Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Moving In, Moving Up, Moving On

Chapter 6 - Drunk Bambi

by whatkatydid 14 reviews

Never Drink.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Warnings: [!!] - Published: 2007-04-21 - Updated: 2007-04-21 - 2095 words

Her twittering on the phone was the first and most irritating sound upon waking up. He moved ungraciously into the kitchen, rubbing the back of his hair and stretching slightly.

"He was being a total arse about it, I drafted up the development plans and he OK'd them weeks ago, listen, if he has a problem with them, get him to call me!" she said into the small black cell against her ear. She stirred the coffee and handed it to Patrick, he took it, surprised at her efficiency and also the wide smile he got from her.

"OK, well let me know how it goes, I'm on the end of the phone if you need anything." She said, wrapping up the call.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked

She took a big sigh.

"I'm debating whether I need your buddy Wentz to give me a pay rise or not!" she said, Patrick chuckled.

"I've worked for American's for years, but I still can't get over how full on everything has to be, everything has to be yesterday, whatever you've done, they need more, the pressure is unhealthy, no wonder you're all dying from heart disease." She spieled off. Patrick blinked silently.

"You're an American now." He said wittily.

"Balls...that's right." She said as she rummaged in the fridge, pulling out yogurt and taking an apple.

"So...are you all OK for tonight?" he asked.

Petra stared at him blankly.

"Tonight?" she frowned.

"The launch party?" Patrick asked. Petra kept her frown.

"Oh you're kidding!!" Patrick whined

"Oh stop your whining lamb chops, of course I didn't forget it!" she laughed gently.

"You're a bitch, you know that?" he said, pointing.

"Put a sock in it Stump." She said,

"A sock??"

"That's right." She informed him.

"You English girls are -"

"-I'm American." She smiled. He laughed again.

"You can say what you want, according to People magazine, you are , and I quote ' besotted and unashamed of the affection that you have for me.' End of quote." Petra smirked, putting the magazine back down.

"Gimme that!" he muttered, taking the magazine and looking at the pictures that were taken of them both at a club 2 weeks ago.

"This only proves the rubbish their willing to put into these magazines to force unknowing consumers to buy it." He ranted.

Petra grabbed the magazine back off him.

"They speak not of untruth - listen to this: 'Shy lead singer, Patrick Stump,' see, that's true,/'and his English rose wife'/ now that's definitely true, I am a rose-"

"-You're not a rose, you're the thorn's on the rose."

"Oooo, ouch! ANYWAY, it continues: /'his unexpected wedding to the unknown Britain has been accurately timed with the release of Fall Out Boy's 5th album due out in July' /see, they know."

"They speculate, they don't know."

Petra shrugged, putting another spoonful of yogurt into her mouth.

Petra sat slumped in a private booth in the venue they were at that evening, celebrating some launch of some product that some people might buy. In all fairness, in her intoxicated state, she was disinterested in what it was all about. Sliding out from her chair she stood up and slid her hands over her hips, smoothing down her dress in as much lady like style as possible.

"Where's Petra?" CeCe frowned as she got back to the empty booth with two vulgar colored cocktails in hand.

"That way!" Andy pointed towards the women's toilets.

"Is she ok?"

"She's like a little drunk bambi." Andy said with a smirk.

"I'm gonna go check on her, guard the drinks." She said.

CeCe pushed open the door to the toilets and Petra's head popped up from where she was drying her hands under the heater.

"CeCe's!!" She bellowed loudly and before CeCe could stop it, took the entire weight of Petra's body as she fell into her and they both tumbled to the floor.

After some serious wriggling around and maneuvering, CeCe managed to hoist her up, dusting down her trousers.

"Come on Bambi..." she sighed, pulling her arm over her shoulder.

"I love you CeCe." Petra sighed and rested her head against the young woman's chest. CeCe giggled gently and rubbed Petra's head affectionately.

CeCe carefully guided her back to the booth, losing her seconds before landing;

"Oh bugger!" Petra called out as she slid to the floor, giggling.

"Oh my god, is she trollied?" Patrick asked, peering over.

"Uh...." CeCe started.

"CeCe!!" Petra whined, holding both her hands up, begging for help up.

"Oh god..." Patrick sighed, looking around quickly. He grabbed Petra's hand and yanked her up, more easily than he though and Petra squealed excitedly.

"Patrick Stump!!" Petra said loudly. A few people turned and stared.

"Shhh!" he scolded her,

"You shhh!!!" She said back, more angrily.

"I'm taking you home.." He said in a low tone.

"No..." She said, shaking her head groggily.

Patrick firmly gripped around her upper arm and Petra stumbled again.

"You're out of your depth, we're going home before you embarrass yourself." He said into her ear. She laughed drunkenly.

"I'm going home!!" She announced to everyone, Patrick pulled his hat down further and hid the embarrassment in his face. Petra swiped up the cocktail, courtesy of CeCe and as she went to sip it, Patrick diverted it from her hand.

"Hey, no way!" she whined.


"Patty!" Petra whined again.

It wasn't even funny for him as he pulled Petra's pie-eyed body out of the car and close to him as she barely made it to the front door.

"This was fun!!" She giggled. He shoved his key in the door, as he unlocked it, he rushed to the alarm to deactivate it.

"Woops!" she peeped and as he flicked the light on, he saw her on her knee's at the front door, pulling stuff back into her handbag. He stood for a moment and just smirked to himself. She was actually amusing him greatly.

He knelt down and picked up her cell phone, she took it from his hand and he tugged at her fingers softly. She tugged them away as he let go, her hand flicked at her own face.

"Ow!" she laughed.

"I'm sorry!" he said, touching the side of her head slightly.

She rubbed her face where she flicked it and continued to laugh.

"Well at least you're a happy drunk!" he said.

"I'm not drunk!" she protested.

"Of course you're not, you're an English Rose...." He muttered.

"I hate roses." She said, Patrick chuckled and moved behind her, gripping under her arms and she climbed up.

They stumbled towards the stairs and Patrick looked up at them all. Strangely, deciding against that potentially deadly ascent.

Petra took the first uneven step on the stair and Patrick stopped her.

"Here.." he gestured, and held out his arms.

"Put your arms around my neck." He said, and she obeyed silently, he lifted her and began climbing the stairs.

"Don't drop me!" she said giggling.

"Shut up." He said and kicked open her door to her bedroom.

She fell face first into her pillows and Patrick shook his head as he looked down at her.

"Don't lie on your face.....Come on.." he said, rolling her over.

"I'm gonna be sick!" she cried suddenly.

"No!!" he yelled, quickly hauling her across to the bathroom.

Tonight was going to be a long night....

Patrick watched silently as Petra sipped a ( highly probable hangover cure ) drink from a huge glass. It was late in the day before he got home and gathered that she hadn't been up too long.

Feeling a presence, she turned and pushed her sunglasses up her head.

"Hey." She said quietly.

"Uhh...Hi." He said shortly. Her glasses slipped back down and she continued to read the paper.

"Um, how are you feeling?" he asked, walking out and perching on the sun lounger next to her.

"I'm never drinking again." She muttered.

Patrick laughed and nodded.

"That's wise." He said shiftily.

"I don't think I can handle waking up and not actually remembering a thing about what I did the night before." She said sadly.

"You don't remember anything?" he asked.


Patrick remained quiet.

"Oh god, ....please tell me I was half decent!" she moaned. Patrick stared at her.

Petra's hand clamped over her mouth.

"What did I do?" she asked, her eyes petrified. Patrick's eyes soon smiled and this soothed her.

"Nothing! You're a funny drunk....although you do have a little more balls..."

"Did I do anything? Anything at all??"

Patrick smiled at her with his eyes again.

"Nah..." he said, shaking his head. She rested her head in her hand quickly.

"I'm so sorry." She sighed.

"It's alright...just....just don't drink again." He advised her. She shook her head in the palm of her hand.

"I know. I won't." she said, Patrick affectionately put an arm around her.

"Come harm was done." He said, he pulled her tightly into a side hug.

"No more getting rat arsed ever..." she vowed.

Patrick had just got back from being away for 3 weeks doing a tour in Europe, Petra was secretly happy because she'd needed the breathing space. She knuckled down to the project work for Decaydance much to the delight of her boss.

The anxiety of her workload was taking it's toll on her body. She felt exhausted and her nervous tummy hindered her most of the day. Gulping down some indigestion tablets she, sat back down and took deep breaths.

"Are you OK?" he asked, looking over his considerably larger laptop.

"Just feeling a bit...y'know...icky.."

"Icky?" he frowned.

"My nerves are playing me up - I think it's the work, I don't know.." She said softly, drinking more water.

"You should see a Doctor." He said, Petra shook her head.

"I'm really OK, I get it all the time."

"No, I want you to see a Doctor." Patrick said.

"Patrick - I said I'm fine damn it." She snapped at him.

"Whatever - Feel crap, I was just trying to help!" He huffed, getting up and walking out.

Petra quietly steamed at the table, not liking being told what to do was her biggest flaw.

"Patrick, wait!" she said, getting up quickly, rushing after him.

"I'm sorry." She said, he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"If you can get me to a Doctor, that would be great..." She sighed.

Her foot tapped anxiously, the Doctor had gone out the room minutes before and she was letting the worry of his absence grow bigger in her stomach. He'd done all the usual checks and was taking brief notes of her history when he'd gone out the room.

"Sorry to keep you waiting Mrs Stump." He said with a friendly smile, he sat back down. There was a pause and Petra looked at him with a deep glare, full of tension.

"I'm not sure if I can give you much to help with your symptoms." He said gently, Petra frowned and there was concern in his eyes.

"I don't understand."

"Mrs Stump..." he started. Now she was shaking inside.

"You're pregnant."

Petra stared at him.


"Your urine dip was positive for pregnancy."

"That's absurd! I can't be pregnant, I haven't had sex."

The Dr's eyes wandered over this confused patient's face.

"Well...that would present a fairly strong argument for not being pregnant..." he said, clearing his throat.

"This is the most stupid thing I've ever heard." She said, getting snotty.

"Ok, let's run some more tests, if you're not pregnant, then I need to know why your Urine contains the hormones that reflect that." He said eloquently, considering he knew there was no error at all. Her urine was teaming with the hormones relevant to pregnancy.

"Yes you do." She said firmly, standing up.

"I'll arrange for you to come in for further tests." He said,

"Good." She replied, through gritted teeth, she gripped her bag and turned towards the door.

"We'll be in touch Mrs Stump." He said warmly,

Patrick stood up where he'd been in the waiting room and looked at her pale face.

"So?" he asked quietly.

Petra looked at him, her whole world was crumbling just under the skin that stopped him seeing exactly how she was feeling at that very moment.

"Just a bit of anxiety." She said weakly.

Patrick studied her face.

"Anxiety..." he repeated, she nodded.

"There's nothing el-"

"-Just take me home." She said gently and curtly.

"Right...home." Patrick said, rubbing the back of his hair.

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