LbN: Written for Faberry week, day three: Drunk. Xposted to .com. :)

Rachel groaned and rolled out of bed. The only good thing about this morning was that she wouldn't have to face her fathers. They were out of town on some sort of business trip, and wouldn't be downstairs to make her hangover worse.

"I'm never drinking again," she grumbled as she shuffled into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth as gently as possible. Her stomach wasn't as upset as when she'd woken up at three, but it still hurt. She made her way downstairs and into the kitchen. Toast should work, right? She shuddered, and picked up her phone.

There was a text from Quinn.

That was odd. Sure, the two had buried the proverbial hatchet, and had even spent time together outside of glee, but they weren't really on a texting basis—no matter how much Rachel wanted them to be.

I'm ready to talk when you are. Check your messages if you don't remember. :)

Okay…that was really strange. Rachel switched to her "Sent" folder…and promptly dropped her toast on the ground.

I just love you so much, Quinnerz!

Quinnerz is what I call you in my dreams!

Course I'm not durnkl.

I think your beautfil hair must smell like roses. Can I smell your hair sometim?

You're so prety and I wan to kiss youuu!

Wanna go tot fthe parp?

The parpo, Quinn!

It's pretty!

No, Quinnerz! Don kill Puck!



Nite Quinnerz!

Rachel stared down at her phone in absolute horror. She didn't even want to look at Quinn's responses. She took a few deep breaths and went back to her toast. She'd deal with this later.