I should probably just head home.

"Can I go to your place, then?" Ronnie's eyes flash mischeviously.

You begin to turn her down when she grips your hand.

"We don't have to do anything. We can just talk." There's a familiar line.. You shake your head for a moment.

"Sure. You feel like driving?"

You and Ronnie make it into your apartment. Ronnie plops down on the couch. "Can I get you something to drink?" you ask. She pops her head over the back of the couch.

"White Russian." You smile as you mix her drink. "You've got a pretty nice place, here." This begins a two hour conversation, after which, Ronnie has had five or six cocktails, and has gotten completely trashed. You sigh as you help her up.

"You can have the bed," you tell her, leading her into the bedroom. You go back out to the living room to get her things, and when you come back, Ronnie is standing there in her bra and panties.

"Sorry," you say, turning away. You feel Ronnie's hands on your back as she comes up behind you.

"I wasn't joking earlier when I invited you to my place. You're the first guy I've met that hasn't propositioned me. Besides. I'm really drunk, and your chances of scoring will probably never be better."