Fic: Lucky Star
Title: Lucky Star
Rating: PG-13 (I guess)
Pairing: Quinn/Rachel
Prompt(s): none
Summary: Random texting can be fun
Disclaimer: haha...please. If I owned them, they'd so do it every chance they got.
A/N: This wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it, but it went a completely different direction than I wanted it to go. So, I don't know how I feel about it, but I hope you like it.
*chung, chung*
The sudden sound of the Law and Order sound .wav filling her otherwise silent room, caused Quinn to stir. Hazel eyes fluttered open and it took her a moment to realize she was in her "new" room in the basement of Finn's house. She frowned slightly at the mildewy smell that assaulted her nostrils. Pregnancy had certainly affected her sense of smell in the most unpleasant ways. She rubbed her eyes and reached for her phone. She stifled a yawn as she read the message.
I can't stop thinking about you.
Her brow wrinkled in confusion. It wasn't from a number she recognized and it was too late in the night/early in the morning for her to try to decipher who it could possibly be.
Who is this?
When fifteen minutes passed and there was no reply, Quinn decided it must have been a wrong number and snuggled back under the covers.
*chung, chung*
The next text came just as she was drifting back to sleep. She jerked the phone to her face, annoyed at the interruption. This baby already made it plenty awkward for her to sleep anyway and now she had to deal with an anonymous texter.
It's Rachel, silly.
Quinn rubbed her eyes again. Rachel?? Rachel Berry was texting her at three in the morning? Really?
How did you get my number, Scary Spice?
This time the reply came back in two minutes.
*chung, chung*
You gave it to me last week, remember?
Quinn thought back to the previous week. She had given her number to Rachel because they'd worked together on a project for English.
It's 3 in the morning. What do you want, Berry?
*chung, chung*
I told you. I can't stop thinking about you.
Frowning again, Quinn scratched her head. What the hell did that mean? She turned her phone to vibrate because the constant sound byte was starting to grate on her nerves.
Um...what?
I can't stop thinking about you. I really liked what you were wearing today. You looked really hot.
The words caused her stomach to flop and she shifted in her bed uncomfortably. What the hell was Rachel even talking about. Quinn was certain Rachel didn't mean to send this to her because...Quinn was Quinn and there was no way Rachel found her hot. That was just...wrong. Maybe the girl was drunk. That had to be it.
Um are you drunk or something? You do know that you're sending these texts to Quinn and not Finn, right?
It pained Quinn to ask that question especially since Finn was still her boyfriend, but you'd have to be pretty blind not to notice the looks that he and the other girl shared.
I'm a little drunk. Kurt gave me five shots of something that burned when it went down.
Of course, the girls from glee we all over Kurt's house tonight. Quinn had begged off because she'd been really tired after the movie. So, now Rachel was drunk-dialing her. She should probably text Santana and have her take Rachel's phone away before she said something shouldn't say and Quinn was forced to cut her.
Right, you're drunk and this isn't Finn's number.
I know this isn't Finn's number. His name starts with an F and Quinn starts with a Q.
That's right. It does. So, why are texting me, sweetie?
Quinn asked, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her annoyance.
Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. You looked...really hot today and I spent all of fifth period thinking about kissing you and running my fingers through your hair. Is it soft? I bet it's soft. It looks soft.
Taken aback, Quinn tried shaking her head to clear the images the text conjured. Was Rachel insane? She had to be. Why was she sending these texts to her? Did she want Quinn to have enough ammo on her to send her straight to social Siberia for the next twenty years? It wasn't like she and Quinn were friends. Far from it. They were barely acquaintances, but much to the blonde's surprise, she really didn't have the desire to use these bizarre texts against Rachel. She really just wanted to go back to sleep and chock it up to a weird dream.
Rachel, you're drunk. You should probably just go to sleep. I don't think you know what you're saying. Why don't you give your phone to Tina or something?
Everyone's sleeping and I can't sleep because I can't stop thinking about you. Usually I just touch myself and that puts me to sleep, but I can't. Everyone is here.
She nearly dropped her phone when she read Rachel's reply. She closed her eyes as she was assaulted with mental pictures of Rachel laying in her bed, legs spread and writhing in ecstasy. To her shock, it caused her to shiver. To her discontentment, it wasn't a shiver of disgust.
Look, I don't know what you think you're going to achieve by telling me all of this. I'm pretty sure you're too drunk to know what the hell you're saying, but I'm going to sleep.
Wait!
What, Berry?
What are you wearing?
Goodnight, Rachel
Goodnight, Quinn
Wait!
What, Rachel?
I really do think about you all of the time. I just wanted you to know. And if you ever decide you want to kiss me back that'd be okay too.
Quinn decided not to answer the last text. Instead she grabbed her pillow and willed herself back to sleep. If her dreams were filled with a certain brunette whose vocal abilities weren't limited to her singing if Quinn's dreams were any indication, she blamed it on the pregnancy and having her sleep interrupted.
And on Monday when her eyes locked and held with Rachel's in English class for longer than was probably appropriate, she reminded herself that Rachel was just drunk. And that there was no way she meant that invitation to kiss her. And that there was no way Quinn was considering taking her up on it.
Rating: PG-13 (I guess)
Pairing: Quinn/Rachel
Prompt(s): none
Summary: Random texting can be fun
Disclaimer: haha...please. If I owned them, they'd so do it every chance they got.
A/N: This wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it, but it went a completely different direction than I wanted it to go. So, I don't know how I feel about it, but I hope you like it.
*chung, chung*
The sudden sound of the Law and Order sound .wav filling her otherwise silent room, caused Quinn to stir. Hazel eyes fluttered open and it took her a moment to realize she was in her "new" room in the basement of Finn's house. She frowned slightly at the mildewy smell that assaulted her nostrils. Pregnancy had certainly affected her sense of smell in the most unpleasant ways. She rubbed her eyes and reached for her phone. She stifled a yawn as she read the message.
I can't stop thinking about you.
Her brow wrinkled in confusion. It wasn't from a number she recognized and it was too late in the night/early in the morning for her to try to decipher who it could possibly be.
Who is this?
When fifteen minutes passed and there was no reply, Quinn decided it must have been a wrong number and snuggled back under the covers.
*chung, chung*
The next text came just as she was drifting back to sleep. She jerked the phone to her face, annoyed at the interruption. This baby already made it plenty awkward for her to sleep anyway and now she had to deal with an anonymous texter.
It's Rachel, silly.
Quinn rubbed her eyes again. Rachel?? Rachel Berry was texting her at three in the morning? Really?
How did you get my number, Scary Spice?
This time the reply came back in two minutes.
*chung, chung*
You gave it to me last week, remember?
Quinn thought back to the previous week. She had given her number to Rachel because they'd worked together on a project for English.
It's 3 in the morning. What do you want, Berry?
*chung, chung*
I told you. I can't stop thinking about you.
Frowning again, Quinn scratched her head. What the hell did that mean? She turned her phone to vibrate because the constant sound byte was starting to grate on her nerves.
Um...what?
I can't stop thinking about you. I really liked what you were wearing today. You looked really hot.
The words caused her stomach to flop and she shifted in her bed uncomfortably. What the hell was Rachel even talking about. Quinn was certain Rachel didn't mean to send this to her because...Quinn was Quinn and there was no way Rachel found her hot. That was just...wrong. Maybe the girl was drunk. That had to be it.
Um are you drunk or something? You do know that you're sending these texts to Quinn and not Finn, right?
It pained Quinn to ask that question especially since Finn was still her boyfriend, but you'd have to be pretty blind not to notice the looks that he and the other girl shared.
I'm a little drunk. Kurt gave me five shots of something that burned when it went down.
Of course, the girls from glee we all over Kurt's house tonight. Quinn had begged off because she'd been really tired after the movie. So, now Rachel was drunk-dialing her. She should probably text Santana and have her take Rachel's phone away before she said something shouldn't say and Quinn was forced to cut her.
Right, you're drunk and this isn't Finn's number.
I know this isn't Finn's number. His name starts with an F and Quinn starts with a Q.
That's right. It does. So, why are texting me, sweetie?
Quinn asked, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her annoyance.
Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. You looked...really hot today and I spent all of fifth period thinking about kissing you and running my fingers through your hair. Is it soft? I bet it's soft. It looks soft.
Taken aback, Quinn tried shaking her head to clear the images the text conjured. Was Rachel insane? She had to be. Why was she sending these texts to her? Did she want Quinn to have enough ammo on her to send her straight to social Siberia for the next twenty years? It wasn't like she and Quinn were friends. Far from it. They were barely acquaintances, but much to the blonde's surprise, she really didn't have the desire to use these bizarre texts against Rachel. She really just wanted to go back to sleep and chock it up to a weird dream.
Rachel, you're drunk. You should probably just go to sleep. I don't think you know what you're saying. Why don't you give your phone to Tina or something?
Everyone's sleeping and I can't sleep because I can't stop thinking about you. Usually I just touch myself and that puts me to sleep, but I can't. Everyone is here.
She nearly dropped her phone when she read Rachel's reply. She closed her eyes as she was assaulted with mental pictures of Rachel laying in her bed, legs spread and writhing in ecstasy. To her shock, it caused her to shiver. To her discontentment, it wasn't a shiver of disgust.
Look, I don't know what you think you're going to achieve by telling me all of this. I'm pretty sure you're too drunk to know what the hell you're saying, but I'm going to sleep.
Wait!
What, Berry?
What are you wearing?
Goodnight, Rachel
Goodnight, Quinn
Wait!
What, Rachel?
I really do think about you all of the time. I just wanted you to know. And if you ever decide you want to kiss me back that'd be okay too.
Quinn decided not to answer the last text. Instead she grabbed her pillow and willed herself back to sleep. If her dreams were filled with a certain brunette whose vocal abilities weren't limited to her singing if Quinn's dreams were any indication, she blamed it on the pregnancy and having her sleep interrupted.
And on Monday when her eyes locked and held with Rachel's in English class for longer than was probably appropriate, she reminded herself that Rachel was just drunk. And that there was no way she meant that invitation to kiss her. And that there was no way Quinn was considering taking her up on it.