Thank you for reading!

WARNINGS: intoxication, sex while under the influence of alcohol, unsafe sex, characters making light of rape (please note: opinions of the characters are not a reflection of my own).

"Hey," Ally said, the word evaporating into the chilly night air before it even properly formed. She shifted her shoulders, feeling the cold of the bricks seep through her shirt.

"Hey," she repeated. If only the world would come into focus a bit she might be able to form solid words that didn't just blend into the fuzziness.

"Hey," she tried a last time. It would have to do. "I have this really crazy idea" Really, really crazy. "I have this wedding to go to, right? My cousin met this complete loser on the internet and now they're getting married and having ugly, socially challenged children. And I need a date because if I show up alone I will look like even more of a loser than Cath and that skinny shit she's marrying. I don't have one and I figure if you had anything better to do tomorrow you wouldn't be getting drunk off your ass and fucking strange women tonight and your shoes are nice so there's that." Apparently she only had two conversational modes when drunk: incapable of forming words and full on babbling.

The man crouched between her thighs looked up, his utter bafflement translating itself into muscle movement transforming his face. "Lady, are you serious? We met like five minutes ago." A quick flash of light from a phone screen. "Okay, yeah, no, eight minutes. My point still stands." Bafflement, Ally mused, was not an attractive look on him. Either of him. She blinked, trying to clear her vision.

"You didn't make a point," she felt obliged to point out, a little smug that her logic appeared to still be intact. It was like a superpower, really. She could be Logicwoman, fighting incongruities everywhere. She was feeling a little giggly, which beat mortified any day. Mortified could still decide to make an appearance, though, so she'd better be careful. "Look, I said it was crazy -"

"Yeah, like 'hide your pots and pans and pet rabbits' crazy," he muttered.

"- but I really, really need a date, and I liked talking to you -"

"I said 'nice tits' and you said 'okay, but you better make me come'. That's it. That's the extent of our conversation. Jesus."

"- and we won't have to be there for long and it's right here in town and there's an open bar and it's tomorrow so I won't get the chance to ask anybody else."

"Well," he did not look convinced, she thought, "let this be a lesson to you to look for a date a little sooner. That way you won't get turned down by the stranger who's eating you out in an alley that smells like it pissed itself and died."

"Fuck you, I did!" She protested, feeling a little less giggly and a little more affronted, insofar as the emotions could solidify before being blurred along with everything else. "I asked a friend to go with me but he came down with a nasty case of coupledom and that mad bitch decided tonight that it wouldn't be 'appropriate' for him to go 'escorting other women to social functions with a romantic focus'. So the fucker flaked out on me and I don't think he's going to gnaw his leg off and free himself in time for me to look like I have a life, so I'm stuck asking some drunk asshole I met like ten minutes ago." Great. Now she was babbling again and she was this close to picking up her underwear and going home. Jerk.

"Oh, fine," he sighed, "as long as the fucking is still on."

The world sure wasn't blurry anymore. It was sharp and bright and way, way too loud. Also, there was a naked man in her bed and she was pretty sure she had passed out before any actual fucking could take place.

"Hey," ignoring the weird sense of deja vu the word evoked, she poked the naked man's shoulder. "You didn't date rape me, did you?"

He snorted. "As they say, can't rape the willing. But no. I like 'em conscious and puke-free. Could you please lower your fucking voice? It's like something drove over my head."

Puke-free? Ally looked down, a little frightened for what she might find. "Hey, fuck you. I'm puke-free. Not a puke to be seen. You'd better be nice, I know where the coffee and aspirin are." She paused. "And who says that, anyway? That's a terrible, terrible thing to say. You should be ashamed of yourself. Or 'they' should be, anyway. I always wonder who 'they' is. Nobody ever seems to know. Do you take sugar in your coffee?"

"What? Christ, are you always this hyper? It's like waking up next to Tigger."

"Yeah, yeah, I get that all the time. Sugar?" Really, some people just could not keep a conversation.

"No. No sugar. Just coffee. And aspirin. Lots of it. Please."

"One morning after special, coming right up!" Ally walked out of the bedroom and proceeded to have a minor panic attack. She turned on her heel and sprinted back into the room. "Dude! Hey, naked dude! Did I really ask you to come to my cousin's wedding?"

"Coffee," he ground out and turned over.

Naked Dude, she thought, was a lot friendlier when he was awake and pain-free. He was also much better looking than she had realised earlier, showing her the reason she had said yes to him the night before. Apart from her blood alcohol level, obviously. After Ally had dressed and done all the girl stuff that would hopefully make her look like less of a hung-over slut, they'd stopped by his apartment where he had had a quick shave and thrown on a suit. Ally had never known a guy who just happened to have a suit ready when needed. Maybe Naked Dude was one of those elusive grown-ups she kept hearing about. At twenty-five, she had never encountered one in the wild. The men she knew considered throwing on a relatively clean genuine reproduction Ramones t-shirt 'dressing up'. There was something to be said for a good-looking man in a good suit.

"You're pretty when you're sober," No-Longer-Naked Dude said, interrupting her mental treatise on the advantages of suits over semi-clean genuine reproduction t-shirts.

"Thanks," she laughed, "thankfully, you're still pretty when I'm sober, too."

They talked for a bit about nothing consequential, such as the arthouse films he watched that she had never heard of and the indie bands she listened to that he had never heard of. After a while they were almost there and Ally felt the need to set something right. She took a deep breath.

"Look, this is going to sound so very fucking trite and unbelievable, but I'm not actually all that big of a slut." Naked Dude appeared to be listening and not about to laugh at her, so she soldiered on. "It's just, I ran into my ex yesterday and then I had Nicky cancel on me and I was just feeling so very sorry for myself so I went out and got drunk. And then you were there and I liked your eyes. Like, a lot. And I just wanted someone to want me for a bit, is all."

He shrugged and answered, "I'm not judging. I was right there with you, remember? Nothing wrong with having fun, as long as you're not hurting anybody, I always say."

Well, that certainly sounded like a practical philosophy.

"Hey," he said, taking his eyes off the road for half a second to look at her "after this wedding thing, do you maybe want to go and get something to eat? Talk a bit, get to know each other, see if we want to give that whole conscious and puke-free thing a try?" Ally thought on it for a bit before answering. Naked Dude was kind of cute and apparently a grown-up, which would be a nice change. On the other hand, there was the whole issue of their mutual drunk sluttiness in a questionable alley to consider, as well as her embarrassing disregard for the etiquette concerning anonymous hook-ups. Though those didn't seem to bother naked dude much, so maybe she should get over them as well. Decisions, decisions. She looked up, startled when he turned off the engine. They had arrived at the venue while she was thinking so perhaps an answer was in order.

"Yeah okay, I'd like that. I mean, if you're sure. Wouldn't want you to fear for your bunny's safety." They smiled at each other and Ally was about to be sick from the sappiness of it. Brusquely she got out of the car before remembering one last thing. She turned around.

"Um, Naked Dude? What's your name, by the way?"

"So, Tom," her mother was saying, "how long have you and Ally known each other?" Ally groaned, she always hated lying to her mother, but sometimes there was no escaping it. The woman was a veritable interrogation machine and incapable of processing the words 'none of your business'. So far she had found out how old Tom was (thirty-two), what he did for a living (something in finances that sounded incredibly complicated but which explained the suits and the nice shoes), where he grew up (not far from here, actually, although he went to college on the other side of the country), who his favourite sibling was (his younger sister, because she wouldn't take any bullshit from him, but for the love of God don't ever tell her that) and what his dog was called (Toto. Yes, seriously).

"Not very long, I'm afraid," Naked Dude -Tom- confessed, "we met just yesterday actually. We got talking and Ally mentioned how her friend had left her high and dry. I couldn't miss an opportunity like that so I rushed to offer my companionship for today." He grinned at her, conspirationally and oh-so-very-hot. "Luckily for me she accepted." Wow. That was only a teeny bit of a lie, yet somehow he had managed to make their encounter sound halfway respectable. Kudos, Naked Dude.

"Ally!" Her mother turned towards her, eyes filled with outrage, "You brought a total stranger to your cousin's wedding?" Ally rolled her eyes. Of course her mother would find fault with something.

"He's not a total stranger, mum. Jesus, we did have coffee first!"

"I think she liked you," Ally teased, helping herself to another serving of vegetables. Naked Dude -Tom- grimaced.

"I guess calling me a potential serial killer was her way of showing affection? What is it with women in your family? You accuse me of being a rapist, she accuses me of being a serial killer. Do I have some kind of untrustworthy face or something?"

"Nah, we're just a suspicious bunch," Ally laughed.

"Really?" he asked, clearly not willing to let it go, "Because if I have, I'd rather know now so I won't be surprised when strangers think I'm a terrorist."

"Oh, stop it. Your face is very trustworthy. Not the least bit nefarious. Hey, if you were a superhero, what would your power be?"

"Sure, change the subject. Um, x-ray vision?" He leered at her, which wasn't very effective because of the forkful of pasta he had just shoved into his mouth.

"Very original. May I remind you, Naked Dude, that you've already seen me naked and that implying you'd like to ogle other women while on a date with me can be considered very discourteous?"

He waggled his eyebrows at her for good measure. "Fine, how about mind-reading? But only if I could turn it off. I can't begin to imagine hearing other people's inanities all day long. What would yours be?"

"Logic," she stated proudly. He scoffed.

"That's not a superpower, that's a useful skill. Look, if you're not taking this seriously I don't see the point of this discussion."

"Oh you're one to talk! And logic is so a superpower. I could talk to criminals, make them see the error of their way through logical reasoning and they would cry, repent and sin no more. Hey, we could team up! You could read their minds, hear why they did what they did and I would show them why they were wrong. You would make an awesome sidekick."

"If this crime-fighting thing is going to work, we'll need some equality in our working relationship. I won't be your sidekick, but I'll be your partner if you like."

He drove a hard bargain, Ally thought. She extended her hand towards him.

"Fine. Logicwoman and Naked Dude, partners in crime-fighting!"

"Are you coming up?" she asked, clinging to his jacket, still a bit weak in the knees. Having a gigglefit until she collapsed might not have been the most polite thing to do, especially since they had been in the middle of kissing. There was just something completely surreal about finding out how a guy kissed if you already knew what his dick looked like. Tom had born it with great dignity, holding her up until she calmed down before swooping in for another kiss. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'd better not. But I'll see you for lunch tomorrow. I'll pick you up at work, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed. Tom turned and walked towards his car. Well, Ally thought, this was by far the most spectacularly failed one night stand she had ever had.

Somehow, that didn't seem like such a bad thing.

"Hey," Ally says, not quite able to make her mouth co-operate with her brain. She shifts a bit, sinking into the soft back of the sofa.

"Hey," she repeats. She's completely out of it, she thinks, if she can hardly manage this one simple syllable.

"Hey," she tries one last time. It'll have to do, but she pairs it with a poke to be sure.

The man kneeling between her thighs looks up. Annoyance, Ally thinks, is just as bad a look on him as bafflement.

"Are you going to make a habit out of this?" Tom asks, "because in that case, I'd like to remind you that last time you did this, neither of us got laid for weeks, and I'd really like to get in some celebratory fucking tonight."

"Oh, bah," she waves away his complaint, "that was your idea anyway. You were the one who wanted to get to really know me first, remember? I was fine with getting to know each other while naked." He grits his teeth and she quickly leans forward to press a kiss on his lips. "And I'm really glad we did things your way, sweetheart. It worked out great."

"Are you going to get to the point any time soon or should I just get busy while you talk?" he asks.

She giggles. She can't really help it, she's so fucking giddy.

"I just wanted to say I'm pretty sure you're supposed to actually give me the ring, not throw it aside and put your head up my twat the second I say yes."

As he fishes the ring from under the coffee table she asks him, "Do you think I should change my name to Mrs. Naked Dude?" He throws her a look that is positively poisonous and thrusts the little box into her hands before diving back under her skirt.

Hm. Maybe she'll hyphenate.