Chapter 3

Pulsing, throbbing pain. It was the reason Rachel Berry had woken up... Or the first thing she had felt upon waking up. She wasn't completely sure for she wasn't really awake, but it didn't really matter either, because the pain seemed to make up the whole universe anyway. Then, like the flare of a supernova, came the awareness that she had a body. Though that didn't improve the situation any, as said body appeared to consist of a head, from which the excruciating pain was originating, a stomach full of indescribable horrors ready to burst out, and a mouth, the inside of which felt (and tasted) like it was lined with dog hair.

All in all, Rachel wished she had stayed unconscious.

While she was lying (she had come to realize the horizontal positioning of her body after some heavy pondering) on whatever it was that she was lying on, the thought to open her eyes had briefly crossed her mind (among all the other thoughts vying for her attention, many of them on philosophical topics such as What is Satan's last name? and Do Jewish vampires avoid crosses or stars of David?), but at that moment the pounding in her skull seemed to come from just behind her eyelids, so she didn't even try in fear of her eyeballs popping out.

Sometime later, the diva's (over)sensitive ears detected the faint click of an opening door and the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Rise and shine!" was yelled out, seemingly right into her eardrums, but most probably much farther away and in a tone much tamer that yelling.

"Shut the hell up, Charlie, or I'm gonna kill you," another, rather raspier voice growled in answer. Rachel felt its rumbling against her chest more than she heard it. There was a weight on her ribs that she was just becoming aware of. It, however, was emanating very pleasant and comforting warmth, so she decided not to concern herself with it and turn her, quite a miserable amount at the moment, energy to solving the problem of the shrieking which had hurt her brain.

"I feel inclined to agree," was what she said, and it was the most she felt capable of doing.

The shrieking voice laughed and said, "Okay, I'll come back later."

Then it left the room.

Rachel continued to lie like that for a while longer, until curiosity finally overcame her discomfort and she forced herself to move.

Now that she was somewhat focused on the present and the sensations coming from her hand (the only limb she felt like moving), the little brunette could feel that her hand was resting on the source of the warmth (mentioned above) and that this source was a human body. Further investigation (via careful dragging of her palm over the hot surface) alerted her to the fact that the human using her for a pillow was most definitely female (she encountered a bra strap on the way up). This observation was confirmed by the heap of soft, long hair in which her fingers tangled moments later.

Yep, certainly a girl, the singer thought when the person lying on her moaned lightly at the feeling of having their hair played with and snuggled closer to her, effectively pressing a pair of breasts against Rachel's torso.

And effectively waking Rachel up.

=P =P =P

Okay, breathe, Berry. You know you're in Charlie's bed, in Charlie's room.

Rachel was, indeed, lying on Charlie Fabray's bed, head tilted as far back against the pillow as it could go and staring at the ceiling. She had already looked around the room, in hopes of gaining some idea of what she was doing there.

The petite singer had already ascertained that it was Saturday morning, although she possessed hardly any memories of Friday night. She remembered, of course, that she had attended Noah Puckerman's party the previous evening. However, everything after Charlie had shared her story with the Glee club became increasingly blurry. She did remember something which might have been a drinking game, sufficient explanation for the hangover she had woken up to, perhaps.

Although that didn't really explain why she had woken up cuddling with Quinn Fabray.

Rachel sneaked a glance down at the cheerleader. The other girl was completely out of it, one arm thrown around the diva's waist, face pressed against the singer's sternum and breathing deeply and peacefully. The brunette's fingers were idly stroking through the rich golden locks as she turned the situation over in her mind.

Since thinking seemed to yield nothing and no answers looked to be appearing from thin air, Rachel steeled her nerves and gently pushed the HBIC's arm off.

Here's to hoping she's a heavy sleeper.

=P =P =P

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Charlotte Fabray."

Charlie stopped typing and lifted her gaze from the laptop. Across the kitchen table was her best friend, looking pissed.

"I have a fully legitimate explanation for everything, Rach," the blonde winced slightly as Rachel's glare bore down on her. She took the pair of reading glasses off and rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles.

"Well, I'm waiting," the evil best friend from hung-over hell practically growled and pursed her lips.

"Aaah... Where do you want me to start?"

TBC