A/N: I don't own She's the Man nor the characters within. Well, here's a story I just rediscovered on my hard drive. I'm sure I had plans for it, but I sadly cannot remember what those were anymore.

Viola couldn't understand how out of control things had become. Dress up as her brother, go to Illyria, join the soccer team, cream Cornwall. Simple, right?

No.

Simple like crap. Living as a boy, one who's apparently just sensitive enough, cute enough, writes lyrics that speak to girls enough, Viola-as-Sebastian had run into a problem she really hadn't seen coming.

At a party one of her classmates had thrown at his house – parents out of town, key to liquor cabinet, long weekend, booyah! – Viola had gone only to show her face, staying away from drinking too much. She didn't want anything to threaten her secret.

Of course, nobody told Duke and the others that she hadn't wanted to drink. And when she was handed something she thought was a mixed drink, how the hell was she supposed to know it was some high-class liquor that had a higher alcohol content than its taste warranted? Dude, did Andrew have some killer contacts.

But that's beside the point. Okay, so, gaining a pretty hefty buzz after one drink and easily plied with another, it hadn't taken Olivia too much wheedling to get her to join the game of Spin the Bottle/Seven Minutes in Heaven cross game they were playing (okay, Duke's puppy dog eyes hadn't hurt, either). Rules were simple: spin the bottle, grab the person it landed on no matter the gender, and disappear into the hall closet for seven minutes, the people left behind playing normal Spin the Bottle while they waited. The 'no matter what gender' had raised Viola's eyebrows, but no one had really seemed to care – there was nothing saying you had to make out while in the closet, and later she suspected a lot of sports had been discussed in the dark.

Okay, again, off topic. Okay. So, getting drunker and drunker, right at the threshold where she knew she was drunk and didn't care how she'd gotten there anymore, she knew she'd still remember everything in the morning, she knew enough to still keep her disguise, and having kissed Eunice – twice, oh god – and not joined the ranks of closet adventures yet, it was finally her time to spin. And, with an upset cry from Duke and numerous slaps on the back, a glowing blush and sparkling eyes on Olivia's face, Sebastian and Olivia stumbled into the closet. Maria had made some suggestive comment as she closed the door, but Viola hadn't caught it. Her whole attention and slightly cross-eyed gaze had been centered on the pretty blonde standing in close vicinity to her body.

They had stood there stupidly for a couple of seconds, Viola finally realizing she had no idea what the hell she was doing in the closet with Olivia. In the dim light she had seen Olivia open her mouth, licking her lips nervously as she probably searched for the words she wanted to say. But it was useless. Not knowing, exactly, how it had happened, she and Olivia were suddenly kissing. Olivia had also been partaking from the fancy liquor, and Viola remembered tasting it on her tongue.

But, uh… Things got kinda… Frantic after that.

It really shouldn't have worked, and they really should have been caught. But they weren't, probably using up all of the luck Viola had stocked for the next thirty-fricken'-years in the process. Of course, Viola realized after that perhaps Olivia was one of those really, really, really horny drunks.

…Or, you know, Viola was just that good.

However it happened, a minute before they were scheduled to get out, Olivia was coming down from a violent orgasm, fingers painfully gripping Viola's shirt at her shoulder, keeping her kneeling between her thighs. As the blonde's grip loosened, Viola rose, her hands coming up to steady Olivia's shaking body, holding her waist securely.

Panting for air, Olivia had groaned and dropped her forehead to rest against Viola's collarbone. "I… I need to get dressed," she murmured, laughing slightly, "But I can't move."

"I got ya." Slightly clumsy, due to the alcohol still coursing through her body, Viola helpfully slid her jeans and underwear back up, letting the blonde take over the task of buttoning and zipping.

Once that was done, Olivia had leaned up and kissed her softly. "Sebastian, I…" But she was caught off by the door opening, raucous laughter suddenly filling the space.

And that's when reality had all come rushing back, sobering Viola in an instant.

Like a total coward, she had turned and run: out of the closet, out of the party, out of the neighborhood, wandering around until Paul managed to find her from the drunken rambling addresses she supplied him over the phone. She hadn't said one word to Olivia or Duke or Tony, who had caught her arm as she ran past him, shaking her head and yanking herself away – and she felt horrible for doing so, but, you know what? That really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

Because... You know... Had she really… Well… Erm… Oh god. Gone down on Olivia?