Spencer
The clock that hung on the wall tracked the passing seconds in metronomic harmony with her heavy breaths. It was ten o'clock on the nose; according to the halted movements of both the hour and second hand, with the telltale sign of morning, the pale winter's sun, shining brightly.
Spencer groaned as the harsh rays pierced her eyes, the light dancing with iridescence along her closed lids. "It burns," she murmured subconsciously, slowly opening her eyes in a lethargic greeting to reality.
Weaving her fingers through her stressed knots, Spencer sighed, reaching for the note she found perched on its fold at the corner of the nightstand. Closing her fist around the paper, she collapsed instantly back onto the bed. As if that simple action drained all of her energy, leaving her, despite the however many hours of deep, dreamless, sleep, newly spent.
Tequila makes your clothes come off. Not that I'm complaining ;) Brave the pain, baby. Oh, remember you have to watch Paisley today, they'll be coming around ten. Love you, xoxo
Andrew
It was only after reading, that Spencer realized that it was true, and she really didn't have any clothes on. Instinctually, she wrapped the tangled sheet over herself, tucking it under her chin.
In the minute that followed, completely silent save for her own steady breaths, she fought to gain a vivid recollection of last night's events. This she knew, wasn't apt; for her brain was still buried under a haze of stale alcohol and dried sweat.
In the midst of her pondering, she was becoming acutely aware of another sound: soft breaths, in tandem with her own. "Auntie Spencer?" came a small voice.
Paisley, Hanna's little girl, was standing patiently at her bedside and holding a tray of some sort. "Mommy said this would help you feel better. Are you sick?"
Spencer paused before answering, though not long enough to arise suspicions, as she conjured up an appropriate reply.
"I'm-" A severe dizzy spell enveloped her suddenly as she swayed - back and forth, back and forth, taking her first answer of 'fine' and making it 'yes.' Even after the dizziness subsided, the pounding headache left in its wake was almost too much to bare and before she could stop herself, she reflexively leaned forward, retching bile, luckily, into the bowl sitting on the nightstand.
Paisley recoiled, taking a giant leap from her previous position as if hot coals littered the ground she'd stood on. She chucked the tray of food onto the bed, not minding its descent, and ran out of the room, screaming "Mommy, Spenc-y sick!"
A minute or so later, Paisley came bounding up the steps again, and if the echoing footfalls were any indication, her mother followed close behind.
"Spence, wow, you look..." Hanna paused abruptly, turning her head to look behind her at her daughter, who was hot on her heels. In this time, Spencer had picked up a hash brown from the tray, nibbling cautiously. Hanna leaned in closer to her, blonde hair caressing ruddy cheek - evidence of the alcohol that's still in her system. "You look like shit."
Spencer barely flinched, not taking offense to the bluntness of the truth. "I know. I feel like it too." She placed the half-eaten hash brown back onto the tray, her appetite showing no signs of replenishing anytime soon. Her fingers were shiny, greasy remnants acting as a reflector as she studied her appearance.
"Damn," she murmured, seeing herself for the first time since waking. Dried drool rounded her mouth. A cultivation of sleep bogged down her bleary eyes. Makeup residue was plastered around her eyes and mascara (tears?) streaked her cheeks. No amount of scrubbing could remove it, any of it, and Spencer groaned in defeat. Grabbing the towel hanging off of the master bathroom's door, Hanna chucked it in her direction, rolling her eyes. "Sober up Spence. I'm taking Paisley to Emily's, I think she said something about being home all day, screening résumés or something."
Spencer took the towel and attempted to stand, grabbing onto the bed rail for support, griping about another dizzy spell. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again. Han, I think that means she's working, only from home instead of her office at the station. Which means that she's busy all the same."
Hanna said nothing, just took Paisley's hand in her own and sighed. "Well I'm not leaving my little girl here alone with you in this state. Maybe I'll just take her with us. My obstetrician said this was just quick, Xray and done. But we get to hear the baby's heartbeat! I'm so excited!"
Spencer attempted a smile for her friend and obliged. "See you two soon, I hope."
She ruffled Paisley's hair, and moved in to give Hanna a hug. "Oh no!" Hanna protested, putting her hands out in attempt to stop the physical contact, "not until you've showered. You reek Spence, seriously."
Once Hanna and her daughter left, after Spencer had a shower and taken the maximum amount of Advil capsules she was able, she crawled back into bed. She slept for the rest the day, only getting up when Andrew summoned her to the kitchen for dinner, feeling that the hangover had finally passed.
Author's Note: Any thoughts on Hanna's baby? Is it a boy or a girl? Or is it... something else...