Hey there! I have a Spandylicious (is that weird? XD) story for you here! This is a little something that I've had in the back of my head for quite a while and I'm glad I finally got around to writing it. It's not gonna be some big, special story. It's just a little something that'll leave some room for you to fill in the gap with your imaginations. Also, I'd like to dedicate this story to my friend, AtomicFlounder! ATF, I know how much you love a drunk SpongeBob, so I hope you get a kick out of this. XD Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants or any of its characters.

Vanilla and Acorns

~French Narrator~

"Ah, a lovely night in the beautiful land of sea creatures. The sun has disappeared, the glorious night sky is covering the city with its fascinating… eh, darkness. And the people of Bikini Bottom are having a calm, relaxing and normal evening. Well, everyone except for our favorite sponge and sea star. They are, how you say, completely wasted."

"Wait up for me, Patrick. I'm having a little trouble here… w-walking." Said a very wobbly and very intoxicated SpongeBob. He and Patrick had just left, or rather, wandered off aimlessly, from a wild and loud party being held at Goo Lagoon. To celebrate the end of summer, Larry the Lobster had granted himself the pleasure of taking over the entire beach, serving up colorful drinks that teenagers weren't allowed to have (and were warned not to tell their parents about).

The party was fun, the party was rambunctious, the party was filled with all kinds of outrageous and, dare one say, risqué behavior. Heck no, not of the extreme kind by any means, but there certainly were a lot of teens playing games of Spin the Bottle behind their parents' backs. Again, something they were warned not to tell them about.

As for SpongeBob and Patrick? Well, they partied, that was for sure. They, especially SpongeBob, danced until their arms fell off. Which wasn't a big deal because they grew right back. And when it came to those "special" and colorful drinks, the two best friends declined to take part in consuming them for the drinking contest. Instead, they figured that participating in the ice cream eating contest was far more their speed. After all, they had been to Goofy Goober's countless times and were used to the sugar crash that came from the frozen desserts.

Oh, but dear Neptune, did they overdo it this evening. It was to the point where Patrick had fallen down many times and landed flat on his face.

The winner of the contest was to receive a new keychain, which was a rather unexciting prize at best. SpongeBob had beaten all of them and won fair and square (no pun intended), and he was extremely happy to claim the prize. He had been in need of a new keychain for a while, after all.

While SpongeBob was very giddy to receive it, the fish-folk there had all groaned in annoyance because of his enthusiasm. It was just a lousy keychain! What did he have to be so thrilled about? Then again, he was always like that, so they needn't question his attitude, even when he was drunk.

And here the two were, strolling around the sandy landscape at night; both bored and tipsy as-all-get-out.

"Oof!" grunted Patrick as he fell on his face for the fiftieth time that night. SpongeBob came up behind him, one foot crossing the other as he made his steps. His vision was rather blurry, and his mind was foggy, but at least he wasn't "falling-down-drunk" like his pink friend. At least, not yet, he wasn't.

"Are you okay, Patrick?" asked SpongeBob, his tone of voice mellow.

Patrick struggled to bring himself to his feet, even as he grabbed onto the skinny arms of his best friend to help him up. "Who, me? Psh, I'm fine, SpongeBob. Don't be so- " before he could finish his sentence, he fell backward, creating a loud thud.

"Boy, that was some party, huh?" he asked, laying on his back.

SpongeBob dropped to his knees and crawled over to his friend, trying to help him back up. "Oh, yeah. It sure was, Patty ol' buddy! I mean, WHEW! That was some good vanilla swirl! I can't get the taste out of my mouth," he slurred, smacking his lips together.

While trying to lift his heavy friend back to his feet, the sponge looked up and noticed just where they had wandered off to. "Hey, look," he pointed. "It's Sandy's house, dahaha! I wonder what she's up to tonight."

The two shakily stood up, holding onto each other. Patrick shook his head, attempting to clear his vision. "Who knows? Maybe she's busy messing around with her latest and greatest science-y thingy…"

SpongeBob nodded in response. As cross-eyed as he was, he still couldn't find it within himself to look away from that Treedome. His disoriented mind managed to only focus on one thing, and that was how much he wanted to go over there, sweep her off her feet and tell her how much he adored her.

SpongeBob wiped his mouth that was stained with vanilla ice cream and smeared it on his disheveled clothing. "Y-Yeah… you're probably right. She's always busy workin' on her 'science-y' stuff." He smiled sweetly to himself. "She's so smart and…" he hiccupped. "so nice and so pretty. Why does she gotta be so pretty, Pat? Doesn't she know how much it makes me wanna throw up?"

Patrick scoffed and shrugged, rolling his eyes. "Well, h-how should I know? I'm not an expert in pretty squirrels, you know?"

"Y-Yeah, I know. Frankly, neither am I, hahaha."

"Well, if she makes you wanna throw up so badly, why don't ya go and tell her?" asked Patrick, pushing the sponge away from him.

SpongeBob looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "W-What?"

"You heard me, mister." He began shoving him. "You should go over there and tell her to stop being so pretty so that you stop feeling all pukey on the inside. It's only fair."

SpongeBob skidded on his feet and turned around to look at his best friend. "D-D-Don't be silly, Patrick. I'm…" he belched. "not about to go in there and tell her anything, no matter how lovely she is. Besides, she's probably busy with her chemicals and whatnot. She doesn't wanna be bothered," he wobbled from side to side.

Patrick crossed his arms over his chest. "Ohhh, I see."

"See what?" asked SpongeBob, becoming annoyed.

"You're just too much of a big scaredy-cat to go in there."

"Am not!"

"Are too… squirrel-lover."

SpongeBob gasped and released another hiccup. "I am not a squirrel-lover. Sandy just makes my heart pound so hard that it wants to explode out of my chest every day, that's all. And I am also not a scaredy-cat." Being so wasted made him completely unaware of just how unconvincing he sounded.

Patrick looked at him like a taunting school bully. "Well, then in that case, go over there to that air-dome and prove how much you don't like her, squirrel-loving-denier!"

SpongeBob raised a sharp brow and held his arms at his sides like he was in the ocean army. "Alright! I will! Just… watch me." He turned away from Patrick and headed into the direction of the brightly lit dome.

Psh, squirrel lover. I'll show that starfish who's a "squirrel lover" – certainly not this sponge! What's there to love? Nothing but her beautiful eyes and gorgeous smile, and her big Texas-shaped heart and her charming personality. Pfft, yeah, right. Nothing to love, at all.

The starfish stood alone and waved off his disappearing friend. "I'll be waiting right here, squirrel-loving-pants!" he then felt and heard his stomach grumble loudly, making him reconsider his decision.

"Uhh… on second thought, I'm gonna go on home and eat those leftover tacos in your fridge. Let me know how it goes." He then yawned and took a step forward, only to fall on his face a moment later.

SpongeBob marched his way to the steel front door of the dome, determined to prove his friend wrong. Once reaching it, he lifted his fist to pound on it but quickly found it to be an exhausting task. He leaned his head against the door, taking in a deep breath. Come on, you yellow weenie. Pound on this door till it falls clean off! You wanna prove that pointy-headed star wrong, don't ya? Yeah, that's what I thought.

With confidence, he raised his fist once more and banged it against the door five times. The squirrel inside was tucked away in her treehouse and could hear the disturbance as clear as day. After a few "what in tarnation" curses, she decided to investigate.

A few seconds later, the sponge heard the sound of squeaking steel. Oh, here she comes! Now, let her have it! Tell her how much she doesn't make you wanna shower her with kisses!

Not knowing what to expect, Sandy flung the door open to reveal an unkempt sponge; drops of vanilla ice cream staining his once clean and fresh clothes. Her eyes traveled up his chest and met the darkness of his five o'clock shadow surrounding his mouth area. Finally, she was most taken aback by the sight of his droopy and tired eyelids hanging over his bloodshot eyes. He was a complete mess.

What in the name of Houston am I lookin' at? She wondered.

"Uh… well, hey there, SpongeBob! What brings you here this evenin'?" she asked, trying her best to be friendly.

The first thing out of his mouth was the loudest, most obnoxious belch she had ever heard. It was a good thing her helmet was on at that moment, or else her eardrums would've bled.

Once he was through, he wafted his hand in front of his mouth to diffuse the stench. "Woo! Boy, I'm in serious need of some mouthwash. Or at least a breath mint," he slurred jokingly. His eyes then made their way to hers. Those brown orbs… the way they reminded him of pools of warm chocolate pudding made his insides tingle. As soon as his wave of vertigo stopped, he was helpless to the devious smirk that slowly appeared on his lips.

He leaned one hand against the doorframe, looking up at her with raised eyebrows that made it appear like he was cooking up some scheme inside his head. Just being in her presence was making him weak in the knees. This was not going as planned. However, despite the fact that she was yet again making his stomach fill with swarming jellyfish, he found that he had much better control of his nerves now that he was intoxicated.

Neptune, he could get used to this.

Sandy stood with her arms crossed over her chest, tapping her foot impatiently. "Well?"

SpongeBob bit his lip and chuckled. "Well, how-de-do, Miss Cheeks! You look mighty purdy tonight!" he blurted, his two buckteeth protruding more than usual.

What in tarnation?! Sandy was rightfully insulted by his lousy imitation of her accent. "That ain't a very good impression of a Texan, SpongeBob."

SpongeBob waved her off, cackling like his lungs were loaded with loose junk. "Dahaha! Right you are, San-day. I didn't come here to do impressions! You know what I came here for?"

Sandy raised a brow at him. "To show me that you're in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes?"

SpongeBob shook his head dizzily and leaned forward. "No! W-What gave you that idea?"

"I have eyes, SpongeBob."

He scoffed before smiling and walking his fingers up her helmet. "Oh, yes, you do, Sandy. And let me just say they are stunning, girlfriend."

Sandy squinted one eye at him and watched his hand travel up her helmet. She gently grabbed it and pushed it back toward his body. This was getting to be a bit creepy. "Well, uh, thanks… I guess. That's real nice of ya to say, but I'm afraid I don't understand- "

SpongeBob interrupted her, wiping the drool from his mouth. "Ha! You don't gotta try to understand NOTHIN' I say, Sandy-baby. You already understand… everything in the whole world…" he spread his hands through the air, making a grand gesture. "'Cause you're so dang smart!"

His slurred words, messy clothes, missing sock – these signs were all too familiar to Sandy. "You're drunk, aren't ya?"

SpongeBob rubbed the side of his head, looking at her confusedly. "Pardon? W-what was that?"

"I said you're drunk! If nothin' else, I can tell by the way you're talkin'. SpongeBob, you gotta stop hangin' out at the Goofy Goober's so dang much. It's poison for your brain."

"Pssh, please! I'll have you know I haven't been to Goofy Goober's in… " he looked down at his hand, using his fingers to count. "Two months!"

"Oh? Then how do ya explain all the white stains all over ya? Sure looks like ice cream to me."

He waved her off and looked to the side. "Well, Sandy, if you must know, I just so happened to be at Larry's beach party tonight with Patrick."

Sandy pursed her lips to the side. She knew that was probably the next logical explanation. "Larry, huh? He was havin' a party?"

He nodded. "Yep. He sure was, Sandy. And do ya know what? It was SO much fun," he said, raising his voice until it was high-pitched. "we played games, and ate snacks, and danced around in the sand till our socks were filled with it! Well, my socks anyway. Oh, and I won a keychain in the ice cream contest, see?" he quickly pulled out the silver chain and dangled it in front of her face while smiling hard. "Patrick was so jealous," he laughed smugly.

Sandy pushed his hand away, her expression showing her unamused feelings. "Uh-huh, I'll bet he was. But I'll also bet he's glad he ain't hangin' around you at the moment."

SpongeBob stepped forward, nearly pressing his nose against her helmet. "Just what are you insinuating, San-day? Hmm?" she was about to speak until he slapped a finger on the glass where her mouth would be. "Nuh-uh-uh! I know what you're trying to say. You're trying to say that Patrick isn't as sloppy of a drunk as I am, aren't you? Well, allow me to tell you that he was just as wobbly in the legs as I am right now, and he was mumbling more nonsense than I was after we left the party! What do ya gotta say to that?"

Sandy grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside. "I say it's time to sober you up so that you don't fall into a ditch on your way home." When they reached the inside of the dome, she handed him his water helmet.

SpongeBob stumbled on his feet while attempting to place the helmet over his head. "Oh, please. I can walk just fine, see? I'm not gonna fall into any ditch… whoa… WHOA!"

After taking off her own helmet, Sandy turned around and gasped to see that he was about to hit the grass. She quickly slipped an arm under his back to catch him and held onto his hand with her other hand. "Careful! Ya see what I mean? Jeez, I don't know how you can enjoy eatin' that ice cream to the point of stumblin' off your feet like that." She shook her head.

She looked back down at his face and saw his cheeks flushing with a big smile. "Oh, it's easy, Sandy." He wrapped his arms around her neck and curled his legs up, forcing her to hold him like a baby. "I can't resist it! It's ooey-gooey and so full of flavor! If you weren't such a stick-in-the-sand, you'd eat it until you're like me."

"That ain't on my list of priorities." She sighed and set him down on the ground. She then proceeded to walk toward the treehouse, only to be stopped once she noticed that he was still hanging around her neck. "SpongeBob, let go, please."

He giggled. "Aw, what's the matter? Are we afraid of a little hugsy-wugsy?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. I just ain't in the mood to babysit. Now GET. OFF." She pried him off her and grabbed onto his hand again, dragging him away.

"Where are we going?"

"To the treehouse. I'm gonna boil you up the most powerful thing I know of that'll drain that stuff right out of ya and make you as sober as a farmer brandin' a cow." She kept her eyes straight forward and did her best to smile. He was her friend and she was willing to do anything to help him, but he wasn't making it easy with how touchy-feely he was being. She had never seen him act this way before, and it was really getting on her nerves in more ways than one.

SpongeBob's eyes lit up. "Ooh! Are you cooking me up a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows?" he asked, his tone of voice filled with childlike innocence.

"No, I'm tryin' to sober you up, not make ya more drunk with more sugar." She grunted frustratingly.

He pouted. "Aw, darn it! That's no fun." He was still very much out of touch with himself, which left the door open for his messy thoughts to be centered around nothing other than the squirrel of his dreams. So far, he wasn't doing a very good job of proving Patrick wrong; he was only proving him right.

A few minutes later as SpongeBob leaned back lazily on Sandy's couch, flipping through the channels on her television, he blinked slowly and breathed shallowly. He looked up toward the kitchen, raising his voice. "What's takin' so long, Sandy? Where's my hot cocoa?"

Sandy rolled her eyes while swirling around a wooden spoon in the old, red pot sitting over a hot fire on her stove. "I told ya, it ain't hot chocolate, SpongeBob."

"Then what is it?" he asked, draping a heavy arm over his face.

In answer to his question, Sandy came and sat down next to him with a beige mug full of a mysterious, steaming concoction.

"It's a specially-formulated tea created for soberin' up even the drunkest of folks. It's been in my family for many years, and it ain't failed us once." She carefully handed him the hot beverage.

SpongeBob sat up and stared down at the pure-black liquid. He gently swayed back and forth as his vision went in and out of focus. "W-What's in it?"

She folded her arms over her chest and leaned back. "Just a special blend of the finest tea leaves dry land has to offer." She smiled, grabbing the remote and changing the channel.

SpongeBob looked at the beverage, then at her. A mischievous smile appeared on his yellow lips. "Oh, really? That's interesting, Sandy. Hey, I have an idea!"

She looked at him with a blank expression.

"Why don't we share it?" he smiled, holding it up to her face.

Sandy's eyes immediately bugged out of her head at his suggestion. "I-I'm sorry," she shook her head. "What did you just say?"

SpongeBob raised an eyebrow and scooted closer to her, lifting the cup until it touched her mouth. "Why don't we share it? It smells so good, Sandy. I can't not share it."

Sandy subtly shifted away from him, tilting her head back. She gently pushed his hand away and shook her head once more. "N-No, thanks, SpongeBob. I ain't the one in need of soberin' up." She crossed one leg over the over, even with the weight of him leaning against her. "Besides, why would ya wanna share your germs with me anyway? It ain't the smart or sanitary thing to do, you know?"

SpongeBob leaned in closer, smiling like a brat. "Oh, I know, Sandy. But don't worry, there aren't any germs in it as of right now. My lips haven't even touched the cup yet."

Something within his eyes told her that those lips of his had plans to touch something else besides the mug. Sandy had had enough of this weird behavior and yanked it from him. She pulled his helmet off and poured the tea into the water, then placed it back over his head. "Just drink it, SpongeBob."

The sponge sighed. "Well, I guess I have no choice now, do I?" he turned and tried to glare at her, but it only ended up looking like a twitch from a crazy person.

Twenty minutes later…

The sponge stumbled out of the bathroom and held onto the wall. Sandy turned around and looked at him, her arms crossed over her chest. "Well, feelin' sober yet?" she asked smugly.

SpongeBob belched once again and patted himself on the stomach. "No, but my bladder feels better now that it's empty."

The crooked and delirious smile on his face made Sandy facepalm and sigh. Why the barnacles didn't that drink work?! Perhaps it wasn't potent enough. "Ugh, this doesn't make ANY sense!" she rested her palms on her kitchen counter.

Suddenly, she felt two skinny arms wrap around her waist from behind. She looked up, noticing the sponge was no longer in the doorway.

"Oh, lots of things don't make sense, Sandy. Dahaha! In fact, nothing makes sense anymore!"

"You could say that again. What in tarnation are you doin', SpongeBob?!"

He pressed himself against her back and squeezed her tighter. "Aww, I just needed a little hug, Sandy-bear!"

She was surprised by how strong he was. He was practically crushing her rib cage with his arms!

Sandy peeled him away and turned around to face him, gripping his shoulders. "What has gotten into you, SpongeBob?!"

The sponge chuckled and looked up at her, tapping her nose with his unsteady finger while making a 'boop!" sound.

She sighed. Why am I askin' a drunk person that question?

An hour passed by, and the squirrel tried every single remedy in the book to cure the out-of-hand drunkenness that was currently plaguing her porous friend. She fed him more special drinks and dry, salty crackers, she tried playing karate with him to see if it would help to snap him back to reality, she had him bathe in a tub of ice-cold water, but absolutely nothing was working.

There was only so much one squirrel could do in a single night.

Sandy sat down underneath her tree and wiped her brow of the sweat that stained it. "Whew! Golly, I just give up! You must've really put it away tonight, SpongeBob. You're drunker than a frog hoppin' into a pile of mud!" she shook her head, completely out of ideas at this point.

SpongeBob plopped down on the grass next to her, out of breath. "That's okay, Sandy. Don't ya like me better like this anyway?" he looked up at her. "huh? Right?"

She looked back at him like he was out of his mind. "Heck no! I want my old buddy back, not this square little monster who's stumblin' around my treedome and makin' kissy faces at me!"

SpongeBob chuckled and leaned up against her, burying his helmet in her arm. "I don't see anything wrong with that, Sandy. I mean, can you really blame a guy for wanting to shower you with his affection? Hmm?" he bit his lip in a smile. "you really know how to drive someone crazy, Sandy." His speech pattern was just as jumbled as ever.

"I think you're drivin' yourself crazy!" she stood up, causing him to fall facedown. How could he think he had the right to say such things to her?

As much as she secretly liked this sort of attention from him, she knew better than to allow it to get to her.

While Sandy stood with her back to him, SpongeBob looked up and noticed the little radio sitting on the picnic table. A new and exciting thought entered his head.

Oh, this would get her to feel differently.

He stood up, trying to keep himself from falling. He walked over to the table and pressed a button on the radio, turning it on to the sound of static.

Sandy turned around and watched as he held his tongue out of the side of his mouth and twisted the dials, trying to find a station. "What are you doin' now, SpongeBob?" she asked, her voice becoming raspy like it did whenever she got angry.

"I'm just tryin' to…" he wobbled a bit. "find a good song to dance to, Sandy. Is that so wrong?"

"Not in of itself, but with the way that you are right now, anything can turn out wrong."

After ignoring her for around fifteen more seconds, he finally landed on an oldies station. The announcer spoke through the device, informing the listeners of the next old-fashioned song that was about to be played.

SpongeBob and Sandy stared at each other from a distance until a soft, romantic Hawaiian melody began to fill their ears.

SpongeBob smirked and straightened his tie. "Now then, this should be a fun little time for us."

Sandy gave him a stern look. "Alright, SquarePants. This has gone far enough. Now, would you just- "

Before she had any more time to protest, he grabbed her by the hand and stood in a closed position with her.

"SpongeBob, did you hear anything I said?"

"Hmm?" he asked as they started sloppily dancing around the room while the sweet music played.

"I said, this has gone far enough, SpongeBob! It's gettin' really late and you need to go home."

Though her tone made no room for arguments, SpongeBob disobeyed her anyway. "Oh, Sandy. Sandy, Sandy, Sandy, Sandy, Sandy," he repeated with an amused expression while shaking his head. "You just gotta learn to have some fun every now and then! Let loose! It'll make things way easier for ya."

She pushed him away, making him stop. "It would make things easier if you would just listen to me instead of draggin' me all over my home."

She was about to walk away when she felt herself getting pulled back in. This time, he held her close against him, resting his head on her shoulder. He then sighed dreamily and wrapped his arms around her in a hug while swaying side to side with her in a little dance.

For a moment, she almost wanted to return the warmth he was giving her, but she hesitated. "SpongeBob, this is getting ridiculous. Don't you have to work in the morning?"

SpongeBob shrugged with his eyes closed. "Oh, don't you worry, Sandy-baby. If I'm late, then I'm late. Old-man Krabs can stick it where the sun most certainly does not shine."

Sandy was appalled at his shameful words. Since when did he ever talk about his beloved boss that way?!

She tried pulling herself away again. "That ain't a very nice thing to say, SpongeBob! And I ain't your 'baby'."

SpongeBob looked up at her with his drooling mouth agape. "Ohh, maybe not. But nothing changes the fact that I'm your baby, Sandy. And soon, oh, I guarantee you'll wanna be my baby too," he giggled.

Sandy struggled to get away the more that they waltzed around the room. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, SpongeBob. That ain't gonna happen." She began to sweat.

"Oh, really? Is that what you think?"

"You're darn right it is!"

"Oo-kay, San-day. Then I guess there's only one thing left for me to do to change your tune…"

She cocked a brow and gave him a confused look before she gasped. Within a split second, he dipped her toward the floor like a suave gentleman from an old movie and leaned over her.

"SpongeBob… what- "

He proceeded to remove his helmet, causing the water inside of it to splash all over the place.

Her eyes widened. "SpongeBob! What in the name of chicken and turkey are you doin'?! You can't breathe without that, remember?"

"Oh, don't worry, Sandy. This should only take a minute or two."

A minute or two?!

She felt her heart begin to race as he looked down at her alluringly. In all the years she had known him, she had never seen that kind of daring expression on his little face; it was almost sultry in nature.

She studied his eyes and saw them glance down at her lips.

Was he really about to do what his look suggested?

"SpongeBob..." she clenched her teeth. "I'm warnin' you, don't- "

He interrupted her with a smirk.

Sandy shook her head rapidly. "Sp-Sponge- "

The next thing she knew, his lips were covering hers with a warm and steady kiss. Her breath hitched in her chest and she kept her eyes wide open, gazing at his closed eyes and furrowed brows. The look on his face told of how much he meant what he was doing and how long he had been holding it inside. He was, one could say, concentrating very hard.

Sandy lifted her hand to slap him in the face, but it froze for a few seconds once she started to fall under his spell. Soon, she found that she could not stop the shutting of her own eyelids, and she moved her hand from the air and gently pressed it against his chest, feeling the crusty stains on his shirt. This move felt out of her control.

The stubble from his five o'clock shadow brushed up against her cheeks, scratching her slightly while he buried his lips deeper into hers.

This all felt so strange coming from him. He was a child in some respects and a true man in others. And right now, the more childish side of him was nowhere to be seen. Goodness gracious, she didn't even know he had this in him. Who could've ever guessed?

She had no idea why she was allowing this to happen. Maybe she was just as out of her mind as he was.

She should've been karate chopping him until he fell apart, but instead, she was letting him squish those wet lips into hers like it was his job.

And why did it feel so strangely good now?!

After what felt like the longest kiss of the century, SpongeBob pulled away from her and stared into her eyes, breathing his hot breath over her face. A small, crooked smile appeared on his lips while his eyelids drooped, covering his orbs halfway. "Oh, yeah," he said, his voice lower than normal and oozing with satisfaction. "I've been waitin' a long time to do that, Miss Cheeks."

Sandy stared back at him with a confused and almost disturbed look on her face.

SpongeBob shifted his vision upward while licking his already moist lips, trying to figure out what it was that lingered on them. "You taste just like acorns, Sandy," he then said, his pupils dilating like the eyes of a kid in a candy store. "Tasty, yummy acorns," he spoke as if he was ready to pass out.

Sandy breathed heavily, trying to recover whatever oxygen she couldn't get through her nose during the kiss. And now she was worried he either might try to smother her pie hole again or faint on her.

She chose not to communicate to him that he left the strong taste of vanilla ice cream all over her own lips. It seemed none of the other food or drinks she had fed him could mask that sweet, distinct flavor.

Sandy shook her head. "Let me up now, SpongeBob. Please."

He stared blankly at her.

"Hello? Did you hear me-AH!"

Without warning, he quickly pulled her up, startling her. "Fine, Sandy," he waved her off, almost falling over. "Have it your way."

Sandy sighed and looked away from him, smacking a hand against her forehead in disbelief of what just happened.

She then looked back to see the sponge smiling deviously at her again. "Well," he said breathily, "what do ya think now, baby?"

Sandy wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, removing the slobber he left behind. "I think…" she breathed, "it's time to get your butt on home. You're startin' to look sick."

SpongeBob threw his head back and let out a little chuckle, holding onto his gut. "Oh, please, Sandy. I'm as strong and healthy as a…" he began to pour sweat, and his face turned green. "clam on a… hot summer's day…"

Sandy watched him slap a hand over his mouth and run over behind her tree.

She shut her eyes in disgust at hearing his retching and the spilling of his stomach contents.

I just trimmed and watered the grass back there, darn it!

~French Narrator~

"One walk to a dark pineapple later."

"Howdy, Gary," Sandy quietly greeted the snail as she stepped into the mostly darkened living room.

The snail looked away from the flashing television and glanced up at her. "Meow? (Hi, Sandy. What are you doing here?)"

"Can't talk right now, gotta get this critter to bed before he kisses somethin' else."

Gary jumped in surprise at her words. What in the world was she talking about?

"Hey, Gary," the voice of his owner sounded. "Ahaha! I love that show!" SpongeBob said in a high-pitched tone, pointing at the program on the television.

Gary squinted and was able to make out that the sponge was draped over the squirrel's shoulder, his arms dangling over her back. The snail blinked a couple of times before looking back to the scene in front of him.

"Meow (I'm just gonna pretend I didn't see that.)"

Minutes later, Sandy flipped on the switch in SpongeBob's bedroom and carried him over to the twin-sized mattress with the purple blanket placed neatly over it.

"Alrighty, down ya go," she said, lifting his lightweight body off her shoulder and setting him down to sit on the bed.

SpongeBob wiped his mouth and shook his head, unable to focus his eyes on anything. "Thank you, Sandy," he replied in a mellow voice. His arms and legs felt very cold, and he began to shiver.

Sandy looked at him sympathetically and knew she couldn't just leave him like this. That blanket of his looked quite thin.

Even though she now felt very awkward around him since they had shared such a special, personal moment in the treedome, she still wanted to be a good friend and make sure that he was safe in his own house, inside his own little world.

It was difficult to focus, though, since every time she licked her lips, all she could taste was vanilla.

Sandy searched through his room until she found a pair of his light green pajamas that he usually wore to sleep. She came over to him, carrying the folded-up clothing and setting it down next to him. "Alright, it's time to get in your jammies, little critter."

He slowly looked up at her, his eyelids drooping. "Can you help me put them on, Sandy?"

Sandy was taken aback. "Uh…" she rubbed her arm. "Sure… I-I guess."

She watched the sponge grab onto his belt, attempting to unbuckle it. She quickly jumped forward and grabbed his hands, shaking her head. "N-No, you don't need to do that."

He looked up at her innocently, not realizing what he was about to do before she stopped him. He then nodded and they worked together to cover up what he already had on. Once they finished, she checked him over and straightened out any wrinkled material on the pajamas.

SpongeBob still sat on the edge of the bed, staring dreamily at her face.

She looked up at him with a raised brow. "What is it, SpongeBob?"

A few seconds passed before he leaned forward and hugged her. Her arms hung limp at her sides, unsure if she should hug him back.

The way he was holding her so tightly made her heart flutter, and there was nothing she could do to ignore it.

He pulled back and smiled at her. "Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

Sandy's eyes shifted around the room in thought. "Well… uh, that depends. What kind of story do ya want to hear?"

SpongeBob stared up at the ceiling, placing a hand against his cheek as he thought deeply and giddily about her question. "Hmmm… how about… the story of the sponge who kissed the pretty squirrel goodnight? It's my favorite story," he giggled shyly, playfully petting her on the shoulder.

Sandy was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth to say something, then looked at the floor for a moment. "Actually, I don't think ya need to hear a bedtime story right now, SpongeBob. I think ya need to get some sleep. Now, lie down-What?! SpongeBob!"

She watched in frustration as he pressed his lips against her helmet, smearing it with a wet kiss. She peeled him away and laid him down on the bed, covering him with the blanket.

SpongeBob yawned and smiled sleepily at her. "Don't forget to tuck me in, Sandy."

The squirrel rolled her eyes and did as he asked. "There, now you're all settled. Is there anything else?"

He shook his head, his eyes slowly shutting. "No, I think that'll do, Sandy. Goodnight." He shifted his weight onto his side, causing more drool to spill out of his mouth.

Sandy stared down at him for a moment. She felt the urge to caress his cheek but restrained herself. This night was insane enough; she didn't need to add insult to injury.

She sighed. Why do ya have to be so darn difficult and adorable at the same time? That's a deadly combination in my book. And now you've got me thinkin' crazier than a horse when it's kickin' people in the gut with its hind legs.

"Alrighty then. Goodnight, SpongeBob."

He smiled in response; his eyes now fully shut.

Sandy slowly backed out of the room and hit the light switch, taking one last look at him before closing the door. She then made her way down the stairs and passed Gary in the living room for the second time.

"Meow? (What happened tonight?)"

Sandy looked at him as she stood at the exit. "Do ya really wanna know?"

Gary thought about it for a moment before shaking his eyestalks.

Sandy nodded. "Are ya hungry? If you are, I can fetch ya somethin' from the kitchen."

Gary shook his eyestalks again. "Meow (Nah, I'm good. I already had my dinner.)"

Sandy was curious as to how he managed to do that without SpongeBob's help. She looked up toward the wall and noticed that half the couch was missing. Well, that figured.

She sighed and waved at him. "Well, goodnight, Gary. It was nice seein' ya."

"Meow (Goodnight.)" The snail watched her shut the door behind her, leaving him to sit in front of the television with millions of infomercials on at this late hour.

Outside, Sandy stood in the darkness and stared up at the evening stars. To think that a pleasant night of just sitting around and studying her science books had turned into this big, awkward ball of mischief was really a lot for her to take in.

As she walked home that night, she kept one hand inside of her suit and continuously brushed her fingers over her lips, remembering the feeling and taste of SpongeBob's kiss.

Darn that vanilla ice cream.

A/N: To be continued...