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Little did Wesley know that he was not the only one who had to suffer a drunk woman this evening. Hartwell himself was having quite a headache because of his drunken wife. In fact, he was in a double whammy since his day had been long and tiring at the office and now, Joslyn was drunk beyond the bounds of consciousness. When he received Wesley's message, he had just managed to coax Joslyn into falling asleep.

In no mood for a long discussion, he simply wrote, "Take good care of her."

"Sure."

Wesley pounced on the sofa, waiting for Blair to come out. Half an hour later, when he still didn't hear any sound from within her room, his face changed shade slightly. He walked over and knocked on the door again. Still no response.

He could feel that something was not right. 'It usually takes her forty minutes to bathe and a couple more than ten minutes to dry her hair. But she has been in the bathroom for almost seventy minutes now. Even for a drunk girl, that is too long.' He unlocked the door, and saw that she was not in the bedroom. What was worse, there was no sound coming from the bathroom. No running water, no nothing! Just an eerie silence.

He knocked on the bathroom door. "Blair?"

He called out her name several times, but she didn't make a sound. Finally getting too anxious to handle the pressure, Wesley pushed the door open and barged in.

It was both relieving and infuriating to see the woman inside, sound asleep with her head leaning against the bathtub. Her face was even redder than before because of the warm water, and she looked like she had been in that position for a long time now. Wesley immediately looked away when he saw her naked body. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down and called out with his face looking the other way, "Blair...Blair..."

She still did not make any response, so he had to go up and pat her face softly. Blair moved slightly, and the next moment, she slid down into the huge bathtub.

Luckily, before she could drown, Wesley pulled her out like a flash of lightning. He then grabbed a towel from the stand on the other side of the bathroom and wrapped it around her.

Only then did she wake up, most probably due to the sudden splash of water. In her sleepy and hazy state, she saw Wesley. She pulled out her arms from inside the towel and held him tightly

She turned over on her stomach, making her curves on the back even more significant, and looked at him with a smile. "Some of my clothes must be washed by hands. Colonel Li, I've washed your clothes twice. Will you please help me wash mine today?"

Wesley's face twitched at her words. Wash her clothes by hands?

It was not that he didn't know how to do so. As a soldier, he almost always had to wash his clothes by himself. But Blair's underwear?

It was almost as if he were holding a hot potato; he didn't know whether he should just throw the darned clothes away or act like a bomb was in his hands.

Blair clearly saw Wesley's tanned face become red bit by bit. When he didn't respond, she rolled on the bed once more and murmured, "Ah, my head is killing me now. Colonel Li, please just do me this tiny favor. Please."

Wesley gave in once again, and under her watchful eyes, he walked out of the room. He put her outer clothes into the washing machine, added some laundry detergent and pressed the "start" button. Then, with her bra and panties in his hand, he walked back to her bathroom again without uttering a single word. Already a silent man, he looked even more taciturn now.

When she heard the running water in the bathroom, she smiled smugly and thought to herself, 'Humph!

It seems like he will do whatever I say when I'm drunk. This is a good opportunity. I should do this more often. I believe he'll surrender to me one day.'

The sound of the running water coming from within the bathroom stopped pretty soon, but Blair was in no mood to let him off so easily. She raised her voice and reminded him, "Wesley, women's panties need to be washed a little longer. Otherwise, we get sick."

Wesley didn't respond.

He really wanted to grab a gun and take as many pot shots at the clothes as possible.

Nevertheless, he turned on the tap once again. This time, he stayed in the bathroom for so long that Blair began to feel sleepy.