Backdated - Dec 12, 2016
Godmodding of Rob has been okayed by tatterpixie as well

Aitana might have been fishing, just a little tiny bit, when she mentioned to Rob that her coworkers had said that there was some special in the US about 21st birthdays.

She wasn't the sort that normally cared that much about birthdays, but when the topic had come up in a round about way at work - that people often made a big to-do about drinking on their 21st Aitana's mind had shifted to her and Rob's first get together at his favorite bar. Their time as of late had been limited mostly to patrols, her plate full of work and his full of home drama, so the thought of another drinking outing sounded wonderful.

So she'd sent him a text, feigning ignorance of the 'importance' of going drinking on your 21st birthday, and Rob had bit.

Her birthday fell on a Saturday, which was beyond perfect given that she didn't work most Sundays. But nonetheless they still didn't start until a little later in the day, just after the sun had sunk under the city horizon, meeting up outside the familiar bar. And without much ado, her arm locked playfully in his, they proceeded inward, with Rob buying her her very first legal (in the United States, silly late blooming country) beer.

And then came the shots.

With Rob as a common companion Aitana's alcohol tolerance had been slowly rising over the past few months. But even that rising tolerance couldn't handle the mixture of different cocktails and the sheer volume of birthday drinks the bar patrons kept sending her way once they knew. It was a flood of liquor and in no time at all the Brazilian was giggly and boisterous.

There were games of pool, that got slightly more sloppy as the night went on. A game of darts that had quickly been called on the grounds of public safety. A couple dances, that leaned on the side of too handsy the more she drank. But finally, mostly because her legs and balance were beginning to betray her, she'd settled into a table alongside two men arm wrestling and enthusiastically challenged them - which had then devolved into a loud game of her challenging everyone with shots on the line. It may or may have not been apparent that a few of the burlier men were letting her win just to get her more drunk.

He'd been watching her, not like a babysitter by any means, himself enjoying plenty of liquor and bar tomfoolery. But he'd kept a protective eye on just how drunk she was getting - and had probably let it go a little further than he usually would have given the special occasion and the fact that she seemed to be enjoying herself.

It wasn't until another guy, also pretty drunk, announced fairly loudly that he wanted to bet "shirts, not shots" and Aitana agreed with a snort that her companion went about quickly paying off his tab for the night and joined her watching as Aitana managed to just barely beat the guy before pumping her fists upward in a show of bravado. As the guy grumbled and yanked his shirt up and off over his head another drew near, but Rob beat him to the punch. "My turn love."

Aitana grinned as Rob settled into the chair across from her, her fingers wiggling playfully as she awaited his hand. "And what are we betting?"

"Me taking you home." He'd meant it innocently enough. Taking her home so that she could sleep off what was sure to be one hell of a bad morning and hangover. But a soft hush fell over a few of the patrons that hadn't realized they'd come together and Aitana, in her intoxicated state, had taken inuendo and ran with it. It was a bet she didn't mind losing, as could be seen by a couple of the dances they'd had earlier. But then, she'd never been much for the actual prospect of losing.

Her fingers gripped his hand, thumb locked carefully under his and when the countdown ended she gave it her all. Had it been a competition with the legs she would have trounced him. But when it came to arm strength the two were a little closer - he probably even had the upper hand on her. But especially while drunk, and after her 15th or so bought it didn't take too much effort for Rob to push her tanned arm down to the table. And though her tongue extended momentarily in response to the loss, her expression quickly improved grinning widely as she pushed herself up and quickly almost tumbled the hell over. Luckily Rob was there, and as an arm wrapped around her waist for balance she leaned a good portion of her weight against him. Even before they had reached the door to leave her arm had come to rest around his neck for extra support.

It hadn't taken more than a block of her stumbling, especially because she kept trying to lean and whisper dirty things in his ear and almost kept tripping herself, for him to give up. And as Puck replaced Rob, sweeping the wobbly Brazilian into his arms to carry her she could only snicker, her second arm joining the first around his neck. It was a fairly slow walk, him not able to travel as fast as he might have hoped because of all the jostling and moving that kept occurring in his arms as she chattered on in a drunken stupor, often slipping halfway in and out of English and Portuguese. But finally as they drew within the last couple of blocks she began to settle down and tucker out, her head coming to rest against his jaw. She was asleep well before he made it to her apartment, but not before uttering one final affection. "Rob...Eu adoro você."