


Blissfully Corrupt

by Her Name Is Erika



Category: Zoey 101
Genre: Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-06
Updated: 2008-11-06
Packaged: 2013-07-14 01:06:25
Rating: T
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,536
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4640425/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/958397/Her-Name-Is-Erika
Summary: “I have until midnight to corrupt a quite beautiful angel.” Smirking like the handsome devil he truly was, I let him kiss me.





	Blissfully Corrupt

**A/N: Okay, so I know it's not Halloween anymore, but I just wanted to get this piece off my chest. It's late. I know that, but I'm actually quite tired yesterday and didn't have the energy to write it yesterday, so I wrote it this morning in church of all places. So enjoy it. I won't focus too much on everyone else. But enjoy the Quogan magic everybody. My sixty seventh piece of writing. Go me! Anyhow, enjoy. I'll be working on Thoughts of An Intellectual when my week isn't going to be so hellish. Everybody is seventeen turning eighteen in this chapter and it's Senior Year. **

**I'm actually keeping things canon in the one just because. No particular reason. **

**Major props to Haley for helping me with this one! Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: I hate stating the obvious. Don't make me. Seriously. **

* * *

I've always had a deep appreciation for this holiday.

When I was five, I was dressed as a helium atom in the Bohr-model fashion with the two shells required. I constructed that myself. When I was nine, I was a glass beaker of formaldehyde and in the ninth grade I was Einstein. Halloween allowed the imagination to be explored by dressing up to one's heart's content. Not only did Halloween inspire imagination but it allowed me to showcase my latest Quinnvention this year – sugarless candy that looked and tasted like the original, only this time, it was made of natural components and no enamel erosion causing cavities.

There was the annual Halloween Haunt planned for tonight and I wasn't going as anything really scientific this year but as something quite common – with a Quinn Pensky twist! I'm just in the process of altering my halo's wiring about re-wiring the circuit. All I have to do is touch the red wire to blue wire, and success! An actual halo that glows when I clap. I took applause in account, so I fixed so it only responds to me.

Cool, huh? All I have to do is graft it to the headpiece…and it's complete and ready to use.

"Hey," greeted Lola when she walked in, and dropped her bag on the bed above mine. She opened our mini fridge and took one of the bottles of Blix before questioning what I was doing. "What are you doing?"

"Rewiring my halo so it actually glows when I clap," I told her with genuine excitement. "Watch!"

I put the transparent headpiece made of flexible glass fiber on my head and clapped twice, before it emitted a soft white glow. It was another for the 'Completion of Another Quinnvention' Files,' and I clapped twice before the glow went out, and I put it on the desk where my laptop sat. My life-like wings were big quite and in the closet. Zoey made the white/silver dress to go with it. She assured it was finished, but she wasn't going to let me see it. The anticipation was killing me, to be honest.

No, I'm not going to zap her, and hypnotize her into telling me.

"Oh, wow. It didn't fry your hair, knock you out, or make you hiccup for a straight week."

I rolled my eyes, quite familiar with the incidents she was talking about. Technically, it's not my fault, Lola's accessories acted as a lightning rod to my mini electro-generator. I'm still working out the bugs on that one. It'll help when there's a power outage and our dorm hall is powered up. The stun ray was only once or twice, but she lived, didn't she? So, I hardly think carrying the blame is fair.

"The label clearly read Chemical Esophagus Stimulator," I defended. I was curious after reading a blog on the stimulation of the digestive system. It's just best not to ask me to go deeper into it, but I was intrigued by the whole research of gag reflexes and why some are worse than others. Something to do with the uvula, but it's a side project.

"Then don't make things that look and taste like Blix!"

I chose not to delve any deeper and asked Lola when she collapsed into the yellow bean bag, and pointed to the remote to our apple-shaped TV.

"Hey, where's Zoey?"

"Decorating the gym with Chase," Lola replied, and then laughed, bringing her Blix to her lips. "Ha! Giraffe in bellbottoms! I wouldn't do it, but this is awesome!"

"So, what are you going to wear tonight?" I asked, conversationally.

"I'm going as Cleopatra, and Vince will be going as her boyfriend."

Ah, Cleopatra and Marc Antony. That's an innovative choice, but my best friend has always been creative. Sure, we love Zoey, but I just feel like I share more with Lola. The story of star-crossed lovers – they actually weren't together— that ended dying together. Cleopatra ended up killing herself by an asp bite. It's disputed on whether the asp thing is true. Historians say that she actually poisoned herself with some toxic ointment.

"Cleopatra and Marc Antony. Nice choice."

"I know, right?" she returned, eyes lighting up. "For once, my history textbook doesn't have to be a paperweight anymore, and she was one of the beautiful women in the world. She was sort of a past celebrity, like me, a future celebrity!"

I laughed, taking my cell phone and my keys, "I'm going to take a walk, okay?"

"I'm okay with you and Logan dating –"

"Really?" I prodded, in questioning. She sighed, still in that beanbag so she was looking up at me. She was an outstanding actress. I can't dispute that, but I wasn't going to buy into that. "You really are okay with Logan and I being a couple after we've been a public couple for _five months_?"

"If you're going to see him, spare me the details."

"Okay, I'm leaving now," I sighed, and she knew that was the way we said goodbye or one of them.

Turning on my heel, I walked through the open door and down the hallway, only to come in contact with Vince. He looked up slightly, and greeted me with a smile, "Oh, hey Quinn."

"Hey."

"Lola at your dorm, right?" he questioned, and I nodded. "I told her football practice was going to be longer, but it was cancelled because Coach Keller ate too much yellowtail, so I'm free for the next couple of hours."

"Yeah. Currently, she's in the middle of indulging in a _Girly Cow_ marathon," I replied, tucking a lock of hair behind my now cartilage-pierced ear. It was a rainy day in Seattle and Logan basically coerced me into getting it, impulsively while he arrived because his father was actually filming in Seattle. Needles don't usually terrify me but I felt much better with him holding my hand.

Vince offered a grateful smile, "Thanks, Quinn. I'll see you around."

"Likewise."

When he was far enough, and walking in the direction of our dorm room, I simply laughed. I laughed at the thought of Vince dressed up as a Roman general, armour and all.

It simply amused me.

* * *

"Hey beautiful," was the first thing he said and my phone rang and I answered. I smiled, walking outside on my way to see him because I knew work for him wasn't over yet. I know what you're all thinking: Logan, my boyfriend. Logan Reese working as in getting a job is not plausible. It doesn't add up, and frankly, I believe you're entitled to that. Logan isn't used to taking orders from anyone, but his father insisted saying it'll prepare him for the real world.

It's amazing what words of encouragement and couple of kisses of good luck and re-assurance can do. Although I liked to think that it was my words that motivated him, the reality was it was the second option. I didn't mind that. He works at the little café restaurant that opened up on campus (it sort of has a lounge vibe), and it helps that Lisa's with him at the same job – our boyfriends clash so we've worked a little arrangement.

"Hey Logan."

"When I see you, I'm going to sneak up behind you and kiss your neck, and then I'm going to whisper dirty things to you," he said, and I could that smirk that hid his true smile so vividly in my mind. I did that frequently and it made me realize how special he made me feel. It also made me realize how hard I'd fallen for him, flaws and all. I laughed at his playfulness, and that seductive tone that made me smile quite brightly. " – in Spanish."

"You speak Spanish?"

"Well, Italian's close enough," he said in a dismissive tone, as I walked through campus. "Hey, listen. I'm actually not at work right now. Pete let us out early because of the dance tonight, but I can see you. "

"Where are you?" I wanted to know. Had it anyone else I would have been forced to use zap as a means of defense, but it was my boyfriend, my most of the time quiet sweet, boyfriend, so I found it kind of endearing until a pair of arms wrapped around my waist.

"Boo!"

Slightly startled, I jumped before I shut my phone and whipped around, pinching him in his shoulder.

I tried to be angry that he'd startled me, but I couldn't, and lost my grip on anger.

"Don't startle me like that."

"Ow!" he cried out and rubbed the spot. "See? Now, you're going to have to kiss me better."

I consented, with a sigh and kissed him, pressing his lips against mine. He had different types of kisses that explain his emotions. There was the type of endearing kiss in which he would be gentle and soft, stroking my cheek. That really meant he was in one of those happy moods. Even though, he typically acted like himself, snapping at everyone in that cocky tone, he never did with me. He had this teasing playful kiss when we'd be together alone, my head resting on his shoulder while his fingers stroking my bare shoulder and then he'd softly he'd gaze at me and kiss the corner of my mouth, smirking against it.

"I love you," I whispered, with the utmost sincerity when we were alone. With all of the drama happening tonight, I figured we'd better escape everything and be alone. Even though, we were a public couple now, he still maintained his promise to sneak off so we could be alone. He turned to look at me, lips pulled into a small smile before he leaned in, using one finger to tilt my chin slightly, before he kissed me.

I was content with wearing his suit jacket even though it was big for me but it didn't bother me at all.

Pulling away, he grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers, "I know. A lot of people do, but the thing is I only have eyes for you."

Then there was the kiss that we shared after fighting so heatedly over a lot of things that when I think about now, was pretty petty. It was all of our frustrations contained that one gesture and when we got it out of our systems; everything had a sense of homeostasis again. In retrospect, there can't be a relationship and where both opinions coincide with each other. It's just not possible.

Holding my hand, we walked around, not really sure of where we were headed. I found myself laughing at one of work-related stuff that went on around Logan again. It was actually pretty funny.

"Speaking of Lisa, Michael's bent on trick-or-treating."

Only Michael would come up with something like that. He's seventeen going on six, but I have to say that Lola is seventeen going on five and a half. That's why they're like best friends. Well, Michael's her male best friend. I can understand why Michael gets jealous when anyone else refers to themselves as "Chase's best friend".

Not that I do that with Lola, because I don't.

Okay, fine. It was only one time. I suggest we don't go there.

"Well, that's Michael for you. Same guy that bonded with a horse," I pointed out, and he rolled his eyes. I ignored that because he's not capable of being nice, but he's being himself. I'm not saying Logan's heartless, but bits of cockiness and egoism are still there. I wouldn't change that because despite he has a lot of redeeming qualities he hasn't shown to anyone, but me.

"He's not normal."

"Uh, baby. Neither are we. No one in our group has really achieved normalcy."

He scoffed slightly, "I think I'm normal."

"No, you aren't," I returned, a playful smile on my lips. Mind I remind him of his superstitious tendencies? He won't admit it, but he's actually very superstitious. Before any sporting event, Logan has to listen to the the mix CD I made him over the summer three times, so he can "get into the zone". He faked hurt, before I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "I love you for that."

He smiled deviously, "But you know, I will have to get some revenge for that low blow, Quinn."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"Easy. Capture a beautiful girl, and keep her hostage in my room…"

"Well, it's not really a hostage if the girl complies," I answered, finally. I never I could be as flirtatious I was now. Being with Logan probably invoked that slight change in me, but as long as I was with him, I didn't mind it. Giggling incessantly from happiness and excitement, I took his hand and let me lead him in the direction of Maxwell Hall.

* * *

There wasn't a lot of kissing going on. It was actual quite occasional.

Just a lot of cuddling, and snuggling going on by the couch that was situated by the window.

The party started at seven, and it was nearly five. Resting his head on my chest, I felt his heartbeat, strong but it was slightly quickened. I asked the first time, it had felt like that, and it made me feel flattered.

"Your heartbeat's sped up."

Could it be that it was mild arrhythmia, even though Logan was quite healthy or heart murmur at the very discrete degree or –

He stopped my thoughts with a spontaneous kiss, and then pulled away smirking playfully. We were hiding again. Being together in secret when we couldn't do it in public, but just the mere thought of the PCA study body finding out about our relationship made an unpleasant feeling settle in the pit of my stomach, making the hydrochloric acid react quite turbulently.

"Your fault, Pensky."

And I felt the colour rush to my face, showing in the form of a bush when I caught that wink.

His hand absent-mindedly stroked my hair, but I let out a quiet sigh, enjoying the sensation of it. I felt his lips kiss my hair, and my eyes were kept on his arm while mine went over it, on top of my mid-section. It's really amazing. It's amazing because you'd never think someone like Logan would have all of these complex emotions and feelings. He has all of these dreams and aspirations that throw me out of a loop, even though I am his girlfriend. But life is full of surprises like that. It's always best to experience a certain degree of spontaneity? Know what I mean?

So, when he asked me this question, it actually caught me off guard. Shifting my position, I maneuvered it so that I was facing him. He looked quite adorable when he was being all awkward. Logan was never the awkward type, so I wanted to know. Once again, my curiosity got the better of me. It wasn't the curiosity that made me want to research and break down existing things, but the concern spawned from love (yes, I_ love_ him. We've been over this).

"Logan, what's wrong?"

And being his typical self, he tried to cover it up, "Nothing."

I touched his arm, "Tell me or I don't kiss you."

"Quinn, that's evil!"

His face was aghast, and I folded my arms across my chest, trying not to erupt it laughter because I _always_ found that comical. It was the end of October, still early in the year. College applications were just coming in for us to fill out early. But then he sighed, and the question was asked.

"Quinn, how long do you think we'll make it?"

I felt confusion flood over me, and for once, didn't understand. I didn't understand which context he was taking that in.

"What?"

"I mean," he started. "…how long do think we'll make it together? There's all this stuff about college coming up and I know you'll practically fly right in, because you're pretty and smart, but – "

I could see the emotions he never showed in public to anyone else, even though everyone knew we were a couple. Usually when Logan felt threatened, he lashed out and made fun of others. I'm trying to decrease that but it's a process. There was clear fear in his eyes, and he was terrified about after high school. He'll deny it, but I know better.

"You're worried about college, aren't you?" I asked him softly.

"I'm not worried about anything," he affirmed, going back to that ego he had. It's like he had the power to switch it on and off on demand. Just like Lola could cry almost instantaneously. Hmm, interesting. I'm sure it's due to her acting, but still, the thought intrigues me enough to want to look into it. I might have to put that somewhere in the cognitive/emotional section of my research. Sighing, I took his hands in mine.

Time for a little reassurance.

"Do you know why I'm fond of you?"

"Because of my 900 qualities," he replied, looking quite sheepish. I laughed, and rolled my eyes because he did have shining qualities that made me wonder what if he hadn't ridden by on that Jet-X. I mentally kick myself even now and then for just shooing him away when I wanted to just be alone, but he's resilient like that. It's that determination (though it has been used for secondary motives in the past) that will get him somewhere.

"Logan, I like you because you have the capability to just as sweet and nice as everyone else, and your smart," I told him, seriously, placing my hand on his cheek. "You're smart too, and you'll get into college. You have the ability, because in you, and your potential. We'll make it."

Before anything could be said, my phone rang loudly, almost making me jump because I wasn't expecting any calls. I flipped it open, and the call display flashed **LOLA**. Logan had his arm around my shoulder, looking over it. He groaned, rolling his eyes.

"God, she's got the worst timing ever."

"Be nice," I scolded. "And don't pout about it either."

I answered, putting it on speaker, and before I could get a word in (what was with people abruptly cutting me off today?) Lola's hurried voice came on, "Quinn, stop sucking his face, and get your butt over here!"

"I'm sitting here!" Logan yelled, offended. This is how an argument between them started. I'm actually two sided on the whole animosity between them, even though I know for a fact way, way, _way_ deep down they don't really hate each other. I'm just torn because he's my boyfriend and she's my best friend, so you can how this puts me in an unfavorable place right now.

But on the side of the Lola-Logan I Can't Stand You spectrum, it's become so apart of life that I just naturally accept it. There are only a few occasions where someone would have to intervene, however.

"Wish you weren't," Lola retorted, making Logan scoff.

"Throw a better comeback, Martinez, and we'll talk."

"Yeah," Lola was getting prepared to dish out a comeback. "You're so – hey!"

"Okay, you're banned. Cleopatra or not. Not now. Afterwards, you can argue with each other all night because it's chronic," I heard Zoey's voice in the background. It appeared as if she'd stopped her right in the nick of time. Her tone was serious even though Zoey allowed a laugh to be heard. "Rescue yourself from Logan's clutches and get here. I'm finished with the dress that will pretty much tie your costume together. Later."

I guess I had to put that truth serum on one of my back shelves then since there was no need to use it. I shut the phone and stowed it away in my pocket. The time showed fifteen after six, and I really lost track of time.

"Oh, wow. Six-fifteen already."

"Time flies when you're having fun with me, babe," he replied, and kissed me. I let the kiss linger not sure of when I wanted to break it, but I had to because I was in need of oxygen. "So, what's this I hear about a hot dress you will practically be wearing tonight?"

"I'm not telling. You'll have to wait."

"So, if I tell you that up until I was eight, I thought I was Spiderman and dressed up as the blue Power Ranger, because no one else knew how to rock the Power Ranger thing like I did, then will you tell me and drop a few hints?"

The thought of an eight-year-old posing in an heroic stance in a Power Ranger, and the same old eight-year rambunctious, never-sit-still Logan attempting to scale trees before there weren't walls and building tall enough for him to scale, entered my mind so vividly, but I had to giggle at the picture currently occupied my head.

"Cute," I giggled, near the door and pressed my lips to his cheek. And then it was my turn to display a smile of mystery and harmless secrecy. "And no. My lips remain sealed. You'll see it soon enough. I've got to go."

"Damn," Logan 'cursed' under his breath. "Okay, you're free to go."

I hugged him tightly before I breezed Chase and Michael were going to their dorm.

Of course, I gave them a quick hello to them, seeing as we were all friends.

I headed to my dorm from Maxwell under the best speed time, and travel time with the lowest difficulty.

* * *

"There you are!"

Zoey appeared to be a dirty blonde Dorothy, and her hair had grown longer than last year, so it actually worked. Lola sat in the mirror in the vanity, applying her make-up, while dressed as someone that could be described as Cleopatra in her teenage years. She caught my reflection in the mirror, which is why she acknowledged my presence.

"Yeah, here I am," was my only reply because I really couldn't say anything else. I actually missed Logan already, and it made me realize that he was making me ill – in the good, somewhat ridiculous, lovesick way – but I missed the contact and sense of security. Slipping on her ruby red heels, Zoey went into the closet and pulled out a hanger, covered by an opaque grey zipper cover, and handed it to me. Mimicking her smile, I took it from her grateful and excited.

"Just put that on, and get ready. I have to leave right now. I have a scarecrow waiting for me because we have to put the last finishing touches," she explained, and hugged me before releasing me.

"Just don't make out with the scarecrow too much!" Lola teased her, making me laugh.

Zoey quirked an eyebrow, the beginnings of a smile played on her red glossed lips, and directed a look to Lola, "I don't say anything when you make out with Vince randomly."

"Don't hate."

"Nah, I love you, but I gotta go."

"I'm going to try this dress on while you argue your way out," I put in, and grabbed the dress, going into the adjoining bathroom. I zipped the cover, and was honestly surprised beyond belief. It was a white gown that was elaborately designed. It was white, and had this clear train. Excitement flowed through me, and I couldn't just anticipate putting it on, but in actuality, I had done that and was amazed at how precisely Zoey had gotten my size. Zoey really could be handy with a sewing machine, just like Lola works wonders with manipulating emotions, and I manipulated chemical and gases. I'm working out some of the kinks, and that requires time.

"Quinn, hurry! I'm so helping you with your make-up!"

"Okay, just a minute!" I yelled, through the door. I glanced at the mirror, and turned around in the very slightest to come to the realization that it revealed this figure that I knew I had but just didn't focus all of my attention on because it wasn't important because it was irrelevant. But even so, it made me feel pretty, and the elaborate design's Zoey put on the hem, and the slight train was a nice touch. Zoey was right. It brought everything together.

My thoughts and marvel with the dress were interrupted by the knocking on the door, "Quinn, you okay?"

"Yeah, just wait. I need your opinion," I answered, and that was the truth. If there was anyone's opinion, I valued Lola only because she was my best friend. Of course, I valued Logan giving our status, but his didn't count. He would just naturally be sweet. I liked the praise, but for now, Lola's opinion was the only one that seemed plausible. I took my deep breath, trying to make my slight self-consciousness. "Okay, I'm coming out. Tell me what you think."

"I would know if you opened the door," she answered, affectionately impatient. I opened the door, and I hear her gasp. "Oh my God. Quinn, the dress looks amazing on you!"

"Really?"

"Yeah," she nodded, excitedly, and grabbed my hand, sitting me in the chair she was previously sitting in. I saw a whole array of makeup, lip colour, eyeshadow and mascara. I was soon caught in a whole flurry of make-up, and had to take off my glasses, just she could achieve the "sexy smoky eye" (in her words) illusion, and then apply eyelash curlers. But if the eyelash curlers were used, but what was the point of mascara? Didn't they function the same?

"What's the point of mascara if they are eyelash curlers?"

"Mascara makes your eyelashes longer, and eyelash curlers curl the actual eyelash," she explained, unscrewing the pink of sparkly pink lip gloss. Lola is such a makeup enthusiast and she actually picked the lip gloss out when I bought it. When buying makeup, she goes by the three S's: shade, skin tone, and style. "Now quiet. Unless you want lip gloss on your teeth."

She put lip gloss on my lips, after I conceded with a silent and slight hesitance.

"Blot," she commanded, slightly, and she stuck a tissue, so I could get rid of the excess lip gloss. And then she smiled, contentedly and turned me around to face the mirror. "Voila!"

I liked it a lot, and I realized the smoky-eyed look did really suit me.

Swiveling the chair around I slipped on, white and silver heels while Lola practically put on my earrings, and the accessories that were hers. She really did look like Cleopatra right down to the way her make-up was. I stood, putting on my glowing halo, and the big white angel wings. It looked realistic with feathers and all.

I hugged her gratefully, "Thank you, Lola. And least you didn't clown me this time."

"You're welcome," she replied, and grabbing her clutch. It probably had a digital camera in there. I can assure you all, that by the time, the party is over and the last slow song is over, she would have had a whole memory card full of photos uploaded on FaceSpace. "And the clown thing was art."

"You know Cleopatra never did have a clutch in Ancient Egypt, right?"

It was a joke. A historical inaccuracy, but a joke that made her laugh and roll her eyes and then loop her arm in mine.

"Well, she should've. Let's go party it up now."

"Lead the way," I replied, with a smile.

The linkage between our arms slightly tightened, just like our friendship.

* * *

Halloween really brought the best out in people.

Because Michael actually did a great job emceeing for prom, Mr. Bender actually asked him to do it again. Michael basically emcees for all school functions now. Currently, Logan's arm was around my waist. He really made a handsome devil. He would kiss me discretely, just a small, teasing one on the corner of my mouth, and get away with it because he could. I wouldn't object to it exactly, but it was difficult trying to split my attention between a Michael that was dressed as a Prince Charming which could only mean that Lisa was clearly dressed as a princess completed with gleaming tiara and all. She really did look stunning.

"Okay Party People! Welcome to the Halloween Haunt! Now, I wanna throw down and party it up, so without further ado, let's get our monster mash on!" Michael started the party on stage, accompanied by unanimous cheers, myself included. He hopped off stage, the party started and so did the music.

Amidst the partying and music spreading like an overly contagious case of the chicken pox, Logan and I manage to be alone.

"I have until midnight to corrupt a quite beautiful angel," he took my hand, kissing it. "I'm luckier tonight."

"How would you go about doing that?"

I quirked an eyebrow, wrapping my arms around his neck. I smiled, just to egg him on. His hand went at the small of my back, and that was the spot. The action was sudden and it made that blush induced sensation start up again, especially when he drew small circular patterns that made me tingle. I came to another realization that our costumes embody our relationship. Logan and I contrasted each other – total ends of the spectrum. We were so different from each other that I tried to deny what had transpired on the bench, until we couldn't do it anymore.

But everything happens for a reason.

I was never a believer in Fate, but I may give the smallest of leeway to that.

"Oh, I have ways, babe."

Smirking like the handsome devil he truly was, I let him kiss me.

Never once did quite potent kisses like that fail to make feel dizzy with delight and and a delirious degree of bliss.

He definitely kissed me in between segments – in between slow dances – because he could get away with it.

And I mostly certainly wouldn't object.

I've also decided that I'm happily and romantically corrupt, but in the happy satisfied way, Logan makes me feel.

I really appreciate Halloween to a whole new degree now.

* * *

**A/N: There's my oneshot. I don't think it was my best work. But I honestly tried. I'm going to work on The Prince & The Princess for a while bit before my brain melts down and deems me too sleepy to form words and string sentences together. Everyone could use a little Quogan fluff, yes? And I just completed one of the longest stories I've written in a while, "Guidance" so please review. Please. I love feedback. Feedback makes Erika happy and smile all day, yes?**

**Speaking of happy, I'm effing ecstatic about Obama's win! Just thought I'd share that.**

**Review while I deal with the Quinn/Vince drabble that is beating away in the back of my head. Ah, stupid plotbunnies. **

**Goodnight, all.**

**-Erika**


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