FicWad

Author note: This idea came up in an MSN conversation. And went on from there... Thought it would be interesting, seeing as we've only ever seen people order water from a bar. Anyway, bit of sillyness. ^^

**

Alcohol Ahoy!

It was just an average day on the Saint Nazaire. Well, as average as it got being on a pirate ship floating through Sphere controlled territory and scumming off bits of ships. Especially when those ships were sometimes ones that the Sphere still wanted.

Today, however, they'd only found one derelict Sphere ship. It had been good for nothing much more than scrap metal. That is, until Cortes opened the one small crate in its cargo hold.

Up in the lounge, the rest of the crew were taking it easy.

"I'm bored," yawned Mahad.

"Me too..." muttered Dahlia. She was spinning a single glass on the table, having finished her water.

"You know, if you really want, we could go somewhere alone. I could think of a few..."

"Urgh, shut up, Mahad."

"You said you were bored!"

Cortes came in through the door then, carrying the crate he had found under his arm.

"What'd you find?" Wayan asked. He was feeling pretty bored himself, hence why a wooden crate seemed so interesting.

"Take a look for yourself!" He dropped the crate heavily on the table, causing whatever it contained to chink loudly.

Wayan peered inside, and then pulled a single, brown tinged bottle out. "x x x x..." he read off the label.

"What's x x x x?" asked Cheng.

"It's alcohol," said Cortes with a grin.

Cheng, Lena, Mahad and Dahlia looked at their captain blankly. Wayan seemed to be thinking, as if he'd possibly heard of that somewhere before. The Vector practically bounced out of his seat. "What? Let me see..."

The Vector snatched the bottle off of Wayan and held it up to the light. "I think you're right. This is quite a find..."

"Um..." interrupted Mahad. "I'm guessing we only have one crate of this stuff? How is it so great? We find tons of water and you guys don't get this excited."

"Ah, but alcohol has hardly been made in years," the Vector explained, placing the bottle back on the table. "After the earth shattered there was simply not enough space, or water, to keep the production going. Now there's hardly any being made, and it's extremely hard to find any originals. Though if you ask me, I think this batch may be from before the earth shattered."

"So, what's so exciting about a couple of bottles of it?" Dahlia asked.

"Because we get to drink it all," put in Cortes.

"That good huh?" said Wayan.

"Drinking enough of it alters your perception, loosens your boundaries, and makes everybody look prettier."

"That good?" Wayan repeated.

"I doubt that..." muttered Dahlia, glancing at Mahad.

"Cool!" said Cheng and Lena together.

"Can we have some then?" Lena asked.

"Er..." said the Vector. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea..."

"Why not?" asked Cheng.

**

Twenty minutes later, Cheng and Lena had finally been removed from the lounge. The Vector had tried unsuccessfully for the first fifteen minutes to explain to them that alcohol was not meant to be consumed by children. Cortes had finally taken over, and gotten rid of them by offering them some, thereby proving that children wouldn't like the taste.

Now only Cortes, Dahlia, Wayan, Mahad and the Vector remained. They each sat around the table with one bottle of alcohol in front of them.

"So..." Wayan asked. "Are we going to ration this out, or..."

"No," interrupted Cortes, before sculling practically half of his bottle.

The Vector started drinking quite happily. Wayan looked at his a bit, tasted it, and, seeming content that it tasted alright, started drinking at a moderate pace.

Dahlia and Mahad both looked slightly confused by the taste.

"Doesn't taste all that great..." Mahad said.

"It's not supposed to," said Cortes, finishing off his first bottle.

"Works for me..." said Dahlia, drinking a little bit more.

"Let me show you how you're supposed to do it!" grinned Mahad, and tried to scull his bottle. He coughed and choked a half second later.

The Vector giggled at him.

"Very manly, Mahad," said Dahlia.

Cortes had his second bottle out, and was nearly halfway through.

"Should we share these out before we get... carried away?" Wayan asked.

Cortes looked at him and grinned. "Better start drinking faster!" And finished his second bottle.

The Vector giggled again.

Dahlia looked at him. "How much have you had...?"

The Vector looked at his nearly empty bottle. "Oh, about five hundred millilitres..."

"I finished mine!" Mahad proclaimed, holding up the bottle.

"Whoop-de-ding!" exclaimed Dahlia, slamming her empty bottle down on the table.

Both of them went for another bottle.

Forty-five minutes, and a good few bottles later the crew were starting to feel the effects.

"You know," said Cortes, stopping in the middle of a bottle. "Have you ever noticed that Sphere ships all look the same? It's pretty unimaginative if you ask me. And they're such boring shapes..."

Wayan nodded and drank some more.

"That's because the Sphere is stupid!" put in Dahlia. "Stupid ships and stupid people..."

"Less talking, more drinking," said Mahad, waving his bottle in front of Dahlia. It was emptier than hers.

Dahlia slapped his hand out of her face. "Go away."

"Hey!"

The Vector giggled, for what must've been at least the tenth time.

"Stop doing that!" growled Dahlia.

The Vector looked dejected, and took another bottle of alcohol.

"At least we have a good ship," Cortes continued. "She's much better than any Sphere ship." He looked down at the table, and then petted it. "I love this ship... I mean, there was this other ship... but I only looked at her. I've always been faithful to the Saint Naziare."

"I like the Hyperion!" put in Mahad.

"You know," said the Vector. "I think I can fly like the Hyperion! Watch!" He got up, somewhat unsteadily. Then spread his arms and ran around. "Nerrrromh!"

Mahad glared at him. "I can fly better than that!"

"Can not! Nerrrom!"

"The Saint Nazaire can fly better than both of you put together, and she wouldn't look as silly neither!" proclaimed Cortes, and downed the rest of his bottle.

"Fine, I'll show you I can fly better," said Mahad. He got up, and promptly tripped over his chair and fell on his face.

"Mahad's lost his ability to fly stuff. We're all doomed," said Dahlia, and took the rest of Mahad's alcohol.

Cortes took another bottle. "How do all of you feel about kilts?"

Wayan took another bottle, and shrugged. No one else responded.

"Well, I think they're sexy."

Mahad got back up off the floor and steadied himself.

The Vector ran past him. "Nerromm..."

"You're not doing it right!" growled Mahad. "Watch!" He put out his arms and ran around. "Nerroomm!"

"Fine!" pouted the Vector. He sat back down and took another bottle.

"Nerooom!" continued Mahad, running past Dahlia and nearly making her tip her drink over herself.

"Mahad! You're a total klutz! And stupid!"

"I am not!"

"You know, apparently when you're drunk you can't even remember simple things like the alphabet," said Cortes. "A, B, C, D... E, F, G..."

"You're not even flying! You're on the ground!"

"Fine, then! I'll fly not on the ground!" Mahad bounced around a bit and headed for the glass windows - and bounced right back off and onto the floor. "Ow..."

"Ha! You suck!" giggled Dahlia. She took another drink from her bottle, then tipped it upside down and shook it.

"M... er..."

"N," said Wayan.

"N, O... R... er... forget it." Cortes gave up and went for another bottle of alcohol. He grabbed the same one Dahlia was reaching for.

"That's mine!"

"Dahlia, let go of the bottle!"

"But I had it first!"

"I found all of them! Now let go of the bottle before I have to order you to!"

Dahlia glared at him, but finally relinquished the alcohol.

Cortes pulled it close to him and glared at everybody around the table before opening it. "Everyone leave my alcohol alone."

Dahlia took another bottle and moved her chair further away.

"I can't get up..." said Mahad.

"Shut up," growled Dahlia.

"I can't see very well either... whoo..."

"That one's mine too!" growled Cortes, grabbing back another bottle that the Vector had tried to claim.

"Oh... but..." complained the Vector. He flopped onto the table with his hand outstretched towards the bottles, but seemed unable to get much further.

Wayan quietly took another bottle.

Cortes didn't notice, as he was still glaring at the Vector. "I hope my hair doesn't turn grey like yours. Mine's too pretty. It wouldn't look good grey... Dahlia stop looking at my bottle!"

"I wasn't!"

"Mmmm..." groaned Mahad.

"Shuddup, Mahad!" Dahlia growled again.

Mahad shut up. He also decided that he should just stay on the ground. He fell asleep two minutes later.

The Vector, who had been unable to work up the energy to take another bottle after Cortes had taken his last one, soon joined him.

"Everybody's so lazy!" complained Dahlia.

"Sleeping is over-rated," agreed Cortes. "Drinking is better. Too bad it's easier to fall asleep than it is to get drunk."

"You know, I think we're doing quite well, but."

"Stop coveting my alcohol!"

"I was not!"

"You were too!"

Wayan took another bottle.

"You're being mean!" Dahlia leant back in her chair, and came into contact with a red cushion. She picked it up.

A second later the cushion bounced off Cortes' head. "Who's throwing things?!" Cortes exclaimed. "The Saint Nazaire is being attacked!"

Dahlia giggled and her chair tipped the rest of the way over, dumping her on the ground.

"Don't throw cushions! You'll scratch the hull!" Cortes growled, slamming his nearly empty bottle on the table. The motion seemed to unsteady him, and his head smacked on the table right behind it. He groaned.

"Hi, Mahad..." Dahlia said from down on the ground. "Mahad's dead..."

Wayan took the last bottle from the crate. By the time he'd finished, he noticed that Dahlia had gone quiet and Cortes still hadn't moved his head from the table. Having nothing better to do, Wayan decided it'd probably be best to just join them.

**

The next morning, Cheng and Lena both woke up to find that the Saint Nazaire wasn't going anywhere.

"Where do you suppose everybody is?" Lena asked, as they looked around the empty bridge.

Ten minutes later, they checked in the lounge, and found the rest of the crew lying all over the place, fast asleep.

"You think they're alright?" Cheng asked.

Lena knelt next to Mahad and poked him. "Mahad?"

Mahad groaned. "Ten more minutes..."

"Guess they're just sleeping..." said Cheng. "Looks like they finished all that alcohol stuff too."

"Cortes still has a bit," observed Lena, pointing to the bottle in the sleeping captain's hand.

Cheng went to take it from him, but Cortes tightened his grip. "Leave it... I'm going to need that."

"Why is everybody sleeping?" Lena asked.

"It's called a hangover... guess I forgot to tell them about that bit," explained Cortes. He sat up off the table, looking disorientated. "Wish I'd remembered it myself."

"That seems like a silly thing to make a drink do," said Cheng. "Why'd you drink so much?"

"You tend to drink more, once you've had a few."

"Glad we didn't have any..."

"Guess I'd better wake everybody up..." Cortes slammed the bottom of the bottle on the table, and said loudly: "Alright! ... ow..."

Dahlia, Wayan, Mahad and the Vector all jumped and started waking up.

"Okay... everybody up on the bridge, ten minutes."

Mahad groaned and Dahlia made a noise like she'd just sat up and whacked her head on the table.

Cortes got up somewhat unsteadily, and headed out the door, still clutching his last bottle. "I'll see you all up there."

"Dahlia... do you feel funny?" Mahad asked.

"Yeah..."

"It's called a hangover," Lena explained.

Cheng nodded.

"Maybe I should have informed everyone about that..." said the Vector.

Wayan groaned.

"Does anyone remember doing anything... weird?" Mahad asked.

"I don't remember doing anything..." said Wayan.

"I sort or remember Mahad running around. I think the Vector was as well," said Dahlia.

"Ah... no... I remember nothing at all..." said the Vector.

"We'd better get to the bridge," said Wayan, getting up slowly.

Everyone groaned, and made attempts, varying in success, to get up.

"Why do adults do such silly things?" Cheng asked Lena, watching them all leaving the room.

"I have no idea..."