Intoxication

“Ya know, I love you guys. I really, really, really, really do,” Tigerseye announced -- or more correctly slurred -- one evening as the Amazon Trio sat at their usual bar, drunker than usual after a particularly embarrassing failure at the hands of the Sailor Senshi.

To his right, Hawkseye, who was probably the most sober of the threesome, cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me Fisheye’s managed to convince you to bat for the other team, Tigerseye.”

“Hey, don’t blame me. It doesn't work like that. Maybe he’s just tired of hiding his true self,” Fisheye said, draping an arm around Tigerseye’s shoulders. A positively seductive smile crossed his lips, which were painted a dark blood red that perfectly matched the liquid in his half-drunk wine glass. “I must admit I always thought that ’God’s Gift to Women’ attitude of yours was just an act. Face it, you‘re no George Clooney, Tigerseye. It’s time to embrace the real you. I salute you! Cheers!”

It took a minute before Tigerseye’s alcohol-impaired mind fully comprehended what exactly his partners were saying, but the moment he saw Fisheye’s freaky red lips coming toward him, puckered in a dead-on impersonation of a fish, Tigerseye started waving his hands in front of him, leaned back on his stool, and immediately toppled over with a loud scream.

“Tigerseye!”

“Tigerseye!”

The other two were quick to come to his aid, but fortunately, Tigerseye managed to come through the fall injury-free. As Hawkseye helped him back up, he glared at the blue-haired man. “What the hell did you think you were doing, Fisheye? Were you trying to give me a heart attack? Don't surprise me like that!”

“But I thought you loved me!” he cried, dramatically bringing his hands to his heart.

Tigerseye rolled his eyes. “Not like that, you idiot!”

“Then what exactly did you mean, Tigerseye?” Hawkseye asked, taking back his seat and signaling for another martini.

Tigerseye shrugged, not exactly sure what had made him say what he did. He blamed the alcohol. “Just forget about it,” he said after taking another swig of beer. “I’m just talking crazy.”

“Or maybe underneath that vain, self-centered exterior of yours, you actually do have a heart.”

“Yeah, right.”

Despite his protests otherwise, Fisheye and Hawkseye grinned, bursting into a rousing chorus of “Tiger is a softie, Tiger is a softie!”

“I am not!”

“Whatever you say, softie,” Fisheye crooned.

"Aw, shuddap."

DISCLAIMER: Sailor Moon is the property of Naoko Takeuchi.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Any comments or criticisms can be sent to me at ElysionDream@aol.com. Written for the “Secret Santa” event at the “sailormoonland” community at Livejournal.