Quick oneshot written in the time that would have been better spent packing. Oh well. Getting excited for college with a bit of Victorian alcoholism. Enjoy!

"I call this meeting of the Order to…order!" Felicity brandishes the whiskey bottle as a scepter.

"Fee, you're so dramatic!" I cannot help but laugh at her silliness. It fills me to bursting, so that I feel I can drift away on this mirth.

"Come now, don't you feel the urge to sing an anthem of some sort?"

"What sort of anthem?" Ann asks. She has not had as much to drink. Felicity and I are gradually seeking to right the situation.

"What sort of anthem?" Felicity echoes, struggling to stand up. "Ally oop!" She grabs hold of my shoulder and hoists herself up.

"Ow!" I protest instinctively. It did not actually hurt. In fact, I bet I could fall down a flight of stairs and not feel a thing. Not that I'd try or anything.

"Come on, girls, let's have us a little singing …thing, shall we?"

"Singing thing?"

"Yes Ann, a singing thing."

"Drink up, darling," I coo, holding to bottle to her lips.

"Girls, let us hold hands and sing for mankind." Felicity's face is solemn.

I scramble to my feet. Apparently this was too much of a change for my balance. I topple forward onto the grass.

"Gemma, you are the very picture of grace," Felicity says as I manage to stand.

"Why thank you," I reply with a ridiculous half-curtsy.

"What shall we sing?" Ann asks.

"Pick a tune!" Felicity's voice echoes into the trees. The forest is close. So are the gypsies. So is Kartik. A warm tingle rushes throughout my body. It makes me bold.

"I know a Christmas carol!" I say loudly.

"But it's almost Easter."

"Fine, Annie, then I know an Easter carol."

"But there's no such thing…"

"Quiet Ann!" At Felicity's harsh tone, Ann falls silent. "Gemma, sing your Christmas carol," Felicity says, all sugar and smiles again.

I've not prepared a song to sing. Normally I'd never sing in public anyway, but whiskey is a wonderful counter for stage fright. I open my mouth and make it up as I go along.

"Hark! The herald…gorgon sings, glory to the new-born…me!"

Ann and Felicity join in.

"Peace on earth and mercy mild…"

"No Ann, we should say Circe."

"Oh Circe, that's clever!"

"Oh course it is."

"Peace on earth and Circe mild…"

"But Circe isn't mild," I point out.

Felicity's face falls. "Oh dear, you're right. She's not. What else rhymes with 'mild'?"

"Child?" Ann suggest.

"Circe child?" Felicity scoffs.

"It was just a thought!"

"Oh!" I say excitedly. "Circe wild!"

"Brilliant Gemma! Circe is quite wild. Though not in a good way, I might add."

"Quite right."

"What is the next line, Ann?" Felicity takes another swig of whiskey. It finds its way to me. I drink from the bottle, the liquor no longer rousing my gag reflex.

"God and sinners reconciled," Ann recites clearly. She still has a fair amount of sobriety in her, I fear.

"What rhymes with that?" Felicity asks, falling onto her back. She curls her fingers around the new blades of grass growing on the lawn.

I burst out laughing. My friends look at me as if I'm insane. "Cod and finners!" I gasp, thinking of the fish we had earlier at dinner.

"That's absolutely stupid, Gemma," Ann whines.

"What else rhymes then?" I snap.

"Oh hush, both of you." Felicity rises to her feet again. "Join hands. We have our anthem."

"Hark! The herald gorgon sings, glory to the new-born me; Peace on earth and Circe wild, cod and finners reconciled!"

"Let us pray," I say somberly after Ann stops singing the last few syllables as angelically as possible.

"Gemma!" Ann says, clearly in shock. "You mustn't mock…" She trails off, obviously without anything in mind to fight.

We fall silent, resting against the cool grass. The moon is but a wicked smile, laughing at our behavior. The even crescent becomes the teeth, then lips, cheeks, eyes, face of Kartik. What shall I do about him? Rather, what shall I do about me? The idea of visiting him actually makes sense in my present state of drunkenness.

Ann's snores break the silence.

"Ann, are you sleeping?" I ask thickly. "Felicity?"

"Yes'm," Felicity mumbles. Her eyes are closed.

"Why are you sleeping? We're outside and ladies don't sleep outside," I protest, knowing full well that ladies don't drink too much whiskey and butcher songs about our Lord.

Neither of my friends answer. I am the only one awake. "Oh dear," I say to myself. "This is not particularly a good thing, I think."

I am sitting up now. My body feels so heavy that I cannot imagine moving from this spot. To stand up would be torture, to lay down, a shame, considering the effort it took me to sit up. Was it a large effort? I find I cannot remember even committing the action.

A tree by the lake waves at me invitingly. I run to it, or rather, I float to it, such is the weightlessness I feel. Now comes the challenge of stopping. I outstretch my arms and grip at the trunk, falling against it, the rough bark scraping at my face and neck.

"Hee!" I squeak, turning to rest my back against the tree. The lake is black, reflecting only a bit of cosmic light. It's quite lovely, really. A dreamy smile crosses my face. It is possibly the most beautiful thing to ever grace my visage.

"Gemma?"

"Uh."

"What the devil are you doing?" It is Kartik. He looks as if he just woke up. I am glad to see him.

"Kartik!" I whisper excitedly. I prance over to him and wrap my arms around his midriff.

"It's two in the morning, Gemma!"

"So that's why it's so dark!"

"Are you drunk?" He sounds amused, or annoyed. Or both.

I pull away from him with a smile that threatens to tear my face in half. I try, unsuccessfully, to cover it with my fingers.

"You are drunk!" he says incredulously.

I giggle shrilly in response. This is going quite well, I think.

"You're not out alone, are you?"

"No! I have friends."

"Friends," he repeats.

"Yes. Quite so."

"What?"

"I'm not entirely sure," I say, trying my best to sound sober. My vocabulary impresses me. I take it one step further. "They are reclining peashfully in the meadow."

Kartik shakes his head. "What meadow?"

"Or the lawn. Whatever you'd like to call it." Honestly, to think I could follow things better than him even in this present state. I feel for him.

I sway on the spot attractively, the dreamy smile crossing my face again. Kartik grips me by the shoulder to steady me. "Gemma," he says slowly. I nod my head. "I think it would be best if you and your friends returned to the school."

I stare blankly. "But they're sleeping."

"And?"

"I cannot carry them!"

"So then wake them up!"

"Kartik," I say matter-of-factly. "That is simply not an option."

His eyes widen in disbelief. I find him incredibly irresistible at the moment. I consider telling him this, but I realize it is inappropriate.

"Well you cannot sleep outside."

"Why not?" I challenge.

"You'll catch your death; you're not even fully dressed." He looks uncomfortable as he says this.

"Oh?" I look down at my body to realize I am only wearing my undergarments and a half-fastened corset. I cannot begin to imagine when I decided to take my clothes off. "Oh dear. When did this happen?"

Kartik sighs heavily and removes his black traveling cloak. He places it over my shoulders and, for a moment, his arms are around me. My cheeks flush hotly.

I pull the cloak tightly about me. It smells like heaven, just like him.

"I have to insist you go back to the school," he says firmly.

"B-but," I stammer. He looks at me expectantly. "I want to stay with you. I mean! Just to talk," I whisper.

I don't know how much time passed before he spoke again, but I saw his cheeks redden slightly. I never knew I could be so charming!

"Right then," he says, clearing his throat. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Your call," I say. I settle myself against the tree, wrapped up in his cloak like a sausage. He sits next to me.

"Why are you drunk?" he asks pointedly.

"Because we drank whiskey." It is honest.

"But why?"

I shrug, an effort in his heavy cloak. "Because that's what whiskey does. It makes you drunk."

Kartik laughs. "That it does. What I mean is why did you drink whiskey?"

"Bit of girlish fun," I quip. He glances at me strangely. "Oh alright, we were having a meeting of the Order."

"You went to the realms like this?"

"No…"

"Then what did this meeting entail?"

"We made up an anthem."

"Of course you did."

"Yes."

He shifts his legs. I watch with interest as he rests his palm on his thigh. I wish I could place my hand there, feel the heat of his body, the strength of his muscles…

"Gemma…"

"Yes?" I am still staring intently at his thigh, eager to see him move it again.

"What are you staring at?"

Slowly, I raise my eyes to his. I smile guiltily. He frowns.

"Your fingernails are dirty," I lie.

"Are they?" He studies them and shrugs. "Not too bad."

My dreamy smile is back. I should very much like to lean against him. I do just that.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm cold," I say.

"I see."

"You're warm." I nuzzle into him. He stiffens considerably.

"Gemma." His voice is a warning.

"Yes?"

"You're drunk."

"Isn't it lovely?"

"Don't do anything you might regret."

"Now why would I do that?" I catch his eye and smile my dreamy smile. The faint light glows in his eyes, shines on his hair. The world is wonderful. "You're beautiful," I murmur.

He is taken aback. A hint of a smile plays on his lips. I look at them, then back to his eyes. There is a playful look about him. "And what would that make you? Handsome?"

"Perhaps," I muse. "That is something to think about."

He laughs softly again. "Gemma," he groans, ruffling his hair with his hand. "What am I going to do with you?"

I know what I'd like him to do with me, but that is just one of the secrets of my dreamy smile. I smile at him knowingly. I know he understands.

"You're drunk," he repeats.

"Unfortunately."

His dark eyes flit over my features longingly. He shakes his head slowly. I suddenly realize that nothing will change tonight. I don't know what I expected, but I am grateful for this knowledge.

"So tell me about your anthem," he says.

"What anthem?"

I confess that Gemma's behavior is nearly completely based on my own. I "float" and smile dreamily. And I get too touchy-feely with the males. And lose the ability to spell. But I digress.

College tomorrow morning. No clothes packed. Leave me reviews and make me happy!

School? What's that?,
LunaEquus

(This is Kartik, with an important message regarding underage drinking. It is bad. Don't do it. Period.)