suddenly, relaxing when finding it was just me (I guess), and letting me do as I pleased to get answers. I tugged at his hair again, a small wince running through his body, and tilted his head to the side so that I could look at his face. He had that annoying boyish grin again.

"Well you see… it's a long story, and I'm sure you don't want to hear it all so –"

"Start explaining or I'll break your neck," I threatened through my teeth. I knew I wouldn't do that (I wasn't going to get blood on my bed), but he didn't know that.

His dark brown eyes widened, the Adams apple near the middle of his neck bobbed slowly, and he opened his mouth to answer.

"Well I-I sometimes just fall asleep without me-meaning to. And um… and I guess that sort of happened la-last night?"

I glared at him darkly, not really taking that as the truth, but he made a pretty good point. Isn't there a really long and weird scientific name for something like that?

"You only answered my first question," I growled, twisting his arm even more. There as another small wince, but I could barely even tell it was there.

"Okay, okay! When I brought you here, you mumbled that you were hot and started pulling at your clothes," I lifted a brow, not convinced, again. "I swear I didn't do anything to you! I didn't even look at you when you started to pull off your clothes!" He answered before I could do any more harm.

I gave up, though. Maybe there was something wrong with this guy… it had been pretty hot in those thick-cotton clothes. I let go of him and slid off the bed.

The long night shirt barely even passed my hips when stood up and because of this; I pulled on last night's pair of pants and stood close to the wall. He was just now sitting up fully and scratching what needed to be scratched, and cracking what needed to be cracked. I folded my arms over my chest, and glanced from him to the now empty doorway.

"Hurry up and get out. I have to open up the shop soon." I ignored the pounding at my head, even if it was making me dizzy. I had more on my hands than just that kind of thing.

He frowned slightly, shifted his slightly twisted-to-the-side shorts and grabbed the hat from the night stand. I could now see the customization that he had made to it. Red beads circled it with what looked to be two circular glass-lenses that had "smileys" painted on them; one frowning and one smiling. Weird, but interesting.

"I said move it, boy," I growled at him again. He huffed slightly, and rolled his eyes. His face soon held the familiar boyish grin.

"The name's Ace, ya know…" he mumbled, and there was that ringing in my ears again.

"Yeah, yeah, and I don't care. Move it," I pushed him from the back and out of my room, shutting the door.

"Good morning~!" shouted a surprisingly happy Mia. "Hey Ace, want to stay for breakfast?"

She was seriously going to let him stay after the scene that had just unfolded?!

What was seriously wrong with this girl?

"Of course! I never refuse a good meal," he answered. Great; I better not have to be the one to sit beside him…

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A/N: Alright! This is gonna be a real quick A/N 'cause I have to get in the bed. Yeah, I still have a bedtime… Anyways, I hope this chapter is okay and the errors aren't HUGE. I wrote this without any thought of checking for mistakes, so there most likely are a couple. I'll edit it tomorrow if there's anything major. Other than that, night! And thank you every one who reviewed/favorited/alerted/etc this story!