Lemongrass and Maple Syrup

:| I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON

vsquared_k — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 10:36:21 GMT

shhh let's pretend this really long hiatus isn't because i've lost my muse/became addicted to tumblr, and it's because school is horrible, okay?

Okay, sounds like a plan :D

The Sound of Silence

vsquared_k — Wed, 07 Sep 2011 18:42:34 GMT

Title: The Sound of Silence
Rating: R
Length: <2000
Summary: It's been one whole year since Quinn last heard Rachel's voice.
Warning: Triggery stuff? Maybe? Possibly?

It isn’t often that Quinn Fabray pops in a Rachel Berry CD. In fact, it’s been one year (five hundred, twenty five thousand and six hundred dreadful minutes) since she last heard that heavenly voice. It’s fitting, she thinks, to listen to it now, tonight.

So she opens the CD that sits on the mantlepiece, smiling slightly at the autograph, signed in gold marker, and complete with the star. “With Love, Rachel Berry★”

“You know it will be worth something someday, Quinn! You have to keep a copy!”

She goes to the old CD player that’s connected to a sound system, complete with perfect surround sound, made just for nights like this, and pops it in before sitting down on the right side of the soft loveseat (Always the right side, because Rachel likes the left side more).

“No other sound system is good enough to showcase my voice! It has to be this one!”

She knows she’s going to need the alcohol to help her through this trip down memory lane, because as much as it’s euphoric, it’s definitely going to tear her heart from its seams. But she needs this. She needs the closure. The glass of red wine on the side table seems to magically teleport into her hand, and she sits, quietly, slowly swirling the dark liquid as she waits for her heart to break again.

She leans back onto the armchair as the CD finally loads and starts playing a random song. The chair engulfs her in its softness, and she takes a slow sip of the Cabernet Sauvignon before closing her eyes.

The opening strains of violin swirl through the air, and then... it’s Rachel. Her Rachel... Rachel in all her magnificent glory, singing her heart out, and Quinn can almost see her, standing on a stage, singing to an empty auditorium like she used to in high school.

“I used to... I’m not sure. Imagine this marvelous and amazing crowd, hanging on to every movement I made on that stage. It was my little personal Broadway... The audience loved me, even if no one at school did.”

Moisture collects at the corners of Quinn’s eyes as Rachel’s beautiful voice, her angelic, soulful voice, caresses her erratically fluttering heart, worms its way in, and bursts it with love and regret. God, she’s missed her girl.

Rachel would always be her girl.

The next song comes on, and she smiles as a single tear rolls its way down her face (Another one soon follows.). Their song... kind of. She’d been surprised when Get It Right had made its way onto the CD, but Rachel was always full of surprises.

“This is something we created together, you know. Hindsight is always 20/20, and if it hadn’t been for you, this song would never have been written. And I might have still been stuck in Lima. So... thank you. For everything.”

Another sip of the wine, and she leans her head back, just letting the beautiful vocals wash over her, leaving her in a despairing euphoria.

“The CD is so that future generations will always know about how I existed, once upon a time. I was here, and I was famous, and I was awesome.”

“How modest of you.”

“I’m a Broadway diva, Quinn. I’m good, and everyone knows it.”

Her voice, this song, the memories... it’s all flooding back, and Quinn can’t stop feeling long enough to think about how much she needed this, how much she, for the past year, wanted to bring herself to listen to Rachel sing, but never could... even if it isn’t really for her, like it used to be.

It’s for everyone now, like it was meant to be.

But here, in the privacy of their (her) condo, she can pretend, can’t she?

She can pretend that Rachel’s still with her, and she’s singing as Quinn’s grabbing coffee and getting ready for another day of work. She can pretend that Rachel’s voice is a little raspy from when she’d screamed out Quinn’s name over and over last night, so she makes the brunette some lemon and honey tea as she waits for her java to percolate. She can pretend that Rachel pecks her lips quickly in thanks when they walk out onto the balcony and look over the city in the early morning hours.

Their city. Their time...

“I’m so glad you came to New York with me... You have no idea how amazing it is for you to be here with me.”

The wine in the glass is nearly all gone now, but Quinn makes no move to refill it. She’s been sucked into the music, the memories...

Rachel coming back to their condo late at night, after a long day at work, and just falling into their bed, snuggling up to her lover, and passing out.

Rachel singing softly while looking at Quinn with a slight twinkle in her eye as she makes up the wrong lyrics to some of Quinn’s favorite songs.

Rachel grabbing her hand and pulling her away from her work, into the living room, where they dance to the music of their heartbeats, beating together as one.

Rachel’s sighs, in the dark of the night, as Quinn laps at her essence, her heavenly nectar, her ambrosia, and brings her to the heights of ecstasy.

She wonders how something so sacred could damn her to hell... how something that sooths her soul can also wrench a knife into her heart. She wonders why she took it all for granted, once upon a time.

She can feel her cheeks, but she makes no move to dry them. The tears run down her face, and she can no longer feel their individual paths as they travel to their ultimate destination, only to soak into Rachel’s sweatshirt.

It doesn’t smell like Rachel anymore. Quinn hates that nothing smells like Rachel anymore.

Quinn hates a lot of things now, but the thing she hates the most?

Is that, no matter how perfect Rachel’s voice is with that perfect sound system that they purchased together, it’s still nothing compared to the real thing.

“Hey, Love.”

“Mmmm... Whyyyyy are you calling me at... what time is it?”

“11pm. So, with the time difference... 2 am.”

“And you woke me up because...?”

“I missed your voice.”

“I miss sleep.”

“Does sleep give you mind blowing orgasms?”

“Well, no... but sleep doesn’t wake me up either.”

“Touché. Keep me company as I drive back to the hotel?”

“Okay...”

“So how are you, hun?”

“I miss you, too, Rachel. A lot.”

“Oh? What do you miss about me?”

“Mmmmm...”

“You’re taking quite a while to think of things you miss about me, Miss Fabray.”

“I miss your smile, because it lights up my day and sends butterflies to my stomach. I miss your laugh, because... it’s magical, and it always brings a smile to my face. I miss your eyes, because I can see everything you feel through them, and I can always see how much you love me when you look at me. I miss your fingers linking with mine. I miss your hair, and how it tickles my nose when I spoon you at night...”

“You’re quite romantic when you’re sleepy. I should wake you up more often!”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Alright, alright, sleepyhead! Keep going, though.”

“I miss your body, and how it molds together with mine perfectly. How it’s so responsive to my touch. I miss your lips, and how soft they are when they touch mine. I miss your silly bunny food, and your silly obsession with my eating of bacon...”

“It’s not bunny food! I keep telling you that!”

“I miss you telling me that it’s not bunny food.”

“Hmph.”

“But most of all, I miss your voice. I miss you singing in the shower, I miss you humming when you’re washing the dishes, I miss you practicing runs at ungodly hours of the morning...”

“Oh, baby... soon! The filming will be over soon, I promise.”

“I know... I miss it when you sing me to sleep when I’m tired.”

“Do you want me to sing you to sleep right now?”

“... that’d be really nice, actually.”

“Okay. We’ll do some of those Beatles people that you like so much.”

“They’re classic!”

“I guess that’s true.”

“...”

“Quinn?”

“Sorry, I was yawning. Are you going to sing?”

“Yeah. Just don’t fall asleep on me too quickly.”

“Sure, okay, no problem...”

“Here we go...”

“I’m excited!”

“I know you are. Now shut up and let me sing.”

“Shutting up.”

“As I write this letter...”

“Ooo!”

“What did I say about shutting up?”

“Right. Keep singing!”

“Send my love to you. Remember that I’ll always be in love you. Treasure these few words ‘til we’re together! Keep all my love forever! P.S. I love you...”

“You, you, you!”

“Goofball.”

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Keep singing?”

“I’ll be coming home again to you, love, and ‘til the day I do, lov–”

“...”

“...”

“... Rachel?”

“...”

“Baby, this isn’t funny...”

“...”

“Rachel, are you okay? Please answer me...”

“...”

“Rachel??! Oh my God, Rachel!”

“...”

And she’ll never have the real thing again, no matter how hard she tries.

WHAT HAPPENED TO SOCKS?!

vsquared_k — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 06:34:16 GMT

This is my sadface :(

I miss Sockville, and her !! comments!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pretty in pink? More like Punky in Pink.

vsquared_k — Sun, 14 Aug 2011 18:07:34 GMT

Fan art under cut

A Spark of an Idea

vsquared_k — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 11:36:28 GMT

Title: A Spark of an Idea
Rating: G
Length: <1000
Spoilers: Quinn has Pink Hair.
Summary: Just a little drabble to secure my headcanon as to why Quinn has pink hair. Includes Fabang nerdy bromance, and Cobray friendship-by-association. Very inspired by this.
Warning: Tons and tons of references to a certain subculture I used to be a part of.
A/N: It's 7:34am. I haven't slept. I was supposed to be sleeping... or studying. Instead I bring you this, unbetaed, and it totally makes sense in my mind. Ignore the fact that Quinn's a little OOC... it's the bromance.
A/N2: If cajoled, I might be inclined to continuing this, but I highly doubt it. I'm loopy on lack of sleep.

“Dude!”

“I know!”

“That was seriously amazing!” Quinn smirked, turning to slap Mike in the shoulder. He winced, rubbing it gently; the slapping was really starting to get out of hand. A giggle could be heard from behind them, where Tina was watching.

“You guys are so weird...”

“I don’t think you fully understand, Tina.” Mike nodded at Quinn’s words as the blonde waved dismissively over her head. “Lightning is, like, the coolest badass character ever.”

Tina let out a well-intentioned sigh, used to their antics by now. “He’s still just a character.”

Quinn and Mike whirled around so quickly, Tina didn’t even have time to blink. “SHE!”

“Sorry!” She attempted to hide her giggle behind her hand, but failed. “You two and your video games...” She rolled her eyes. “Let me know when you finish, so we can get back to teaching me how to poke men... or whatever that cute-animal-ball thing is.”

Mike looked incredulously at Quinn, who just shrugged. “She’s your girlfriend.”

“At least I have a girlfriend, Fabray.”

“Low blow, Chang. Low blow.” Sliding her butt forward from her seat on the hardwood floor, Quinn leaned her head back onto the seat of the sofa. “But, like, it would be so awesome to be badass like Lightning!”

“Snow’s pretty cool.”

Quinn shook her head. “Not like Lightning... I mean, I thought I had a girlcrush on Tifa, you know? But, man, is Lightning hot or what?” Mike bobbed his head, silently allowing Quinn to mull through her thoughts.

“What I wouldn’t give to be like Lightning... even just for a day.” Quinn sighed wistfully.

“I still think Kadaj is better...”

“He’s evil! And he’s not even in any of the games!!”

Tina watched quietly from her spot in the kitchen as the two in the room started bickering about characters and storylines and nuances and other things she was sure would fly right over her head. Shaking her head fondly, Tina walked over to the fridge for the juice she’d gotten up to get in the first place. However, as she reached over to open the refrigerator door, a note on the calender caught her eye.

Matsuri Con - scribbled on August 19th, with an arrow scrawled through to the 21st. That was soon! She’d heard them talking about going to a nerd convention of some sort, and Quinn had lamented not having anything fancy to wear. Something about how Mike had it easy, he could just take off his shirt and be... time leap Sauce K (Potassium sauce? From Bananas?) or something, but it was hard for Quinn to find people like her to dress up as.

“Lightning is probably the best female Final Fantasy character of all time, and if you really think Aeris holds a candle to Lightning, you have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Aeris was a healer! And she was elegant and delicate!”

“Key word, ‘was’, Chang. Spoiler Alert! Aeris dies! She turns Cloud Strife emo!!”

Tina smirked, plan forming in her head... Quinn’s new hair didn’t work with her current wardrobe; even Kurt had said as much on the last day of class. And Quinn wanted to be badass... like Lightning, from that game. Maybe it was time for Quinn to have a whole new look entirely.

Starting with some pink hair dye, and a little shopping spree, courtesy of one Tina Cohen-Chang.

Fin

Unspoken Words (3/?)

vsquared_k — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 03:31:17 GMT

Title: Unspoken Words
Rating: PG (this one)/NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: AU after Journey
Summary: Futurefic! Rachel knew it wasn't wise to take a shortcut through dark New York alleys late at night, but it was late, and she was drunk, and really, really had to get home.
Pairing: Eventually Faberry
Warning: Angst! ANGST!!!

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Monday was a miserable day for Quinn. With the office in complete flux from the retired CEO, she wasn’t able to get a day off from work to stay with Rachel. The Berry men would not allow her to take a sick day, and seeing as the doctors planned to keep the unconscious brunette sedated for a little while longer (to at least allow her wounds to close again), Quinn knew they were right. She ignored the thinly veiled back handed insults from the female coworkers about how tired and slovenly she looked, trudging through her day by sipping on coffee and focusing solely on her work.

Hours later, Quinn looked up at a light knock on her door, mouth set in a thin line. The distraction took her away from her project which, in turn, took precious time away that she could use finishing and leaving early, which took away from seeing Rachel. She could see the chief financial officer standing at her door, eyebrows set in worry.

“Are you okay, Quinn?” She shook her head slightly, knowing that the man would understand. Walking in, he shut the door behind him before walking over to the seat in front of her desk. “What happened to the Quinn I saw on Friday?”

A deep breath. A pause. “That Quinn... she’s gone for a while.” She swallowed. “An old... fr- uh, classmate of mine was hurt... because of something I did.” A tightlipped smile accompanied a furrowed brow, and Quinn licked her lips. “I... I had no idea my actions could have such horrible consequences. Her life is completely ruined, and it’s all my fault.”

“Well, you’re young, so it’s a good time to learn it, I’d say.” He smiled tightly at her, not sure what to do with the obviously distraught woman. “I’m sorry about your classmate, but I know you, Quinn. You’re probably putting too much blame on yourself.”

She shook her head furiously. “Nothing’s ever going to be right for her ever again, and I feel so horrible about it.”

He tweaked her chin with his hands. “Buck up, kiddo.” She attempted a smile, looking away from his compassionate eyes. “I’ve got good news for you, yeah? Meet me in my office in five minutes. Maybe after I finish telling you, you can take the rest of the day off... celebrate, maybe. Meet up with some old friends, drink a few beers.” He smiled warmly at her, missing how her face paled at the mention of drinking, before getting up to leave.

“Yes... sir.” The door clicked shut with a sort of finality. Quinn stared, unblinkingly, at her desk for a couple minutes before she organized her desk, needing something to do before she headed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even before Rachel’s eyes opened, she’d known something was off. She remembered, from the last time, she was in the white room with the white curtains and the white sheets and the disgusting medicinal smell. She wasn’t well. And there was something drastically wrong with her throat.

She went to move her arm, and felt resistance. She tugged harder, and was just as unsuccessful, except for the sound of stretching leather.

“Rachel?”

Her eyes flew open. Dad.

She turned to the side of her bed, and saw her fathers. Peter. Abraham. She opened her mouth to greet them, eyes narrowing when nothing came out. She tugged again at the restraints she had on her wrists, frowning.

“Hi there, Rachel.” They were... smiling. But they weren’t happy. She could read them, she could, after all these years. She’d missed them, but they had their own lives in Lima and...

Why were they in New York?

Why were they crying?

Rachel worked her fingers upwards, wiggling them futilely, hoping they’d notice. But they were staring so intently at her face that they didn’t realize that she wanted someone to hold her hand. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her frown turned even lower.

They would know, right? They’d know what’d happened to her throat that made it so itchy and painful, so that even breathing was a chore. They’d explain it all, right?

“You’re going to be okay.” Peter’s hand stretched out, tentative and shy, before his fingers caressed Rachel’s cheek lightly. Rachel sighed soundlessly as she leaned into his hand, eyes fluttering closed. If he said so, if daddy said so, everything was going to be okay.

He’d never been wrong before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn sat in a taxi, cab full of miscellaneous boxes, each box meticulously labeled with company names and dates, or full of personal affects. She got the permission to take her work home from her office, and knew she’d have all the time she wanted to take care of it all. ‘Stay on top of the market,’ they’d said, and if she hadn’t already been so frazzled, she would have laughed. Quinn had always been able to see the trends before they happened, which had helped her reach the position that she had in such a short amount of time.

Now all she’d have to do was analyze data sent to her from the main office from her home office. She could practically do that in her sleep.

The cab driver was kind enough to help her unload her boxes onto the side of the road outside her building, and she somehow enlisted security’s help in bringing them to her unit, and once she’d gotten everything piled in the corner by her desk, she’d just grabbed her keys and left again.

She hadn’t seen Rachel in over twelve hours. That was too long.

Who knew how much had changed since the last time she’d seen her?

A lot could change over twelve hours...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liars.

They were both liars.

She lay in the bed, tightlipped and barely breathing, as the doctor came in and explained what had happened to her. That she’d been assaulted in an alleyway (she knew that) and that someone had called (the... blonde?) and that she wouldn’t ever be able to sing again.

She wouldn’t much be able to talk again either.

At the doctor’s words, she pulled so strongly on her restraints that she’d pulled herself nearly out of the bed itself. And when an orderly had come to help her, she’d kicked him. Repeatedly.

Her mouth opened and let out a kind of gargling noise. She was certain that it was meant to be a scream. She was certain, at some point in her life, that scream would have burst an eardrum and broken a window or two.

Instead she made that gargling noise. She made it until she had no more air to bubble through the mess in her throat, and then she just sat on her bed, mouth wide open in a silent scream, arms tied to the sides of her bed, tears burning trails down her cheeks. She screamed in her mind like she’d never screamed before. Like she’d never needed to before.

Like she never would again.

All her fathers could do was watch her weep. They watched as their broken daughter broke further. They knew that if they so much as touched her, she’d break further. They might never have her again.

Without her voice, what did Rachel have to live for?

WIthout her words, who was Rachel Berry, gold star?

She wanted so much to be free of the bed, free of the leather restraints, free of the nightmare that her life was becoming.

She had a future. She had one, and now it was gone. It was gone, and now she had this gaping darkness in place of it, where nothing, nothing, was anything like what she’d known since her birth, and who’s fault was that? What was she going to do?

How was she going to survive?

The door was thrown open, and heels clattered into the room, before a gasp was let out.

“Rachel...”

She didn’t bother to turn towards the new voice. This wasn’t how she wanted people to see her. Broken. Defeated. Lost.

She didn’t think she’d ever be found again.

Then a touch, a light one. On her hands. She wrapped her fingers around the support there, and turned, slightly, to look at their hands. Pale mixed with tan, and she was surprised...

She couldn’t see.

Was she going blind too? Everything was blurry and wet.

TBC

I Plead the Fifth (We the N.I.C. bitch, the Nerds in Charge) (2/?)

vsquared_k — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 03:56:11 GMT

Title: I Plead the Fifth (We the N.I.C. bitch, the Nerds in Charge)
Rating: T, cuz swearing :O
Pairing: Faberry
Words: W<2000, where W is Wordcount
Summary: What Quinn doesn’t tell anyone is that her family’s a little group of intelligent math freaks, and they have nerd down to a science. The only problem is that Quinn’s not so good at math.
Warning: Contains math and nerdiness galore.

Two days later, Rachel returned to the Fabray household, and they’d set up camp on the floor of the twins’ room, Tetra having been seated at her desk on the other end of the spacious room, headphones sitting neatly on her ears. Turning to the bag that sat beside her, Rachel pulled out several leafs of paper, and a pad of lined paper, handing it over to Quinn. “Now, I’ve prepared a pre-test, so that I can see what concepts you need reinforcements in. I won’t be timing you, but remember that I’m typically only here for two hours twice a week.” Quinn nodded, barely listening, her mind already reeling from the number of equations Rachel had in mind for her to answer already. “Today’s special, since last week.... we’ll forget about that. But we have double time today.”

“You could just pretend that we do all this, and you could go home, you know, Berry.” Quinn already had a feeling she knew Rachel’s answer.

Rachel shook her head. “You do know, Quinn, that if you continue to do badly in calculus, that you’ll end up being kicked form all your extra-curricular activities, right?” Quinn nodded resignedly, trying not to pout “Right. So if I am capable of raising or maintaining your calculus mark, we’ll have no problem keeping you in Glee club.” Rachel beamed at her. “I have an investment in your mark.”

“She’s invested in you, Quinnie!” Tetra remarked, smirking. “Maybe she can get some dividend!”

“Go to hell, Tetra.” Quinn was mortified when Rachel brought a hand up to hide a giggle. “Oh, hell no, Manhands, you don’t get to laugh at my expense.”

“She doesn’t have manhands either.” Rachel turned to the other blonde, a large smile spread on her face. “It’s not very nice to be cruel to someone who, in all intents and purposes, can ruin you at school.”

Rachel’s smile fell slightly, confused. “How?” Tetra raised an eyebrow, pointing at herself. Rachel just smiled self-deprecatingly. “No one would believe me anyway. Now, you can take as long as you’d like on this.” Quinn groaned, knowing Rachel was going to force her to write the pretest. The brunette didn’t disappoint, pointing at the reams of paper in Quinn’s hand with a smile.

“When you finish, let me know!” Rachel pulled out a novel, flipping it to a dog-eared page. Quinn sighed, pulling out a pencil and a calculator to work on the questions.

The room settled into a kind of silence that was broken by pages turning, humming, the whine of music from Tetra’s headphones, and the frequent groans of Quinn as she hit upon a question she didn’t quite understand.

Two hours into the session, Tetra had gotten up, evidently having finished the work she’d been doing at her own desk, and left the room. Rachel had dog-eared the book and had pulled out blank scoresheets, working out arrangements to songs she meant to present to Glee club.

Quinn was still over a page from finishing, but, with her furrowed brow, it was obvious she was working quite diligently.

“Rachel?” The mentioned girl turned to see Tetra at the doorway, bemused smile on her face. A quick headshake from the brunette stopped any snarky comment that the girl had been about to make at the expense of Quinn’s concentration. Instead, Tetra asked if Rachel was interested in staying for supper.

“Alright. If you’d like, I can stay longer, since Quinn seems to be just about finishing.” Tetra nodded, heading back down to let Judy know.

“Just about finishing my ass, Berry! What did you put into these equations? Steroids?” Rachel looked at Quinn incredulously, clearly disappointed.

“You do realize all I did was take questions from the ends of the chapter questions, right?” Quinn blanched. “I fiddled with a couple numbers, but I made them easier, Quinn.” Quinn gaped, unable to respond. “You evidently haven’t been doing your work.”

“I... don’t have time?”

Rachel scoffed. “And I do? With my multiple clubs, lessons, and now, tutoring, I’m still capable of staying on top of my school work. Being busy isn’t an excuse for you, Quinn.” Quinn looked away. “You’re a smart girl, Quinn. You’re near the top of the class in just every other subject, so we’ll just catch you up, all right?” Rachel ignored Quinn’s huff about it being impossible, instead grabbing Quinn’s finished sheets, intent on marking them.

Quinn sighed half an hour later, looking up to see Rachel frowning at the page.

“Where exactly were you going with this question?” Quinn shuffled over, glaring at the question that Rachel was pointing at. “You’re... off.”

“Evidently.” Quinn’s retort was emotionless, somehow not showing her internal trepidation over the number of red marks on the page.

“Not to say your methodology is incorrect, it’s just... you keep forgetting negatives, and sometimes you just forget to add or subtract numbers. Simple things like that.” She looked back at the page. “Oh, and you forget about brackets all the time.” Rachel narrowed her eyes. “And you don’t understand the concept at all.”

“Okay, thanks. That’s...” Quinn sighed, defeated. “I suck.”

“Evidently.” Tetra walked in with a flourish and a massive grin on her face.

“Shut up!!” Rachel’s eyes widened as Quinn got more and more irate. “Why do you always just... God! I hate you!”

“The feeling is mostly mutual, Twinnie Quinnie.” Tetra laughed as she ducked the eraser meant for her face. Rachel watched the exchange in morbid fascination. “Supper’s ready in about five minutes.” She walked back out, leaving the blonde seething.

“I hate her. I hate her face, I hate her attitude, and I hate her predilection for large words.” Rachel turned back to her and watched as she clenched and unclenched her hands, face red in both embarrassment and rage.

“You...” Quinn whipped her head up, glaring at the brunette. “Never mind.” Rachel had to fight a smirk, the hypocrisy of Quinn’s previous statement obviously flying over her own head. Though, now that Rachel thought of it, this explained quite a lot about why Quinn was so incredibly cruel to her all the time...

Getting up, Rachel smoothed out her skirt before looking down at the blonde, still grinding her teeth in anger. “Come on, Quinn.” Quinn huffed out an angry sigh, before getting up herself. “Do you think your mother’s made a vegan alternative?”

“She-who-must-not-be-mentioned-in-my-presence-right-now is vegan too,” was ground out. Rachel just giggled as Quinn stomped off to freshen up for the meal, muttering obscenities under her breath.

*****

“So, Rachel, how’s Quinnie’s math coming along?” Quinn looked at her mother, shocked.

“Mom! I told you not to call me that in public!” Judy raised a perfect blonde eyebrow, as if to say, “We’re in my house, I can call you whatever I want.” Quinn sighed, poking at her grilled zucchini risotto.

Rachel swallowed, smiling politely. “This is absolutely amazing, Mrs. Fabray!” Judy smiled, nodding. “Well, Quinn’s got a little ways to go, but with my help, she’ll be doing just fine in no time.”

“Oh, I certainly hope so!” Quinn groaned, lowering her head onto her hands. She could recognize a Fabray rant from a mile away. “Fabrays come from a long line of mathematics. For her to be bad at math... that’s breaking the Fabray way...”

*****

“I had no idea...” Quinn looked up at Rachel from her seat on the floor as she flopped down on Quinn’s bed.

“No idea about what? How freakish my family is?” Quinn sighed, before gathering the pages of the test and thrusting them, crumpled and creased, in Rachel’s direction. “Look, I don’t really want to see your face anymore, so can you go now?”

“I.. guess I can mark these at home?” Rachel looked at Quinn, bewildered, as Quinn threw things from the floor into Rachel bag.

“Great. Have a nice night. Or don’t, because you’ll be marking math and shit, but... bye!” Rachel turned to look over her shoulder as Quinn pushed her down the hall, certain she’d left something in the room.

“You’re... kind of a mean person.”

“That’s not new information.”

Rachel laughed. “No, it’s not.” She slipped into her shoes before staring at the blonde. “You’re insane.”

“If you had to grow up with this family, you would be too.” Quinn crossed her arms, waiting impatiently. “Are you leaving yet? I’ve been subjected to your nose for too long today.”

“You were staring at the page the whole time.”

“Your nose was distracting me from focusing on the monotony of math.” Rachel stared at her, confused.

“Ignore her.” Tetra walked over, a pen in her hand. “She’s trying to blame anyone that isn’t herself so that she can feel better about failing at life.”

Quinn’s brow scrunched together before she turned around. “Make sure she leaves, T.”

“Yes, Twinnie Quinnie, whatever you say!” The answering growl was swallowed up by Rachel’s squeal as Tetra handed her the black metal pen, embossed with small gold stars. “That’s not ours... I figured it was yours.”

Rachel nodded emphatically. “You assumed correctly. That is my favorite pen, and I had a feeling Quinn had passed over something important while helping me pack...”

Tetra laughed. “Help is an overstatement.” Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Do you, by any chance, like Star Wars?” Rachel nodded, still confused. “Because I have tickets for the Star Wars original three marathon on Saturday night...”

Rachel gawked at her. “Are you asking me out?”

Tetra winked. “Do you want me to be?” Rachel’s jaw dropped open as her cheeks turned pink. Tetra smirked as Rachel’s lips flapped open and closed. “In all seriousness, I’m not. My not-date-like companion seems to have had something come up the day of, so now I’m scrambling to find someone to take with me so that I’m not all alone with a bunch of fellow nerds.” Tetra shrugged. “You were the first person that isn’t family that I’ve seen since I found out, so you were the first logical choice.”

Rachel blinked at her.

“Think of it as an apology for you having to put up with that heathen of a sister.”

Rachel stared.

“I’ll buy you vegan ice cream afterwards? At Joe’s?”

Rachel’s eyes lit up, and she nodded emphatically. “It’s a not-date! Expect me in full garb!”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Midget

vsquared_k — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 09:16:49 GMT

Title: Midget
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Faberry
Words: 1000+
Summary: Crack!fic. Rachel is small everywhere. In which Quinn is a dick about Rachel's dick.
Warning: The warning is actually kind of, uh, a twist. So, like, if you really want to see, highlight: Girl!Peen

Quinn was always amused by how authoritative Rachel was in the bedroom. So it was no surprise to her when her girlfriend pushed her up against her bedroom door, lunging up on her toes to thrust her tongue into her mouth. Smiling into the kiss, Quinn laced her fingers through her hair, groaning as Rachel bit down on her bottom lip before laving it with her tongue.

“Can you... I need...” she hissed, and Rachel, as usual, just smirked, fingers skimming under her shirt. Quinn just whimpered as Rachel’s fingers skirted higher, scratching lightly at porcelain skin until they ghosted softly beneath the swells of Quinn’s breasts. Just as Quinn opened her mouth to finally finish vocalizing what she needed, Rachel ground her front into her, fingers sliding under the bra to tweak the nipple just so, causing Quinn’s head to loll forward with a hiss.

“Oh God.”

Quinn reached between them, knuckles scraping on Rachel’s stomach as her fingers fumbled with her own pant’s buttons, in hopes that Rachel would understand her non-verbal cue. She needed the brunette to understand that she just couldn’t wait anymore. They’d been playing the teasing game for months, and Quinn really really needed Rachel to know that she was perfectly fine with losing both the game, her soberginity and her girlginity, if that even made any sense. “I need you inside...”

Rachel pulled back slightly, fingers out and toying with the bra clasp. “Are you sure?” Quinn nodded erratically, biting back her moan when Rachel finally released her breasts from their confines. “In that case, you’re wearing entirely too much clothing.” She took several steps back, sitting down on her mattress. “Strip for me.”

Not even two seconds after Rachel’d said the last syllable, Quinn stood on Rachel’s carpet, in Rachel’s room, with nothing on but Rachel’s underwear (from the last time they’d almost fucked, but Quinn had ended up masturbating for Rachel to see... it’d been a prize of sorts, apparently).

“You’re beautiful.” Quinn really loved how Rachel didn’t mince words in the bedroom, because while she loved her girlfriend’s voice, she wasn’t sure how much verbosity she could take in the bedroom. “Turn for me.” And so Quinn turned, slowly, as it wasn’t the first time Rachel’d asked this of her (the first time had been an unmitigated disaster, what with Quinn turning much too quickly and attempting to cover everything she felt was too embarrassing, like her stretch marks). And then, when Rachel’s eyes seemed to glaze over, Quinn quickly stalked over to Rachel’s computer and hit play.

The strains of some song started up, and Quinn rolled her hips in time with the music, watching as Rachel reached into her pocket with her hand, face turning a little red. “So sexy, babe.”

Quinn would have it, this time. It would happen.

She would get some cock up in her pussy if it was the last thing she did today.

She fully intended for it to be the last thing she did all day, and hopefully it’d be the first thing she did tomorrow too.

Quinn stepped forward slowly, being sure to tease Rachel by inching her panties down, toying with them. She loved getting her girl worked up like this, and she was sure that it would work in her favor this time.

She knew Rachel had a cock, and had absolutely no problem with it. It made their sex lives more exciting. At least, it would have, if they were having sex... and if Rachel would let Quinn see her penis.

Apparently all her de-feminizing comments had wrecked Rachel’s self-image, and while she’d done everything she could to help... Rachel still wouldn’t let her see it.

Quinn decided, this time, to take charge herself. She slowly lowered herself onto the lap of the singer, smirking as Rachel’s breathing hitched. The blonde leaned forward, whispering huskily into Rachel’s ear. “I want you. I want you inside me.” Rachel swallowed before scooting back slightly before the blonde could grind down.

“I-This... isn’t the best idea.” Quinn smirked, slowly crawling forward. Rachel’s eyes widened, scooting back until her hand skipped over the edge of the bed, causing her to fall completely onto her back. Quinn’s smirk intensified as she pinned Rachel with one hand, the other lowering between Rachel’s legs. “Th-this really isn’t a good idea.”

“I think it’s a good idea.” Quinn breathed her words onto Rachel’s lips, causing her to shudder. “Does this turn you on, baby?” Rachel whimpered, squirming. “I bet you’re so hard for me right now.” Rachel closed her eyes tightly, biting her lip to hide her moan as she squirmed under Quinn. The blonde reached between them, cupping Rachel between the legs, before faltering.

Rachel moaned long and loud, but then Quinn sat back a little, groping Rachel’s crotch a little harder, a little more searchingly. Rachel threw her head back over the edge of the bed, biting her lips hard enough to draw blood.

“You are hard for me, right baby?”

“Oh God, Quinn, yes. Yes, so hard.” Rachel was so out of it, so aroused, that she missed the tremor in Quinn’s voice.

“It doesn’t feel like it...” Quinn narrowed her eyes, and in one swift motion, Rachel was suddenly devoid of clothing on her bottom half. Quinn sat there, on Rachel’s calves (her delicious, delicious calves), staring between Rachel’s legs.

Rachel tried to force herself into a sitting position, eyes wide in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“That’s it?” Rachel’s brow met in confusion. “That’s... that’s your penis.” Quinn’s shoulder shook slightly. Rachel’s eyes widened understandingly.

“Oh, well, I know it’s a little small, bu-”

Quinn barked out a laugh. “A little small?” Rachel wilted. “Finn’s fingers are longer than your dick!” Quinn ran her fingers through her hair, completely amused.

“This is why I didn’t want to show you!” Rachel moved to cover her nether regions, but was stopped by Quinn’s hands.

“Wait. I wanna see it more.” Rachel thrashed as Quinn leaned forward to inspect it. “Wow...” Rachel groaned as Quinn’s breath caressed her, soft and warm. “Even Mike Chang’s bigger than you!”

Rachel glared, mildly irritated. “How do you know that?” Quinn waved her off, as if it didn’t matter. “No, seriously, Quinn...”

“Girls talk in the locker room, you know.” Quinn’s finger trailed up Rachel’s shaft, slowly, and Rachel groaned, not sure if the heat on her cheeks was from arousal or humiliation, at this point. “Do you think I’d feel it?”

“Feel what, babe?”

“Your cock. If it was in me.” Rachel whimpered, and Quinn laughed as her cock twitched. “This is actually hilarious!” Rachel shook her head to indicate the negative, attempting to wriggle out from under Quinn. “You’re small everywhere!”

“You’re deplorable.”

“And you love it.” Quinn smirked, watching as the glistening bead of precum grew before slowly tracking a trail down the side of Rachel’s penis. Quinn caught the drop with her finger and brought it to her lips. Rachel groaned, dropping back down onto the bed, as Quinn’s tongue snaked out, snapping up the salty droplet. Quinn smirked down at her before shifting forward, grinding down slightly on Rachel’s crotch.

Rachel didn’t know what was going on. Quinn was simultaneously tearing her down and making her hard, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. So when she felt Quinn’s fingers return, gripping hard on her admittedly small dick, she summoned all her willpower, and pushed Quinn off of her.

“No.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “No?”

Rachel took a deep breath. “No. We’re not having sex.” Quinn pouted. “Not if you’re going to be acting like this.”

“You were enjoying yourself though, if your midget’s got anything to say about it!”

“You were insulting me!” Rachel clenched her jaw, looking at the door behind Quinn. “You’re still insulting me. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t laugh at something I’m quite insecure about.”

Quinn quirked a weak smile. “I’m sorry, babe... it’s just...”

“I know, okay? It’s small.” Quinn was surprised by the slight sheen gathering by Rachel’s eyes. “I’m sorry it’s not enough for you.”

Quinn’s heart clenched, and she moved to gather the singer into her arms, only to have the girl shrug her off. “I’m sorry.” Rachel nodded her acquiescence. “You’re enough for me, I promise.” A shrug.

“At least let me help you get rid of...”

Rachel smiled softly, self deprecatingly. “I’ve got it covered... can you just...”

“You know I adore you, right? Even if you’re a tiny little midget.” Rachel rolled her eyes as Quinn kissed her fingers, pressing them to Rachel’s cheek before getting up.

Rachel barked out a short laugh. “See if I ever make out with you again.”

Quinn bent over, reaching for her bra on the floor. She smirked when she heard Rachel’s gasp... she’d ensured her girlfriend would get the best view, after all. “Good luck with that one, shortie.”

Fin

Note: This wasn't meant to be making fun of G!P, persay, but more the fact that, in every G!P, they're immensely hung. So... I thought a little about that, and what if they were insecure about having a small dick? And this happened. So....... yes.

I Plead the Fifth (We the N.I.C. bitch, the Nerds in Charge) (1/?)

vsquared_k — Mon, 20 Jun 2011 17:10:09 GMT

*****

“Quinnie...”

Quinn let out a tense breath, knowing full well what her mother was doing at her and her sister’s bedroom door. Straightening her back from where she sat at her desk, she looked her mother in the eye, trying her best to seem unafraid. Her mom just stood at the doorway, with her completely unexpressive face... with that wrinkled piece of paper in her hand...

That damned paper.

“I see you saw it...”

“Yes, Quinnie. I actually found it in the trash... why’s that?”

Because I didn’t want you to see it.

“Oh, I must have thrown it out with some of my old work from earlier, as I was cleaning off my desk earlier today.” And Quinn HAD done that, she had purposely thrown out a couple balled up pieces of paper with the stupid thing her mother held in her hand, just so that she’d have a reason to throw it out without getting in too much trouble.

“Quinnie...”

“I told you I didn’t want you calling me that.” Quinn moved to turn away, maybe to get back to pretending to do homework, when-

“How could you receive a 60 in AP Calculus, Quinn?”

Quinn rolled her eyes, sighing defeatedly. “It’s not that big of a deal, mom.”

“You’re a Fabray. Fabrays aren’t bad at math.” Her mom walked in, placing a rigid hand on her shoulder. “Do you-” She sucked in a breath, evidently displeased with whatever she had in mind. “Do you need... help?”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, looking up at her mother, with a clearly uncomfortable expression on her face. “I thought Fabrays didn’t ask for help, either.”

“This is an exceptional case.” Her mother was serious. Oh God. Quinn was so glad Tetra wasn’t around hear this. She’d make fun of her for ages... But she also wouldn’t put it past her sister to bug the room, either, so she’d probably be made fun of for ages anyway...

“So what exactly is it you’re suggesting?” Her mother thought for a moment, then smiled. “Well, you could always ask one of your siblings for help...” Inwardly, Quinn groaned. She might as well read the textbook backwards, while someone was reading her the encyclopedia. “They’re Fabrays, they can do Calculus...”

Quinn shook her head. “Last time I got a lower mark on a math thingy, Monica told me that earning marks are logarithmic.” Quinn glared into the distance just remembering it. She quirked her fingers, air-quoting her eldest sister. “ ‘You work a certain amount and you’re guaranteed a seventy percent, but then you have to work that same amount to boost it to an eighty-five, and that same amount to a ninety and...’ so on or something.”

“Well, that’s true!” Judy cocked her head to the side, evidently confused about what the problem was with that assessment. “What are you trying to say?”

Quinn pursed her lip. “The low mark was on an assignment on logarithms. I still don’t get it.”

“Oh.” Judy obviously didn’t get what the big deal was. Quinn nearly growled, settling for blowing her bangs out of her face in annoyance.

“This family just fills life and conversation with math, and I just... I don’t get it, okay?” It wasn’t fair that everyone, even Tristan and Duane, her two jocky brothers, were amazing at math, and used the stupid concepts as metaphors.

“I know, Quinnie. We all have flaws.” Judy ripped her hand away as Quinn bristled, clearly unamused.

“Get out.” Quinn flinched, before quickly correcting herself. “Please.” Judy sighed, squeezing Quinn’s shoulder as she stiffened. “It’s just a mark, it’s just a class, and you’ll have to get over it, mom. I know I have.” With that, Quinn turned back around on her chair, determined to get something done that night. Judy sighed, determined to fix this.

She’d just have to take things into her own hands... before Russell found out.

*****

“Quinn! I’m sorry I’m late!”

Tetra turned around to face the girl behind her, and raised an eyebrow, confused. “Do I know you?” A flash of hurt ran across the brunette’s face, and the blonde realized she didn’t like that. She decided the best course of action was probably to rectify the small girl’s incorrect assumption. “And... I’m not Quinn.”

The brunette scrunched her brow together in confusion, which Tetra decided was one of the most adorable things she’d ever seen, and opened her mouth to speak. “Then who...?”

“I’m her twin. Her super secret, goes-to-Crawford-Country-Day-Academy-on-an-academic-scholarship twin.” She fiddled with her oxford collar that showed through her jacket, before turning around, blatantly ignoring the flabbergasted look on the petite girl’s face. This was usually her favorite part, the reveal, but for some reason, it just wasn’t all that interesting this time. Probably because there wasn’t enough set up. “So you’re here to see Quinn?”

“Yes, I hope she’s prepped for me coming over!” Tetra pursed her lips, amused by how quickly the brunette jumped from confused to bubbly. “To be honest, uhhh, Quinn’s twin, whatever your name is, I was surprised by the outfit. I was going to say something about how you’ve obviously seen the light of the sexy school girl librarian chic that I have going on, but... you’re not Quinn.”

One breath. She’d said all that in one breath. The blonde had counted. And had obviously forgotten, again, to introduce herself. If Quinn found out, she’d never live it down. “I’m Tetra, the twin.”

“And I’m Rachel Berry! It’s nice to meet you!” Tetra dismissed Rachel’s extended hand as irrelevant in favor of unlocking the front door, beckoning the girl inside. Rachel slowly lowered her hand when it was evident Tetra had no interest in shaking it, and walked in, eyes wide. “Tetra’s an interesting name...”

The girl rolled her eyes, clearly used to the words. “I’m the fourth child.” A shrug. She took off her Mary Janes, and told Rachel that Quinn was probably waiting for her in their room, so why didn’t she just take her up, since she was going there anyway. Rachel just nodded mutely, still a little more than confused.

*****

“What the hell are you doing in my house, Manhands?”

Rachel blinked, even more confused than before. “I... thought you knew.”

Somewhere behind her, in the closet as she changed, Tetra huffed something about how the girl’s hands were anything but manly.

Quinn wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Clearly I don’t. So tell me.”

“Yes, elucidate us on the reason of your visit. And how you even have our address.” Tetra walked out, dressed as casually as Quinn herself was. “Quinn never has anybody over.”

“Bitch, that’s my shirt.” Tetra walked to her side of the room, middle finger extended.

“... I’m your calculus tutor. Didn’t you request me?”

A simultaneous, “WHAT?!” burst out in stereo, and Rachel wasn’t sure where to look first, at Tetra, who was laughing a loud gut-laugh that Rachel just... couldn’t ever see come out of Quinn, or Quinn herself, who was muttering death threats that seemed to include mothers and what sounded like piano wire. And steak knives.

Quinn glared at the brunette when her double finally slowed her laughter. “I don’t need you. I’m fine. I’m doing perfectly fine in the class, and I definitely don’t need you teaching me.”

“Clearly mother dearest begs to differ, Quinnie.”

“I HATE YOU.”

Rachel slowly stepped backwards, towards the door of the bedroom, because it definitely looked like Quinn was going to kill something in the near future, and if that were the case, she really shouldn’t be around for that.

Maybe coming back another time would be advisable...

*****

“Mom!”

“Hey there, Quinn! Who was that at the door early?” Judy Fabray meticulously measured her salt, placing it carefully on the scale, and seemed incredibly oblivious to the girl in the kitchen doorway, practically thrumming in anger, scowl evident on her face.

“Rachel Berry.” Judy tossed her exactly 30 grams of salt into the pot of water simmering at exactly 366.5 Kelvin. There was a thermostat and everything.

“Oh! Your tutor!” Judy smiled, turning after wiping her hands carefully on the tea towel hanging by the sink. “Did you learn anything useful today, Quinnie?”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed in anger. “I. Don’t. Need. Help.” Her fists clenched and unclenched.

Unfazed, Judy started cutting the cauliflower. “I could always tell your father...”

Quinn blanched. He couldn’t find out. He was the person who could never find out that she’s, in all intents and purposes, as far as he was concerned, more than failing math class.

Never mind that she would do well in any math class that wasn’t AP. Never mind that the class average was merely five percent higher than her personal average.

Never mind that she hated Rachel Berry with a passion.

She’d be ostracized. Ostracized by the whole family. This whole bad-at-math thing was just not something a Fabray did. She’d overheard Mike saying once in Glee that his father usually was angry about something to do with his marks... She had wanted to say that she felt his pain, but knew that they would never believe her. She was Quinn Fabray, after all.

Last time, when Russell had found out, she’d suffered through no supper for a week. And silent treatment for twice that. And she was grounded.

Sometimes she wondered if she was adopted, but she had a twin who was a freaking genius, so that couldn’t be true.

She glared at Judy. “You’re playing dirty.” Obviously, she’d learned from the best in that regard.

Judy made a dismissive hand motion with her knife hand, as if to say, “of course I am, Quinnie”, and Quinn sets her jaw in defiance.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But only if you promise not to tell him.” Judy nodded. “And you have to stop Tetra from harping on me for my crappy marks.”

“I’m sure she’ll do that on her own...” Quinn raised an eyebrow in challenge, because she knew that her mother knew that Tetra wouldn’t unless someone who wasn’t Quinn told her to stop. Repeatedly. Judy ignored her again, deciding instead to toss the cauliflower into the pot. “I’ll call Rachel tonight, and tell her that tomorrow, she should come over. And I’m giving her your cell phone number, so you can set up better times and such.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Quinn moved to leave before whirling back around, arm set on her hip. “You do know that mark is far from a fail, right? And that, even if I did fail AP Calculus, it’s not the end of the world?”

“You’re a Fabray, Quinn.” And Judy really didn’t need to say any more than that.

God damn it.

Because, Singer Girl, That's How It's Done (1/?)

vsquared_k — Mon, 16 May 2011 17:54:25 GMT

Title: Because, Singer Girl, That's How It's Done (1/?)
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Quinn, Aphasia
Rating: PG-13, for swears
Summary: Rachel transfers to Jane Addams, and learns badassery from none other than Aphasia. Hijinks ensue... Eventual Faberry.
Word Count: <1000

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEL!!!

This wasn’t supposed to happen to me.
This wasn’t part of the plan.

Rachel Berry sat, motionless, in the back of the police car, watching the blue and red lights flashing in the night. Her wrists chafed uncomfortably against the cold metal of the too-tight handcuffs, but try as she might, she couldn’t maneuver her arms to find any form of relief.

She scowled. If she’d remembered to close her window... If those meddling neighbors hadn’t called in a noise complaint... If her fathers had been home... If she hadn’t missed the doorbell... If this hadn’t been the tenth time this happened.

She was sure this whole situation could have been avoided.

She sighed mightily as other neighbors poked their heads out, curious about the noise and flashing on the street. Technically, the sirens had been louder than she, and much more of a ruckus, but it’s not like her street really cared, the bunch of gossips.

Resting her head on the window with a thunk, she looked out wistfully at her soundproofed room... the dratted window was still open. Her video camera had caught the footage of her arrest, since she’d been recording for her Myspace page when they’d burst in. She’d been surprised, so focused was she on the music, and screamed at the top of her lungs in fear. There had been burst eardrums, and she was sure there’d be a charge of assault on an officer or some other ludicrous claim.

This was going to look horrible on her permanent record! Did Juilliard accept students with criminal records? Surely, since the institution was known for its creative qualities, they’d understand the basis of this ludicrous charge! She’d been preparing for Nationals! Clearly the neighbors had relatives in the opposition, and this was their attempt to sabotage the New Directions.

No matter, she’d explain herself to the police at the station, she supposed.

\o/

Shifting uncomfortably on her new old, thin and lumpy mattress, Rachel was despondent. Not only was a good night’s rest mandatory for her daily ritual, so too was her diet. Apparently she would be unable to maintain either of them at Jane Addams Academy for Girls, seeing as what food they had seemed to be vegan-unfriendly or rotting from the inside.

After years of veganism, she had been unable to stomach the meat products. And now she was on a ridiculous threadbare mattress, and staring at the bed above hers as it creaked and moaned with every twist and turn of its occupant.

It was decided: she hated it here. And she couldn't believe that she was stuck here at least until her fathers returned from their month long vacation in the Bahamas.

With no official guardians, she'd been unable to post bail. The judge had looked at her tiny frame, laughed at the concept of sending her to Juvie, and decided that she just needed to be reintegrated into society at large.

This whole thing was just ridiculous.

To her right, a girl turned over and started snoring. Rachel barely suppressed a scream by biting the tiny pillow. She was nearly certain that she was going to go crazy.

\o/

"You're that good singer girl..."

Rachel looked up to see a thin black girl, puzzled. "Yes?"

"Why'dja come here now? Whatcha in for?"

Rachel blinked. "Excuse me?"

The girl rolled her eyes, scowling. "Did I fuckin’ stutter? Maybe you deaf, singer girl..." Rachel shook her head, eyes wide in fear that she’d offended the girl in front of her. "Maybe you stupid then." It was the smirk more than anything that ruffled her feathers. Rachel narrowed her eyes, but she kept her mouth shut. The girl's smirk just grew. "What," she shrugged emphatically. "Did you," an exaggerated point in Rachel's direction that almost had the diva's hackles rising. The strange girl's brow furrowed in thought and she pursed her lips.

"Get caught doing?" Rachel offered. The stranger nodded, relieved. Rachel couldn't exactly think of a way to sign that either, so she guess she could commiserate.

"Noise complaints. I was apparently disturbing the neighbors."

A massive grin spread across the strange girl's face. "Girl! Get some!!" Rachel broke out in a perplexed smile, confused. “Who was he?” Rachel didn’t respond. “She?”

“Who?”

“You that loud by yourself?”

“Oh, definitely! I find that my voice is allowed to reach it’s full potential whilst solo as opposed to dueting, or in an ensemble.”

The girl in front of her muttered something akin to, “kinky...” under her breath.

“I was practicing my singing...” The girl raised an eyebrow. “Oh, right. How rude of me, I’m Rachel Berry!”

“Name’s Aphasia.” The diva thrust her hand out to shake just as the strange girl extended a fist. Rachel flinched. The girl laughed, grasped Rachel’s hand and closed it into a fist, bumping them together. “Tha’s how we do it at Jane Addams, Singer Girl.”

“What? Why?”

Aphasia cocked her hair to the side, shaking her head with a slight smirk. “Because, Singer Girl, tha’s just how it’s done.”

\o/

Aphasia soon gained an addition. Not that she minded too much, but the new girl had no game, and Aphasia was determined to help her get some. And she wasn’t surgically removable, no matter what Jayelle said.

The other girls, some of them could smell fresh meat from miles away. Sure, she was there for stealing (from banks... and she was damn good at it), but some of these girls fought, cheated... set things on fire, even. The singer girl was definitely going to be decimated if she didn’t step up her game.

First, she had to stop the girl from being massacred by the school’s show choir.

“Stop, Singer Girl.” Rachel stopped ranting at Aphasia’s raised hand. “That’s not how it’s done here.” Rachel’s face fell. “Look, we have ways we do things... You have... your way.”

“This isn’t the type of songs you sing for Glee, Aphasia!”

The other girls all groaned, and the keyboardist looked like she was about to pounce.

“It is here, singer girl. Now sit down, before Chatonja rips you a new one for tryin’ to take her solos.” Rachel sat meekly and Aphasia sighed as most of the girls glared at her. “Look, Singer Girl. We like this place, and we like singin’. Don’t make us not like it, okay?”

“Sorry...”

“No, not sorry. Jus’ don’t do it again.” The other girls all nodded and murmured in agreement at Aphasia’s statement, and a shy smile crept across Rachel’s face.

Maybe Jane Addams wasn’t going to be too bad after all...

Morning Has Broken

vsquared_k — Fri, 06 May 2011 03:33:12 GMT

Title: Morning has Broken
Author: vsquared_k
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: PG
Summary: A prologue to this fic, as prompted by Libby. Shower Fluff.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Title from the song by Cat Stevens.
Word Count: <1000

The sun filtered in through the curtains, dancing delicately upon soft smiles. The two occupants of the bed unconsciously snuggled closer, the blonde’s arms thrown over the brunette’s stomach, fingers entwined over the light sheet. Slowly, the blonde’s hazel eyes opened, blinking blearily at the sudden influx of light. Wrinkling her nose, she burrowed her head into the crook of her lover’s neck, before sighing softly and carefully disentangling herself from the knot formed by their two bodies.

Propping herself up on the bed, she stroked the brunette’s jawline and cheek carefully, smiling down at her. Leaning forward, she left a simple, faint kiss on the brunette’s forehead. The brunette stirred slightly, before turning and clutching at the lingering remnants of the blonde’s body heat left on the sheets. The blonde smiled contentedly before easing out of bed and reaching for her housecoat.

At the door, the blonde looked back at the bed, before turning away, frowning slightly. She hated mornings like this.

---o---

The spray of lukewarm water into her face washed away any vestiges of her sleepiness, causing her to gasp. It was always like that; she always forgot to wait for the water to heat up, and she always paid the consequences. She ran her fingers through her wet hair before reaching for a shampoo bottle, squirting a generous amount into her palm. She hummed to herself softly while working her hair into a generous lather. Mornings meetings were lengthy and bothersome, and she hated how she had to get up alone. She was always tempted to just miss work on days like this.

She hissed softly as the sudsy water made contact with the scratches on her back, squirming slightly. Memories of the night before, with pink plus signs, whispered declarations of eternal devotion and love, and sighs of contentment drifted into the forefront of her memory and she couldn’t help but smile. They hadn’t had a night that passionate for quite a while.

Her humming got louder, her smile, wider. They were getting married. They were having a baby. Life was perfect.

“Quinn?”

Her lover’s sleep-laced voice shook her from her reverie.

“Why are you up, Rach?” Tilting her head back, she rinsed the suds from her hair, reveling in the warmth of the water massaging her scalp.

“S’cold without you.” She could almost hear the pout in Rachel’s voice. She imagined the woman was rubbing the sleep from her eyes, as she usually did now that she’d mellowed out with age. “Why do you have to go to work?”

Quinn chuckled softly, thoroughly amused by her fiancée’s sleep-induced childishness. “It’s just a meeting with the editor.”

“You can’t reschedule?” She heard the clatter of plastic on porcelain and smiled, envisioning the petite brunette sitting, slouched, on the closed toilet bowl lid, head bowed slightly.

“I rescheduled last time. And the time before that...” She picked up the loofah, looking around for her favorite shower gel (starfruit and lemon). “That, and the fans are getting a little antsy.”

“Oh.”

“Is the shower gel out there?” There was some rustling, and then the orange bottle peeked through the shower curtain. She smiled, squeezing the shower gel onto the loofah. “Wanna join me?”

“No, too tired.”

“Lazy pants,” she quipped teasingly, scrubbing her arms.

“You love these lazy pants,” was the retort, and they giggled.

“So you’re just going to sit there?” There was a lengthy pause, and Quinn laughed. “Rachel, honey, you know I can’t see you nodding, right?”

“Oh yeah. Yes, I’m keeping you company.” Quinn smiled.

“I really love you, you know that, right?”

“I should hope so... we’re getting married next month.”

“And we’re having a baby in a little more than half a year.”

She heard Rachel gasp before the shower curtain was thrown open, revealing the brunette, eyes wide and mouth agape in awe. “That wasn’t a dream?” Quinn shook her head. “I love you so incredibly much, Quinn Fabray!”

Rachel reached in, pulling a surprised Quinn into a loving kiss. Quinn smiled, cupping her fiancée’s face with her hand. Rachel squirmed a little before pulling away with a light kiss to the blonde’s nose. “You’re wet.”

“And you’re silly.” Quinn shook her head. “I’m taking a shower... of course I’m wet! Now close the curtain before the floor gets all wet.” Rachel drew the curtains closed, and Quinn laughed.

“I’m all wet.”

“Oh?” Quinn smirked, thoroughly amused by Rachel’s antics.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Quinn. Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean that I can’t punish you.” Quinn’s eyebrow quirked upwards. “Your eyebrows this time, Quinn. I’ll withhold the bacon!”

“Not the bacon!” escaped Quinn’s mouth before she was able to stop herself. The silence that followed was broken by both of them laughing, Quinn supporting herself on the tiled wall. Once the laughter subsided, Quinn switched off the taps and stuck a dripping hand out of the shower curtain. “Can you hand me the towel, baby?” The plush fabric was draped over her protruding arm with a light giggle, and Quinn rolled her eyes adoringly.

She loved her fiancée.

I Can Make You Feel Real Good (4/?)

vsquared_k — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 04:35:54 GMT

Title: I can make you feel real good (4/?)
Rating: PG (this one) / NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 2000+
Spoilers: Duets? Let's just say NBK...
Summary: Based on this prompt:
Quinn and Rachel not quite friends - Quinn finishes cheerleading practice one day with very tight muscles. Rachel gives her a surprisingly amazing massage. Quinn then seeks Rachel out for massages which get more and more heated.
Pairings: Eventual Faberry, with mentions of Fabrevans and Finchel

^{A/N: GUYS GUYS GUYS! Exciting news!! I’m straying from the chapter outline, which means that change is afoot, and things could begin progressing slightly faster (or slower) depending on what happens. Just thought I’d put that out there.}

Quinn was fine with the straddling. She really was. Since she was left boneless and content after the first time, she’d let Rachel straddle her back every time she went there for a massage. She was consistently left boneless and content after every massage thereafter, and it was easier to relax around Rachel every time.

But this time, as Rachel was kneading her lower back, there was a brush of skin on skin contact. She involuntarily seized up, and she knew Rachel felt it too.

“Whoa, Quinn...” She felt Rachel tug the shirt back down. “Sorry, I didn’t notice your shirt had bunched up.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. It’s fine. I just... I dunno.” There was a sigh from Rachel, which made Quinn wince. “Keep going?”

“If you can relax again, sure, I’ll keep going.” Rachel rubbed lightly on Quinn’s back, waiting for her to calm down. Quinn willed her pounding heart to relax, but she only found her breaths getting shallower and faster.

Rachel just climbed off of the blonde. “Ok, no. You’re just... no. I can’t help you if you’re getting tense. Seriously, Quinn. Relax or something!”

 “Sorry... I just... don’t really...” Quinn paused as she sat up, unsure as to how to explain herself.

 “Hmmm?” Rachel dipped her head as she folded her arms across her chest. There was a sarcastically smug look on her face, but Quinn saw hurt in her eyes.

“Nothing...” Quinn bit her lip, trying to look anywhere but Rachel.

Rachel rolled her eyes and spun around, grabbing her things. “Well, that seems to be it for the evening. I’d very much appreciate it if you could drive me home, Fabray.”

“What about Chem?” They had an assignment due the next day, and had only taken a small break from it for the massage... They were very nearly done, but Rachel had needed a mental break from it all.

“The internet is a marvelous resource; I had been using it for quite a while before we came upon this agreement, and I’m sure I can do so again. Now if you could drive me home?” Quinn pursed her lips together tightly and grabbed her keys and jacket. She wasn’t sure why Rachel’s scowl was bothering her so much.

\o/

Quinn’s car idled on the street as she waited for Rachel to get out and walk up the drive to her house. Instead, however, Rachel was sitting silently in the passenger seat, obviously deep in thought, as she had been the whole tense ride over. Almost ironically, light rain had started up partway through the drive over.

“Berry... we’re here.” Rachel’s eyes flicked over to Quinn before she stared ahead again.

“I’m quite aware, thank you, Fabray.” Her hand shot over to the key, turning off the ignition, before she turned to look Quinn in the eye. “But we need to talk.”

Quinn looked at Rachel quizzically. “About?”

Rachel’s jaw hardened into a deeper scowl. “I do you favors by giving you massages, correct?” Quinn nodded slowly, confused. “Well, it’s an equal exchange, really, with the schoolwork help and the drives, but I was doing well enough on my own before...” Rachel shook her head. “That’s not what’s the matter, though. Why is it so difficult for you to relax around me? It’s been over a month, Quinn, and you still can’t relax around me! Why can’t I touch you?”

Quinn sucked in a slow breath, suddenly nervous.

“Is it because I have manhands? Or, I don’t know, I’m a freak with freak germs that will soak into the perfection that is you and leave you freakishly maimed in your social life? Why can’t we be friends, and hang out without the pretense of schoolwork and massages, or without you constantly telling me you dislike my existence? It’d be nice to be appreciated...” Rachel looked out the car window. “I’m sorry, it’s just... I don’t know. You’re the closest thing I have to a friend, Quinn, but it’s obvious you don’t like me at all.” She sighed, and quickly dabbed her eyes on her sleeve. “I just get lonely sometimes, you know?”

Quinn sat silently as Rachel watched the rain, waiting for her to respond. She had no idea how she was supposed to respond to that, really. Rachel moved to leave, shaking her head and muttering under her breath. The sound of the door opening caused Quinn to act.

“It’s not just you.” The words left Quinn’s mouth before she even knew she was going to speak, but her words were swallowed by the slamming of the door. Rachel was already outside, running in to avoid getting too wet from the rain.

\o/

Quinn had an inkling that something was up with Rachel during chemistry class, when she had spoke in terse sentences, and had never actually looked her in the eye, let alone in her direction. She actually figured it out when Rachel hadn’t even stopped to say hello in Glee, like she had for the last month. Instead, the diva had sat off in the corner, staring out at the piano with a sad, contemplative expression on her face.

If the diva wasn’t coming to her, she’d go to the diva, then. She supposed there was some explaining to do, after all. Before she could go to Rachel, however, Santana walked in with Brittany.

“Bitch.” Santana smirked, reaching out to push Quinn’s shoulder provocatively.

“Whore.” Quinn rolled her eyes, completely unamused. The rest of the club ignored the exchange, the odd greeting something they had gotten used to after the initial cat-fight at the beginning of the school year. By now, the words no longer meant anything to them besides general pleasantries.

Their daily ritual done, the two cheerleaders sat flanking Brittany, who smiled and held out her pinky for Santana. Quinn looked behind her at Rachel, who pointedly turned her head away.

Santana reached behind Brittany to tap on the head cheerleader’s shoulder. “Q. Q! What’s up with the midget? Do you need me to do something?”

“She’s not a midget,” was the reply, and when Quinn realized what she’d said, she shook her head. Santana raised an eyebrow, and Brittany tilted her head to the side, confused.

“Are we talking about Rachel?” Quinn nodded slowly. Brittany turned to Santana, “Quinn’s right. Rachel’s not something you can add to our website, San. She’s not computer enough for that.”

Before either of the cheerleaders could voice their confusion, Mr. Schuester walked into the room. Quinn watched as he walked up to the board, marker in hand, ready to give a new assignment.

Her phone buzzed lightly, and she pulled it out.

I’m sorry for my incredibly indecent behavior yesterday. Could I talk to you after school today? I know you have practice, so... - RB* P.S. Did Brittany mean widget?

Quinn looked back at the brunette and nodded twice stealthily. She noticed that Rachel’s fleeting smile didn’t reach her eyes.

\o/

Santana sidled up to Quinn just as she was shedding her top in the locker room, placing her hand on the small of Quinn’s bare back to announce her presence. The blonde twisted away from the contact with a growl. “Don’t touch me, S. I keep telling you that.”

Santana’s hand dropped like a hot brick. “Right. Sorry. Forgot. Like, we haven’t talked properly for a long time, so how was I supposed to know it hadn’t changed?” She smirked slightly, Quinn turning to glare at her. “Who keeps texting you, by the way?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Quinn said, slightly defensive.

Santana raised an eyebrow. “Does Sam know?”

“I’m not cheating on him, it that’s what you’re trying to say.” Quinn closed her locker door and turned around to face the Latina. “I’m pretty sure I learned my lesson the first time, when I got pregnant.”

“That... wasn’t what I was asking, but, okay.” Santana nodded. An odd smile spread across her face. "Britt misses you, you know. We haven’t had a girls’ night for a while.”

Quinn nodded. She’d missed them too. It was about time to remedy that.

\o/

She saw Rachel leaning on the hood of her car and called out a greeting.

“Oh, hello, Quinn.” Rachel stood and straightened her clothes in nervousness. “I... apologize for yesterday. It was completely out of line, and I really shouldn’t have said all those things.” A strained smile, and Quinn was officially feeling like a horrible person. “Besides, it’s not like a month or so can change years of animosity between us. If you so wish it, I’ll be sure to stay out of your way in the future.” The poorly hidden hope in Rachel’s eyes shocked Quinn, and she took a deep breath.

“It’s... not you. It’s me.” Rachel’s eyebrows rose as she smirked, and Quinn winced when she realized what she’d said.

“Care to elucidate me on the meaning of this overly cliche statement in this circumstance? Isn’t it usually used in some form of breakup?”

Quinn bit back a nervous giggle, rubbing her arms. “I... have never told anyone this, but I’m not all that fond of physical... contact.” Rachel’s mouth fell open into a small O. “My mom and dad never really...” Quinn mimed hugging, clearly uncomfortable with her admission. “...So when people do... that... it’s awkward. For me, at least.”

“That would explain a lot, actually.” Rachel nodded understandingly. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll leave you alone from now on, then, I guess. I just hope that we’ll be able to remain civil in the future?”

“No!” Quinn’s eyes widened at her exclamation. “I mean, I want you to touch me...” Rachel gawked at her. “That came out wrong. I have a lot less of a problem if you’re the one touching me then if, say, Sam or Santana touched me.” Quinn bit her lip, slightly frustrated at how nervous she was. Quinn Fabray didn’t do nervous.

Rachel giggled softly. “It sounds dirty no matter how you say it.”

Quinn rolled her eyes, exasperated. “So... are we good?”

Rachel stilled, her face serious. “That depends entirely on whether you think we are.”

“We’re good. I like it when you give me massages. It’s nice.” Quinn walked around Rachel, unlocking her door. “Do you need a ride, Berry?” Rachel smiled gratefully, sliding in beside Quinn in the passenger seat as Quinn turned the ignition.

As per their usual drives, Quinn drove carefully as Rachel fiddled with the radio stations, settling on some random soft rock station. The drive passed quickly, and Quinn couldn’t help but relax at the familiarity of it. There was something niggling in the back of her head from yesterday, but it didn’t hit her until they were parked in Rachel’s driveway.

Rachel was halfway out the car door when Quinn turned to her. “You’re not a freak, Berry.”

Rachel smiled, and Quinn was relieved to see it reach her eyes. “You’re not half bad yourself, Fabray.” When Quinn made no move to get out of the car, Rachel bit her lip. “You coming up for a bit?”

Quinn shrugged, throwing her car into park.

\o/

“So...”

“Yeah...”

They evidently hadn’t really thought anything out. With no pressing schoolwork, and Quinn not really needing a massage, they didn’t know what to do together. That left them standing in the foyer, bags on the floor, staring awkwardly at one another.

“Is there anything you’d like to do?”

“Do you have... Scrabble or something?”

Rachel shook her head vehemently. “That is a remarkably unwise suggestion. Not only am I incredibly competitive... well, I’m incredibly competitive. Dad and Daddy stopped buying board games for me when I accused my dolls of cheating at chess at the tender age of three and a half.”

Quinn laughed. “That’s so... wow. I’d pay to see that!”

“I’m sure fathers dearest have a recording of it hidden away somewhere, but we’ll have to negotiate prices later.” Grabbing Quinn’s sleeve, Rachel led her into the living room, pushing her lightly onto the sofa. “I’ve decided. We’re going to watch a something. What that something will be is entirely up to you, seeing as we have nearly every channel known to man, and I’m sure my eclectic tastes will bore you.”

\o/

Rachel was in the kitchen getting snacks when Quinn settled onto “What Not to Wear”, sitting back on the overly soft sofa.

“Oh! I love this show!” Quinn’s stared at Rachel, in her argyle socks and woolen carousel sweater, as she walked in behind her, and burst out laughing.

“No.”

“I’m serious!” Rachel set down the fruit and tortilla chips placing her arms on her waist. “Aren’t I the perfect candidate?” Quinn just nodded, still laughing. “If someone cared enough to nominate me for the show, Stacy and Clinton aid me in my clothing choice, and then I could be discovered and thrust onto Broadway, because I will have been on national television. They always have a profile on the people at the beginning, you know.”

“Oh God... why didn’t I ever know you were this funny?” Quinn attempted to compose herself, shaking her head. Rachel pouted playfully before plunking herself down on the couch beside Quinn and leaning forward for a grape.

“You know, you could nominate me.”

Quinn nodded. “I should. But not now... give it a couple years. Hopefully your fashion choices will correct themselves before I have to.”

“Not if I want to be on that show, they won’t.”

“Then... in college, if someone doesn’t beat me to it.”

Rachel nodded, placated for the time being.

Several minutes passed before Quinn turned to Rachel, clearly bemused. “Does that mean you dress how you do to get on the show?”

Rachel blushed. “Maybe...”

Quinn pushed Rachel’s shoulder lightly. “Insane is a good look for you, Berry.”

\o/

“Is your mother expecting you home for supper?”

They had moved on from critiquing fashion divas to critiquing music videos, and Quinn was surprised by just how much fun Rachel was outside of school. Time had flown, and before they knew it, the sun was hanging low in the sky.

“Not exactly... but I should be going. It’s getting late.”

Rachel nodded twice, then jumped up. “Don’t go anywhere just yet. I have something...”

Quinn watched Rachel run upstairs, confused, but she soon shook it off as another of Rachel’s peculiarities before turning back to whatever top forty song they had been laughing at.

Rachel soon returned with a box of some sort, handing it to Quinn. “I know you still dislike me and all, but I got you a present, or something.”

 Quinn looked at the box in her hands, not expecting anything at all. “I don’t exactly dislike you... and you didn’t have to, but thanks for... this.”

“I wanted to. In celebration of our first hang out, I guess. I wasn’t sure when would be an appropriate time to give this to you.” Rachel shrugged, but Quinn knew that this had meant quite a lot to Rachel. “It’s a travel hair dryer... cordless even. Since it’s evident you don’t use one, I thought I’d purchase it for you.” Quinn stared. “What you’re doing to your shoulders really isn’t making my job any easier. This is as much for my benefit as it is yours.”

 “I... thank you, Rachel. I... didn’t even know that they made battery operated hair dryers.” Quinn put the box down on the couch before standing and shuffling awkwardly over to Rachel, arms extended.

Rachel angled her head to the side, amused smirk on her face. “What exactly are you doing?”

Quinn narrowed her eyes, glaring at the brunette. “I’m trying to give you a hug, Rachel Berry. Now get over here.” Rachel beamed, stepping into the hug. Quinn swallowed before wrapping her arms around Rachel’s small frame, patting her back awkwardly.

Feeling Quinn beginning to stiffen, Rachel moved out of the decidedly awkward hug, patting her lightly on the shoulder. “You’re welcome, Quinn Fabray. Now go home before your mother gets worried.”

Quinn shrugged, walking to the door. “She wouldn’t, but okay.” The door opened to reveal the most magnificent sunset. “I guess I’ve reached my Rachel quota for the day anyway, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” With a smirk and a wink, Quinn stepped out, leaving Rachel leaning on the doorframe as she drove away.

A/N: The travel hairdryer actually exists, for the record. It's also incredibly expensive... in that I wouldn't buy a hairdryer for that money.

Day of Silence (1/1)

vsquared_k — Tue, 19 Apr 2011 00:54:13 GMT

Title: Day of Silence
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: Up to Special Education
Summary: Rachel takes a vow of Silence
Pairings: None. Aka no Faberry. Let that be a warning to you.

Rachel Berry has two gay dads. This is common knowledge, since she flaunts it and the ACLU whenever she can. Finn complains about how she talks about that enough to Sam that the blonde guy thinks he gets it. No, seriously, he gets it. “It’s not like I have anything against her having gay dads or anything,” Finn would say, “It’s just... could she stop talking about them sometimes?”

Sam doesn’t understand why she has to, since it seems like she loves them. When Finn and Rachel break up and Finn stops complaining about girls not putting out and some of Rachel’s other idiosyncrasies, he’s kind of relieved. Sure, every once in a while, Finn complains about something to do with either Puck or Rachel never shutting up, but that’s normal, right? The guy’s obviously hung up on it, after all.

And it’s not like Rachel’s inconspicuous or anything. She’s clearly not cut from the cloth ninjas are cut from, that’s for sure. So Finn sees her every day (as does Sam), and so Sam always gets to look forward to a quick griping about Finn’s diva of an ex.

So when Finn comes up to him in after first period, talking about how Rachel’s trying to get attention again, and she’s duct taped her mouth for some reason or other, Sam doesn’t really pay attention. He just goes through the motions of bro-dom, and agrees with how that obviously sucks, and Rachel obviously sucks and is an attention seeking whore.

When Sam brings up Rachel and her duct tape with Quinn while ditching in second, talking about how Rachel’s so shallow, because it’s not all about solos or whatever, Quinn chuckles. “It’s that time again, isn’t it?” She pulls out her cell phone, ignoring the fact that Sam really just wants to get his mack on, and calls Santana. “Manhands is on the down low today.... Yeah. Yup. Duct tape and everything. Yeah... same as every year. Cool.” She hangs up and smiles sweetly at Sam before removing his hand from her back. “I have to go, okay, sweetie?” With a swift peck on the cheek, she walks away, leaving Sam bewildered.

He sees Rachel between second and third, duct tape still firmly taped over her mouth, as she careens into the bathroom door, clothes drenched in slushy. Something is written on her cheek, but he can’t make it out all that well, because it’s running and distorted from the liquid sugar dripping down her face. He shivers, because her eyes had been ice cold and furious as opposed to how typically emotive they are. But it’s not his problem, so he keeps going. It’s not like Rachel getting slushied isn’t a regular occurrence at McKinley anyway.

In History class, Mr. Bronson is teaching, and Sam notices Rachel’s hand is strangely absent from in front of him throughout the whole lesson. Usually Rachel answered all the questions, but this time she hasn’t said anything. “Sam. Sam Evans?” Sam snaps out of his daydreaming, and fumbles his way through a question on Pearl Harbor, and Bronson shrugs.

“Rachel Berry, do you have anything to add on that point?” Rachel doesn’t even look up to acknowledge the teacher. Sam can see her hair’s still slightly damp, and she has different clothes on from before. “Rachel, do you want to lose marks on class participation?” There’s a slight head shake, but she stays silent. “Well, if you don’t take that ridiculous duct tape off your face and say something, you’re going to.” The class laughs, and Rachel’s back straightens. She doesn’t take off the tape. Mr. Bronson gives up after a while, but he’s sneering like the rest of the class is.

The next class Sam has with Rachel is just like history. Rachel’s late, her clothes are different again, and her eyes are turning stony. She doesn’t respond to the teacher, nor does she even attempt to respond to anything anyone says. Miss Green sends Rachel to the office when she refuses to read the next paragraph, for insubordination or something. Rachel doesn’t even argue, just getting up and collecting her things. As she walks down the aisle, she trips on Karofsky’s foot and lands with a crash on the floor. Sam sees him kick her in the stomach, and the muffled groan is hidden by the laughter of the class. Rachel clutches at her stomach as she glares at the burly jock before fleeing the room.

Sam doesn’t really get it, because it’s going a little far, so after class, he stops Karofsky by grabbing his arm before he leaves the room. “What the hell, man! Hitting girls?”

“You sure she’s even a girl? Your girlfriend seems so sure she’s an it.” Karofsky wrenches his arm free. “Besides, she’s doing that stupid silence for fags thing again this year. She should expect this by now.” Sam’s so shocked he lets the guy go.

At lunch, he sits next to Quinn and her salad. Usually Rachel’s sitting in the same corner when he sits down, speed-eating so that she can get some practice in. Her spot is covered in garbage and food, and Sam just doesn’t understand what’s going on anymore. He decides, because evidently Quinn’s in on it, to ask his girlfriend what exactly’s going on.

“It’s a Rachel free-for-all today,” she says with a shrug. “Every year, since middle school, to show her... support and acceptance for that horridly unnatural lifestyle her sin-ridden excuses for parents live, she duct tapes her mouth closed for the day. So we do whatever we want to her.” She smiles serenely at him, and, not for the first time, Sam’s a little scared of his girlfriend. “Do you have a problem with it, Sam? Because if you do, I’m not sure I can be seen eating lunch with you.”

Sam swallows, but tells her he doesn’t have a problem with it, because even if he had gay friends in his old school, he’s still the new kid, and he has his fledgling reputation to protect. Rachel’s evidently used to this, so he’s sure she can deal. At least, he hopes so.

When he sits in the seat next to the one Kurt used to occupy in French, the one that’s been empty since the kid transferred to that boy’s school, Dart-on or something, he can’t help but think that maybe Rachel had an ally last year. Maybe. Maybe Kurt stood up for her... maybe Mercedes, this year, is silently cheering her on... Except he’s sure he saw the girl laughing the last time he saw Rachel rush away from the umpteenth slushy to the face earlier.

Has Rachel always been alone like this? He can’t help but feel sorry for the girl. But if she had a problem with it, wouldn’t she have stopped this madness years ago? It’s her problem, isn’t it? He doesn’t have to get involved at all...

Except, the next time he sees her, it’s not slushy in her hair, or colored ice soaking through her shirt. This time, it’s too far, and there’s muffled sobs, and she’s in the risers during gym class, covered in porta-potty filth. He hesitates, looking around before loping over to ask her if she’s okay. When she looks at him, with her watery eyes full of sadness, he swears he can see her battered resolve on its last legs, and it pulls at his heart. But then she looks down, and his friends are calling him away.

He wonders when he became such a coward, but doesn’t look back at her as he goes to join them.

He’s in math when he gets a text message from Rachel. He scowls at his phone, because she says that she’s used to it, and that she’s fine, really.

Before he can think about what he’s doing, he’s firing off a message asking her why she puts up with what she does, day after day, year after year.

My dads made me who I am, and they taught me to be who I am. I’m not going to stop just because some small-minded people won’t accept that.

He doesn’t understand.

I don’t expect you to. But I want to show people how proud I am that they’re my dads. They’ve done so much for me, and this is the least I could do, really...

He thinks she’s brave, and tells her so. He wishes he could do something to help. However, her response to this is discomforting, and he’s not sure how he feels about this whole fiasco anymore.

Don’t do anything on account of me, Sam. I wouldn’t want you to go through this too. It’ll all be back to normal tomorrow anyway.

And then it’s time for Glee, but Sam’s almost as late as Mr. Schue, having been kept behind by his last period teacher for texting in class. Why teachers notice his texting, but not the regular mistreatment of one of their students boggles his mind, and he’s not exactly sure he can let this go.

When he gets to Glee, he hesitates at the door. He just... looks, and he doesn’t like what he sees. He looks at the empty seat Quinn’s saved him, then over at the seats surrounding Rachel, all depressingly empty. Rachel, in her... probably eleventh outfit of the day, still with some scum in her hair, and her skin stained remarkably unnatural colours. Rachel with the silver strip of tape on her face and the smudged and faded “NO H8” on her cheeks. He thinks back to when he was the social outcast, and while he didn’t have all the goals or drive Rachel does, he was proud of who he was. At least, he thought he was. He laments over how he’s traded in everything that made him Sam-I-am-I-don’t-like-green-eggs-and-ham, all in the name of popularity.

Absently, he hears Mr. Schue walk in, all smiles and happiness, and knows he has to take a seat.

And, for once, he lets his heart decide.

Fin

A/N: I've actually been writing this since January, to be honest. I almost dropped it, because I hated what I was doing to Rachel. I finished it on the Day of Silence (April 15th), but I was away and unable to post it due to lack of internet. Congrats to the people who took part this year, you all have my respect.

Help Japan

vsquared_k — Tue, 29 Mar 2011 00:34:54 GMT

This is my post...

Belated post because evidently I forgot to say that I've got a post...

But bidding's open til the 31st, so please bid! It would be awesome :D

The Running Gag

vsquared_k — Sun, 27 Mar 2011 05:30:09 GMT

Faberry Comics!!
Made for the r_q community's Monthly Challenge.

#1

#2

#3

#4

#5

#6

#7

More will possibly be found in the future at this tumblr here

Too Much Love Will Kill You (Prologue/?)

vsquared_k — Sun, 20 Mar 2011 18:53:29 GMT

Title: Too Much Love Will Kill You (Prologue/?)
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: Up to Original Songs
Summary: Based on a Glee Secret posted about a scene in Original Songs and a previous idea of House Intruder Rachel
Pairings: Faberry... kinda

Rachel stood outside the house, rubbing her hands together and hopping around to keep warm. The target would be easy, what with the vine trellis and all that. The people of Lima needed to invest in better security measures...

She slowly stepped into the soft soil below the trellis, and reached up to grab a good hold on it. When she was almost at the window, she smirked, singing softly under her breath.

"She's climbin' in your window, she's snatchin' yo' people up, stealin' from them, so ya'll need to hide yo' kids, hide yo' wife, hide yo' kids, hide yo' wife, hide yo' kids, hide yo' wife, and hide yo' husbands, cuz she's stealin' everythang from them."

The window was already open, so she carefully and quietly pulled it open further, peered in, and mentally chuckled.

'Amateurs,' she thought, slipping into the room. She dropped into a crouch, padding softly around the small room.

The room was evidently an office. Seeing as she was burglarizing the chief of Lima's police, she was distinctly disappointed to see the laptop on and running on the desk. She carefully touched the chair, amused to feel that the seat was still relatively warm. He'd stepped out for five minutes, tops. If her research was to be believed, it was time for his regularly scheduled thirty minute bathroom break. She whipped out her portable external hard drive from her pack and plugged it in. Several clicks later, and all the files started their swift transfer. 'Thank God for FireWire ports,' she thought, smirking.

She looked around for a little trinket to take, so she could have some sort of trophy. She had shoeboxes of them at home. Proof that she could and did break into people's houses; proof that she was good at whatever she did. She spotted a pile of paper with preprinted letterheads, pre-signed by the chief, and snapped up a sheet, deftly folding it into thirds. A smirk graced her face as she slipped the paper into her pocket; she absolutely loved this thrill.

Her headset crackled to life. "You have five minutes before he's scheduled to make an appearance." Her smirk fell, replaced by a scowl. She reached up, double tapping her ear piece in affirmation.

"If you're not out by then, I'll gladly kill you and him, and I'll make it look like he was struggling with a petty thief..."

Double tap. Yes.

"Just so you know, baby. You're expendable, remember." Her eyebrow quirked, and she fearfully glanced over at the computer screen.

Two minutes until the files finished downloading, another minute to erase her tracks, and thirty seconds to get out. She was cutting it close.

"I love you, you know."

Double tap.

Ninety seconds.

"I'd be devastated if you weren't around anymore. Who would be around for me to fuck? I'd miss you."

Rachel didn’t respond.

One minute.

"I can't wait for tonight. Are you excited?"

Double tap.

Silence.

“You know, sometimes I don’t like talking to you when you’re working. You don’t talk back, and it’s like I’m crazy. Am I crazy, baby?”

One tap.

Rachel’s fingers hesitated, just stopping herself from tapping a second time.

The voice over the connection laughed. “Of course I’m not! A crazy person could never do what I do! But sometimes, when you’re out sneaking around... I feel like one.”

Three taps. Sorry.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll forgive you... eventually.” There was a chuckled, and Rachel shivered. She’d loved that voice, once upon a time. “It’ll happen faster if you stay with me tonight.”

“You look hot, baby, in your black mission clothes... I can’t wait to fuck you hard and fast.” The voice was husky and low, and Rachel’s eyes widened in arousal. She refused to let the voice on the other end know, however, and stayed stock still. “I know you’re all hot and bothered now, baby. I can hear you breathing. I’m going to take you from behind in my room, your face pressed into the covers, until I come. And then I’m going to sit on your face, and you’re going to make me come.” Rachel squeezed her eyes shut tightly, gripping the fabric of her pants tightly, hating her body’s responses to the husky voice in her ear.

“You know why, right, Rachel?” Rachel’s hand snaked back up to her earpiece, shakily tapping twice. Of course she knew.

“It’s because I didn’t get to kill one of those stupid sluts tonight.”

Five seconds.

The computer screen blinked, and Rachel’s hands flew across the keyboard, before disconnecting her tech and packing it away.

“Three minutes, baby.” Rachel double checked the room, pulling out a small clear bag of hair from her back pocket. Taking a single brown hair from the bag with a pair of tweezers, she laid it carefully beside the laptop before putting it away and climbing out the window. She pulled the window back to its former position before scrabbling down the trellis. She loosened the soil she’d compressed earlier before hurrying off the vicinity.

“Baby, the patrol's coming.” She turned quickly to glance at the road, eyes wide with fear. Headlights. Shit. “Oh, and the Stoeger’s trained on you.” Rachel swore internally, sprinting towards back fence. “I love your neck... so nice and smooth...” Rachel bit back her reply, saving her breath for her escape. She leapt, using her leg on the fence to spring her upwards, reaching to grasp the top beam. She pulled her body over the wood, dropping down softly on the other side. Ripping off her earpiece, she glared up at the figure in the tree as they climbed down slowly, hunting air rifle slung over her shoulder.

The only sounds were those of Rachel’s gasps for breath and the light tinkling of laughter, as they waited for the passing of the patrol car, gravel crunching under its tires. The girl walked over to Rachel, hips swaying back and forth seductively. Rachel’s eyes narrowed angrily; she wasn’t falling for it again.

“Why didn’t you warn me about the patrol? You could see it from a mile away where you were!” Rachel wasn’t even attempting to hide her anger as a finger waggled in her face.

“Wow, Rachel, don’t be angry! I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” Rachel shivered at that, ducking her eyes. Fingers caressed Rachel’s face before tightening and wrenching the brunette’s face up. Rachel flinched. “Did you get it all?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure?” A smirk graced luscious lips. Rachel sighed, nodding. “Excellent.” A heavy handed pat on the cheek, and then the girl turned around to leave. “Let’s go, Rachel. We have a very eventful night ahead of us.”

Rachel looked up, praying for strength. “Yes, Quinn.”

Painting the Town Red

vsquared_k — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 03:15:48 GMT

Title: Painting the Town Red
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~2000
Spoilers: None. At all.
Summary: Based on this prompt

For Pervy’s birthday.

“I’m a fine arts student, Rachel. That means things will get messy.” Quinn sighed as Rachel frowned again at the paint splattered on the walls in the corner of Quinn’s bedroom. She’d dubbed it the ‘I do art here’ corner, and had stylistically splattered paint all over the walls. “It’s only logical that I make it messy beforehand, that way I don’t have to worry about it getting messier!”

Rachel turned to Quinn, a bright twinkle in her eyes. “I like it!” Quinn raised an eyebrow. “It’s very creative, and we can paint the living room walls like this together! That way we you can have more places to work, and we can bond as roommates!”

Quinn’s shoulders dropped from their confrontational position. This hadn’t been what she was expecting when she’d grudgingly agreed to join Rachel in an apartment in New York. Bonding had never been on the agenda. She’d been looking forward to just living in the same apartment, but never actually interacting with the crazy diva. She’d meant to hide her long-standing attraction for the diva, but it looked like Rachel wasn’t going to let her get away with that.

“I’ll talk to my fathers about it! I’m sure they’ll approve! They may even purchase different shades of paints for us! That’s what they’re, called, right? Shades?” Quinn nodded absently, wondering what exactly it was that she’d gotten into.

*\o/*

The next day, Quinn walked into the apartment after canvassing the city for furniture to find Rachel in the living room, multiple paint cans stacked by her side, struggling with the top of one can. Quinn blinked; she hadn’t thought that Rachel had been serious about this.

“You know, you should cover the floor with something before you start painting... I don’t think our carpet can survive paint.” Quinn smirked, walking into her room. She came back out several minutes later in an old dirty men’s dress shirt, and ripped, paint-spattered jeans. She pulled her hair up into a low ponytail, tugging it tight. “I’m not against you keeping your unicorn sweater on, though...” Rachel pouted, going into her room to change. “I’ll go get some tarps or something...”

“All right!”

If they were going to do this, Quinn was damned sure they were going to do it right.

*\o/*

“There’s a couple different ways to splatter paint, all with different effects.”

They’d covered everything in plastic dollar store tablecloths, and Quinn had made sure to tape everything down securely. She refused to pay for carpet cleaning.

“What exactly are you wanting to do?” Quinn looked over at Rachel, voice detached and nearly monotonous.

“Isn’t paint splatter just paint splatter?” Rachel tilted her head in confusion, and Quinn sighed. This was why she was never going to be a teacher.

“You got us flat brushes... which aren’t bad, but you can get different effects with different kinds and sizes of brushes. Anyway, that’s not important; this’ll be fine.” Quinn dipped her paintbrush in the purple pot of paint. She looked at the blank off-white wall in front of her and raised the paintbrush in front of her. A quick arc of her hand, and she’d splattered a line of purple.

“That’s one method.” She left the paintbrush on top of the purple pot, grabbing another one and dipping it shallowly in the cerulean and walking to another portion of the wall. She swung her hand forward, hitting her wrists together. A localized spray of paint, and Rachel clapped.

“Not too much paint on the brush, though, or it’ll run. And don’t mix the colors.” Rachel nodded in understanding, and after Quinn showed her some other methods, they got down to work. Rachel got the hang of it pretty easily, and the wall quickly took shape.

Just when Quinn was going to suggest they take a break, she felt something wet on her hand.

“Oh my goodness, Quinn, I’m so sorry!” Rachel’s hands were covering her mouth in shock, her eyes wide with fear. Quinn looked at her shirt and smirked, reaching out to dip her hands in paint.

“Hey Rachel...” She stalked closer as Rachel stood, stuck in place. “You have some paint on you...” Quinn flicked her drenched fingers, amused when paint stained Rachel’s forearms and chest.

Rachel’s hands dropped to reveal her mouth, agape. “Quinn Fabray, you seem to have paint on you as well.” A swipe of a paintbrush followed, and Quinn looked at her leg.

Quinn shook her head, eyes narrowing predatorily. She grabbed two paintbrushes, drawing them down Rachel’s arms. Rachel squealed, grabbing her own paint can, tossing its contents at the blonde’s chest. “Oh, it’s on, RuPaul.”

Rachel had the presence of mind to look slightly scared, but when she turned to run, she slipped on the slippery paint-covered tablecloths they’d used to protect their floor. Before she could recover, Quinn drizzled crimson paint all over her, superior grin on her face.

Rachel saw red, and with a quick swipe of her legs, Quinn was on the floor, hair drenched in green dye. A single rivulet of paint ran down Quinn’s cheek and neck, under her collar. Rachel sneered, Quinn growled, and then they found themselves wrestling on the floor, paint cans being thrown asunder as they rolled, grappling.

Quinn found herself under the diva, breathing labored, hands held in a surprisingly strong grip above her. “Do you concede, Quinn Fabray?”

“So you can win?” She barked out a laugh, before bucking her hips and flipping the two of them over, wrenching her hands free to pin Rachel’s shoulders. “Give up, Berry.”

“Not on your life.” Rachel struggled, thrashing on the floor. Quinn gasped when Rachel’s thigh connected with her center, but she held on as Rachel continued to struggle.

“Give up, Rachel.”

“No.” Quinn swallowed thickly, horrified that her voice was so husky. The coiling in her stomach frightened her, and she needed to get off the brunette before something happened that she wasn’t ready for, that she’d been avoiding for years. Rachel began bucking her hips violently, determined to get out from under the blonde.

“Stop, Rachel.” Quinn’s voice caught as Rachel again connected with her center. Rachel stilled at that, eyes searching Quinn’s. She gasped when she saw the blonde’s dark eyes, pupils blown in arousal, as they flicked between her lips and her eyes. The blonde licked her lips hungrily, before surging forward to connect their lips violently, teeth clacking together. Rachel’s hands came up, tangling in Quinn’s paint-drenched hair, pulling it free from her ponytail. Tongues battled for dominance before Quinn wrenched their lips apart. She flew away from Rachel’s body. “Oh, God.” Quinn’s fingers hovered by her mouth. “What did I do...”

“How... how long?” Rachel asked dazedly, pulling herself up.

Rachel knew now; Quinn could see that. There was no use hiding it anymore. “Too long,” was her whispered answer, before Rachel launched herself at the blonde.

Quinn held Rachel close as the brunette peppered her face with kisses, each slightly longer than the last. Quinn pulled Rachel’s mouth to hers, placing a passionate kiss, full of longing and regret, on Rachel’s full lips.

It was Rachel that wrenched her lips away this time, and she gently wiped Quinn’s cheeks. The blonde hadn’t even realized she was crying.

“Whoops...” Rachel looked slightly sheepish. “Paint’s still wet.” Quinn choked out a laugh at that, leaning forward to place a lingering kiss on the corner of Rachel’s mouth. Rachel bit lightly on her bottom lip, then her tongue laved it soothingly. Before Quinn could deepen their kiss, Rachel kissed her way down Quinn’s neck, sucking lightly. Quinn moaned, pulling Rachel closer. She played with the bottom of Rachel’s paint-stained top, stroking the slick skin just beneath the hem.

Quinn felt a tug at her shirt, and Rachel pulled away for a second. “Your shirt’ll dry to you if we don’t get it off now. Your pants, too.” Quinn smirked at her, and within seconds both their drenched tops were off, in a pile along with their jeans. Rachel immediately palmed Quinn’s breast. “Crap, your bra...”

Quinn laughed, reaching out to unclasp it as Rachel made quick work of her own. “You planned that,” she rasped, leaning forward to kiss the brunette again. Rachel let out a whimper, and when Quinn’s tongue met her own, she threw her arms around the blonde, holding her as close as humanly possible. The kiss became more fervent as their skin met, Quinn holding Rachel in place.

Rachel ground down on the blonde, both of them moaning into the kiss. Quinn trailed her hands down to Rachel’s chest, fingers circling nipples. Rachel gasped, then sucked Quinn’s tongue in appreciation as Quinn’s nimble fingers pinched at her nipples. Her hands traveled down Quinn’s fair skin, hands groping at whatever they touched.

Quinn’s hands darted out, grabbing Rachel’s hands before they went too low. “Not with your hands,” she gasped out, “The paint...” Rachel nodded, using her paint smeared knees to push the blonde’s legs apart. She eased her way down to Quinn’s neatly kept mound, kissing every expanse of exposed paint-free skin on the way. Quinn whimpered as Rachel slowly worked Quinn’s sopping panties down her legs, staring, engrossed, at her nether lips.

“You’re beautiful,” was the last thing Quinn heard before Rachel dove in, tongue lapping at the wetness pooled between her thighs. Quinn released a throaty moan, hand holding Rachel’s head in place. First there were long lingering strokes, but Rachel soon changed it up, drawing circles around Quinn’s bundle of nerves with her tongue before flicking it back and forth. Quinn’s paint-drenched body jerked back and forth, the blonde completely breathless. The blonde could feel herself nearing the edge, and she welcomed it.

Pulling away, the diva blew lightly on Quinn’s slit, causing the blonde to shiver. “Oh, God, Rachel...” The blonde looked down at a smirking Rachel, gasping. “Don’t tease me... Please, Lord Almighty.”

Rachel waggled her eyebrows before lowering her head. Her nose nudged the blonde’s bud as her tongue dipped shallowly into her entrance. Quinn pulled Rachel’s head in closer, swearing breathily as Rachel thrust her tongue in. As Rachel twirled her tongue, thrusting in and out, nose slamming into Quinn’s center, Quinn’s moans rose in tempo and volume, rising in a brilliant crescendo. Each swipe, twist and turn of the brunette’s tongue brought her closer and closer to blissful oblivion.

“Don’t stop, Rachel. Don’t... Oh, God... don’t ever stop!” Rachel latched her lips around the blonde’s nub, sucking gently as she hummed, and Quinn broke, exploding as she cried Rachel’s name, gushing time and time again into the diva’s open mouth. Rachel drank in everything she could of Quinn’s essence, feeling the blonde twitch under her tongue.

Freeing herself from Quinn’s grasp, she pulled the blonde up to kiss her, tongues meeting and caressing languidly. Quinn moaned at the taste of herself on Rachel’s lips, holding the diva desperately to her body. When Quinn moved to return the favor, however, Rachel stopped her.

Quinn looked at her new lover with a furrowed brow, clearly confused. Rachel winked at her, and got to her feet, pulling a shaky Quinn up with her. “Not that I don’t want you to return the favor, Quinn, because I definitely do! I just figure we should wash ourselves off before the paint gets too dry.” She smiled up at her with a twinkle in her eye, face entirely too earnest. Quinn looked down at their nude bodies, covered in a hodgepodge of colors, and nodded, smirking as she dragged the brunette towards the bathroom.

Fin

A/N: I might be persuaded to write a sequel... perhaps...

I Can Make You Feel Real Good (3/?)

vsquared_k — Sun, 13 Mar 2011 05:40:12 GMT

Title: I can make you feel real good (3/?)
Rating: PG (this one) / NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 2000+
Spoilers: Duets? Let's just say NBK...
Summary: Based on this prompt:
Quinn and Rachel not quite friends - Quinn finishes cheerleading practice one day with very tight muscles. Rachel gives her a surprisingly amazing massage. Quinn then seeks Rachel out for massages which get more and more heated.
Pairings: Eventual Faberry, with mentions of Fabrevans and Finchel

A/N: This is me apologizing for taking forever to write this. I hope this was worth the wait! Also, it's shorter...
A/N2: What is this business with the 'paste as plain text' business? Don't make me write in my formatting in html! That'll make me sad!

“You don’t hate me?” Rachel gaped at Quinn, eyes wide in shock.

Quinn’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to explain herself. “I mean, I still don’t like you, and it’s not like we’re buddy-buddy or whatever, but... uh, I don’t hate you. It’s more like... I’m ambivalent, or something. Like, not everything makes me want to punch you in the face.”

Rachel just grinned. “I’m okay with being merely acquaintances. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to hug you now.” She tugged on Quinn’s hand, pulling her up onto her feet. Quinn’s body shrank away from Rachel’s slightly, seeming to draw in on itself.

“Hugging is... uh, kind of a friend-y thing to do, isn’t it?” Rachel’s grin faltered at the blonde’s words.

“Right. Uh... that's true. Sorry.” Rachel let go of Quinn’s hands, which, to Quinn’s horror, were incredibly clammy, and walked over to her desk. “So while you were napping, I was brainstorming about what we’ll have to do for the lab write-up.” She picked up her notebook, handing it to Quinn. “I’m not sure if I’m right, so... what do you think?”

Quinn scanned it, nodding for most of it, and grimacing once or twice at some of Rachel’s blatant errors. "You seem to have the right idea on most of these questions, but you used the wrong equation on this one." She turned the book around, pointing at an equation Rachel had circled and drawn little stars around in pen. "That one... is for physics, not chemistry."

"Really?" Quinn nodded as Rachel scribbled out the 'F=ma', cheeks tinged with pink. "That was embarrassing. I'm not even taking physics."

Quinn laughed, amused. "How did you even know that then?" Rachel looked away. "Never mind that. If I only want you for your body, you only want me around for my mind."

"Not only that," flew out of Rachel's mouth, and a look of mortification flitted quickly across her face before she schooled her expression.

"Oh?" Quinn's eyebrow shot up her forehead, until Rachel smirked, cheeks still slightly pink.

“I want you for your car, too. Obviously.”

Quinn chuckled mirthfully. “You’re a goof. Let’s do this lab thing. And I hope you guys ordered meat, I’m quite the carnivore.”

\o/

Quinn wriggled in her seat in history, too bored to pay attention. The substitute, who wasn’t Holly Holliday, was a horrible teacher. He was also going over a lesson from a week ago, so Quinn had nothing to do. Suddenly, her cell phone vibrated. She sneaked it under her book, and saw that she had a new message.

Hey, are you still free for Chem stuff tonight? - RB*

Quinn’s thumbs flew over her keypad, and she shot a message back at the diva.

Ya, def. U texting in class? U rebel! & real classy, R, w/ the star... - Q

A couple minutes later, her cell phone vibrated again, startling her pen from where she was trying to balance it on her upper lip. It clattered onto the desk in front of her.

“You alright, miss...” The substitute scanned his seating plan quickly. “Fabray?”

“Yeah, fine.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Carry on.” The class snickered, and the sub just huffed before continuing the class.

I’m on free. Also, stars are my thing. - RB*

Perfectly aware. I’m in history, and the sub sucks. I’m sooooo bored. Entertain me. - Q

Quinn turned her attention back to the board, eyes half-hooded in boredom. She fought the urge to slide forward and slouch in her chair. Coach Sylvester would probably find out somehow and force her to run extra laps while yelling at her through the bullhorn. Besides, it wasn’t very proper for a lady to sit like that.

Paying attention is incredibly important, Quinn! You should pay close attention since there may be something that you can use at some time in your life -RB*

Quinn hid a chuckle behind a small cough. Santana, upon hearing it, threw a piercing glance at her, eyebrows furrowed, before smirking at her. They rolled her eyes and they shared a silent conversation, and before long, the class was about to end. Quinn quickly tapped out a late response before rushing off to her next class.

Doubt it, but w/e. Meet me @ my car @ 4 - Q

\o/

“So while most Copper oxides burn a beautiful dark green, Copper one compounds-”

Rachel groaned halfway through Quinn’s sentence, slumping forward in defeat. “They’re both copper, why would they be different?”

Quinn chuckled, shrugging. “Break time? Maybe it’ll stick after a bit of a breather.”

Rachel perked up immediately. “You just want a massage,” she teased. She smirked, jumping up. Quinn laughed as Rachel dragged her towards the bed.

“Whatever, you like it, Ma-Berry.” Rachel gestured for Quinn to lay down, and then propped her head up with a pillow after tugging her T-shirt down.

“I think it would be beneficial to your experience if you allowed me to give both sides of your back equal pressure from above. This can only be achieved if I sit equidistant from both the left and the right side of the body, thus meaning I should be somewhere in the middle. So if you’d be so kind as to allow me to be astride your back, that would be for your benefit as well as mine.” Quinn turned her head to watch as Rachel continued with her rant, eyes slightly wider in trepidation. “I understand that you have reservations against the aspect of my touching your back or skin or something, but I assure you that this is for the best, and I will keep my hands in safe places and I’ll let you know where I’m going so you won’t have to worry about anything inappropriate.” Rachel took time to breathe, and Quinn to process.

“How would straddling my back help you, RuPaul?” They both winced at her biting tone, but Rachel’s eyes were understanding. Quinn felt something twist in her gut as Rachel knelt beside the bed and patted her clothed shoulder. “Sorry... I didn’t want to call you that.”

“I understand.” Rachel squeezed Quinn’s shoulder lightly for emphasis. “It’s just that, if I straddle your back, I don’t have to lean quite as much over your body, which then relieves my back of stress. Also, pushing from above allows me to use gravity in my favor, which means that not only will I be pushing, but gravity will, in a sense, be pushing my body weight, no matter how slight, onto your muscles as well. This will allow me to use less force over all, which will allow the massage to continue for quite a bit longer than before.”

“How is it you don’t understand chemistry, Berry?” Rachel blushed and sputtered at Quinn’s words, but took them as an okay to climb onto the bed. As the diva’s body settled onto her lower back, Quinn tensed, but tried to force herself to relax. Rachel wasn’t going to do anything. It was just a massage... It’s not like Rachel was going to get her back for every bad thing she’d ever done to her, now that she was defenseless and at her mercy...

The sudden appearance of Rachel’s hands on her shoulders made Quinn flinch slightly, and her heart dropped with guilt. “Relax, Quinn, you’re safe with me.” Quinn’s eyes widened, because Rachel had just... she just... Rachel rubbed lightly in soothing motions, waiting for Quinn to relax. When that didn’t happen for several minutes, she sighed and squeezed Quinn’s shoulders tightly. “I can’t massage you if you’re not relaxing, so I’ll just...” She moved to get off of the blonde. “And maybe we can get somewhere with this massage thing today.”

“No, no Rachel, I can... relax... I think.” Rachel paused, half off the cheerleader, and looked down at Quinn, noting her furrowed brow and look of general discomfort.

“That,” Rachel said, poking the crease in Quinn’s forehead, “doesn’t look very relaxed. It’s fine. I’ll just get back off, and we’ll do it the way it was before.” Quinn looked like she was going to insist, but Rachel cut her off before she was able to say anything, climbing off of the girl in the process. “The faster the massage, the faster we can get back to... blue copper fire or something or other.”

Quinn tried her hardest not to look overly relieved that Rachel wasn’t on top of her anymore, but caught Rachel’s slightly hurt look. Obviously she hadn’t been successful. The pang of guilt Quinn felt was slightly surprising, but then Rachel’s hands were on her, and she didn’t have it in her to care anymore.

\o/

Three more sessions passed in which Rachel ended up climbing onto, then off of Quinn. Having caught Rachel’s flicker of despondence every time, Quinn was officially feeling quite guilty. The arguments the brunette put up each time as to why it would be better for the both of them if she were to straddle Quinn were quite logical, and Quinn was determined this time to power through it.

As Rachel threw her leg over Quinn’s back for the umpteenth time, Quinn tried making small talk, hoping to distract herself from the steady weight that settled onto her back. “So Coach says I’ve gotten a little more flexible.” Her voice was slightly muffled by the pillow, she found. Rachel made a soft questioning sound as she rubbed soothing circles on Quinn’s back. “I guess I have you to thank, right?”

Rachel nodded, ignoring the slight waver in Quinn’s voice, then realized that Quinn wasn’t able to see her actions. “Yes, I guess you do.” She smiled, noting how Quinn was trying so hard to stay relaxed.

Leaning forward, she rested the heels of her palms on the curve of Quinn neck, massaging gently. Quinn moaned softly, and her shoulders instinctively relaxed. Rachel softly sat back as she moved slightly lower to Quinn’s shoulder. She squeezed, and Quinn’s appreciative groan grew louder. Rachel smiled, continuing to rub that same area.

“Don’t... don’t move. It feels so good...” Quinn groaned. “God, I love your hands.” Her eyes fluttered closed as Rachel continued to work her shoulders, working the ache out. A while later, Rachel’s hands slowly worked their way down her back, kneading and massaging her kinks out.

“Oh, God, Rachel!”

At about midback, Rachel moved to sit on Quinn’s thighs. The momentary instinctive tensing that Quinn experienced at feeling that weight shift was banished as Rachel continued to work her way down Quinn’s back. Rachel’s hands kneaded Quinn’s sides, turning Quinn into a puddle of goo.

All of a sudden, Rachel tugged on Quinn’s shirt. Quinn turned her head to ask what Rachel was doing, but Rachel beat her to it. “Your shirt bunched up. I just put it back into position.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

Rachel didn’t respond, choosing to pound lightly up and down Quinn’s back with loose fists. Quinn hummed in gratitude, smiling into the pillow her head rested on. “Have I ever told you that you’re awesome? Oh, hey! I sound like a boat again!” The steady rhythmic pounding faltered slightly, then continued as if nothing had occurred.

“No... but thank you. I like to think that as well.” Quinn could hear the smile in Rachel’s voice. “Though it’s nice to finally have someone else acknowledge the fact that I am, as you said, awesome.” Quinn chuckled, and they fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of Rachel pounding on Quinn, muffled slightly by the blonde’s T-shirt, and Quinn’s bemused humming.

Rachel switched to gliding her hands up and down Quinn’s back. All the way up her spine to her neck, then down her sides, repeatedly, all while applying constant steady pressure. Quinn turned her head slightly and murmured in appreciation, the softer tactic a nice change to soothe the warm pleasurable fire she had in her back.

“How’s this feeling, by the way?”

Quinn smiled contentedly at Rachel’s query, knowing she could see it. “Marvelous,” she drawled lazily.

Rachel laughed. “I’m glad. It’s so much better this way, isn’t it?” Quinn purred in agreement as Rachel worked her way slowly back up to Quinn’s shoulders, shifting to once again sit on Quinn’s lower back. Several minutes passed, and then Rachel climbed off the boneless Quinn. Quinn rolled over onto her back and splayed her arms out on Rachel’s bed, completely content.

“You all right there?” Quinn grunted in agreement, eyes closed. “Are you going to sleep on me?” There was sound indicating the negative, which was followed by a small silence.

A bit later, when the bliss had faded slightly, Quinn rolled off of Rachel’s bed and collected her bags to leave. Rachel looked up from her essay that she had been writing, getting up to walk the blonde to her front door. Before they left Rachel’s room, however, Quinn looked back at the diva. “I still dislike you, Rachel Berry, even if you’re awesome. Just for the record.”

Rachel chuckled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Fabray.” She rolled her eyes. “Now go, I have to write this essay, then my fans await on MySpace.” She ushered the blonde out her door, and down the stairs. Rachel’s fathers looked up from the den as they passed and called out a goodbye, which she returned.

“I’m serious about still disliking you, Berry.”

Rachel sighed. “Goodbye, Quinn. Have a nice afternoon, and I’ll see you on Monday.” Rachel closed her door, shaking her head, before returning to her room. Hamlet and his odious soliloquy on melting flesh couldn’t be postponed very much longer.

Funny You Should Ask That

vsquared_k — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 07:04:55 GMT

Title: Funny you should ask that
Author: Vsquared-k
Pairing: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Rating: G
Length: ~1500 words
Warning: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Prompt: Rachel’s afraid of clowns
A/N: For tutorgurltigger for her birthdayyyyy.

Rachel pulled out her Blackberry, quickly checking her text messages during breaks between classes. She smiled softly at one from her girlfriend.

"Beth's asking about you again, and if you'll make it for her birthday. She's turning six, don't forget. I miss you, baby. Please tell me you can make it! -Q"

Her thumbs quickly tapped out a response as her heart warmed at the thought of her two favorite girls back in Lima.

"How could I ever miss my favorite girl's special day? I'll be there. Love you, babe. Can't wait to see you again! -RB*"

Her thoughts drifted to the last time she'd seen her girls, and she completely missed any and all lecture notes for the rest of the class.

A couple weeks later, Rachel showed up at the Fabray home, meticulously wrapped present in hand. She heard the laughter of children inside, and she smiled broadly before reaching over and ringing the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal Quinn decked out in a party hat and a grin. "Hey, baby!"

Rachel leaned in for a chaste kiss, murmuring, "I missed you so much," onto her girlfriend's soft lips. The blonde smiled and tugged her into the house, holding her girlfriend's hand tightly.

"I've missed you too..." She smiled, eyes shining.

"Do I get one of those?" Rachel pointed at Quinn's hat, smiling teasingly. Quinn reached over to the side table and grabbed one that had obviously been hand decorated, with gold stars meticulously stuck on. “For me?” Rachel gasped melodramatically as Quinn rolled her eyes and pulled her girlfriend closer. She put it on Rachel’s head, ridiculous elastic pulled under her chin.

“Promise not to freak out?” Quinn asked, suddenly serious. Hazel searched confused brown eyes, and when Rachel nodded, Quinn leaned in to whisper in Rachel’s ear. “Sorry, baby, but... she wanted a clown.”

Rachel’s body turned rigid, shoulders straightening awkwardly. “That’s... okay,” she squeaked, voice cracking. “I can... leave... or something.”

At her statement, Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Beth would prefer the ‘or something’ that you mentioned.” She rubbed Rachel’s shoulders to sooth her nerves. “Look, I’ll make it up to you tonight or something, okay?” Rachel swallowed, obviously too nervous to take note of the implication, and nodded stiffly. “I know you’re... not fond of clowns, but... just get through this, 'kay? Beth would love it.”

Rachel nodded before taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. “I can do this. For Beth.” Quinn smiled warmly at her and directed her girlfriend into the room full of giggling children. Rachel’s eyes scanned the room, eyes inadvertently landing on the garishly dressed man at the front with the painted on smile and fluffy wig. She shivered before looking for her favorite little girl.

Beth sat attentively in front of the clown, eyes shining and attentive as he plucked and pulled at a long balloon, before presenting a balloon dog to her. She giggled, reaching out with two hands to take it. Before she could, though, Rachel butted in. “What do you say, Beth, when someone gives you something?”

“RACHEL!!!” Beth jumped up and ran to the brunette, arms wrapping fiercely around her legs. If Quinn hadn’t been behind her, Rachel was sure she would have fallen. “You’re here!!”

Rachel tousled Beth’s hair, smiling fondly down at Quinn’s daughter. “Sure am! I wouldn’t miss your day for the world! Now what do you say to the nice man with the balloon?”

Quinn chuckled at Rachel’s evasion of the word clown as Beth turned around, running back to the man before accepting the balloon animal with a solemn, “Thank you very much, Mr. Chuckles.”

Quinn slipped her arms around Rachel's waist from behind, and kissed her softly on the jaw. “I love you so much. You know that, right?” Quinn’s soft voice made Rachel relax, eyes fluttering closed, as she suddenly felt right at home. She leaned back into the embrace, nodding wordlessly. Quinn continued to kiss down Rachel’s neck softly, before nestling her chin onto Rachel’s shoulder to watch the clown.

Partway through, while the clown was preparing for his next trick, Beth looked over and stage-whispered, “Rachel!!” before gesturing at the empty spot next to her. “Come sit with me!” Rachel once again tensed up. “Please?” The brunette’s eyes widened in fear. The front? Sure, it’d be on the side, but still, the front?

“Go on... he’s not going to hurt you. I promise. I checked to see if he had any mysterious murders on his resume before I hired him... He’s clear.” At Quinn’s words, Rachel nodded robotically before moving to sit beside the little girl.

Several more tricks and jokes later, the clown asked for a volunteer to help him with a song, and scanned the eager children with their hands up. His eyes settled on Beth, before pointing directly at Rachel. “Will you come and help me with the song, young lady?” Rachel’s eyes widened dramatically, but Beth laughed, pushing her forward. Rachel’s eyes flew over to Quinn, but to her dismay, Quinn was holding back her laughter while giving her a thumbs up as she walked out of the room.

The clown threw his arm around her shoulders. “Do you know the words to ‘Happy Birthday’?” Rachel nodded, too petrified to roll her eyes in disdain. The clown pulled out a pitch pipe, and he and Rachel led the children in a rousing rendition of the song, Rachel’s voice cracking only once. The cake was brought in, stopping in front of Beth (who blew out all the candles in one breath, causing Rachel to smile at her breath control).

After cake was doled out to all the guests and they were all eating picnic-style on the living room floor (and the clown was painting faces), Rachel nestled into Quinn’s side, completely worn out by her clown-experience. “Never again...” She whimpered.

Quinn shook her head as her hand ran through her girl’s hair. “Never again. Next year will probably be pirates or something. You know how kids are...” Rachel just burrowed deeper into Quinn’s shoulder as Quinn smiled indulgently at her before kissing her hair.

The clown stood up and walked over to the couple in the kitchen. “Young lady, thank you very much for your help earlier.” Rachel squeaked, sitting up ramrod straight. “I’d like you to take this token of my gratitude.” He snapped his fingers and a bouquet of flowers appeared in his hands. Rachel’s mouth opened in a soundless scream, and her hand reached out tentatively to take the bouquet. Once it was in her hands, the man winked and went back to entertain the children.

“That was nice of him,” Quinn remarked, smirking. Rachel grasped the bouquet tightly in both hands, arms jutting out straight in front of her. “Rachel, honey, they’re not going to kill you.” 

“No, they won’t,” Rachel agreed. “But they could still turn into doves or something. And doves could poop on me.”

“Seriously?” Quinn laughed. “Wow, Rachel. That’s mature.” Rachel took a deep breath, before pulling the flowers closer. “You should smell them or something. I dunno... they’re flowers.”

“They’ll squirt me in the face.”

“They’re thank you flowers, Rachel; they won’t.”

Rachel glared at the blonde before bringing the bouquet closer to her nose to take in a whiff. A sparkle amongst the stems caught her eye, and, cocking her head slightly to the side, she fingered at it, and the note attached to the one of the stems. Quinn’s grin grew larger as Rachel read the simple sentence before gawking at her.

“Close your mouth, baby, you’ll catch fli-” Her words were cut off by Rachel’s lips peppering her face, arms flinging around her neck.

“Yes,” she breathed, “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you.” Rachel kissed her long and languidly before pulling away. “I love you so much... Put it on for me?”

Quinn nodded dazedly, as she slipped the ring onto Rachel’s finger. “I love you so much, baby...” Once the ring was fully on Rachel’s finger, she swatted her fiancée. “Ow!! What was that for!”

“I can’t believe you used a clown to propose!” Rachel crossed her arms with a huff. “You know they scare me!”

Quinn laughed. “I thought it’d be funny... Besides, I’ve never understood your fear of clowns...”

“True, clowns are pretty awesome.” Quinn wrapped her arm around Rachel as she inspected the ring on her finger. “Did I mention I love it? And you?”

“Yeah. But I don’t mind hearing it again.” Quinn leaned down to kiss Rachel again, when suddenly a camera went off, followed by giggles.

Rachel looked at the doorway, where a crowd of little people stood. “Hello there.”

“Ew!!! They were kissing!!! That’s gross!!!”

Ninjas Vs. Pirates

vsquared_k — Fri, 21 Jan 2011 08:11:19 GMT

Title: Ninjas Vs. Pirates
Author: Vsquared-k
Summary: based off this prompt at the glee kink meme
Pairing: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Rating: NC-17
Length: >5000 words
Warning: THIS IS FEMSLASH AND THIS IS SMUT. So, like, don’t read it if this is going to make you uncomfortable. *looks at a certain someone who knows me irl*

The little freshman walking around the cafeteria armed with a clipboard and a question had no idea she would spur something grandiose and frightening when she chose the question that she thought would get her probability survey finished quickly. She had no idea she would spark something of such magnitude that the whole of the McKinley High caste system would be rocked to its core (Luckily for her, she somehow remained blissfully ignorant after the fact, but the question totally helped her get an A on her work, so even if she did know, she wouldn’t have cared).

The question?

“Ninjas, or pirates?”

Everything would have been fine if she had just asked the people she knew, and hadn’t decided to go to every clique and table in the cafeteria (wider survey areas and larger numbers make for more accurate polling results, after all). It would have been okay if she’d decided not to actively seek out and survey the extremes of popularity at McKinley. The world may not have had to go through anything stupendous if she hadn’t somehow found the two together, and proceeded to ask them at the same time.

Because Quinn Fabray had said pirates, and Rachel Berry had quickly quipped, “Ninjas. But not the Naruto kind... the kind that wear black and hide in shadows and quickly dispatch people with mystery and stealth.”

The freshman had simply ticked one for each side (though she could see pirates winning by a large margin; silly uninformed school populace...), and walked off.

What she left behind would spell disaster for the school.

\o/

Quinn chuckled deprecatingly as they watched the unknown freshman walk away, and Rachel whipped her head around to glare at her.

“What?” Rachel’s look of incredulity only made Quinn smirk.

“You would pick ninjas, Manhands.”

“Yes, I would, because they take the time to hone their craft, and they are training from the moment they are born to be who they are. They not only have talent, they have skill, discipline, and they dedicate their entire lives to what they do. They’re silent when they need to be, unlike the decidedly crass sailors that you seem to have a-”

Quinn held up a hand to interrupt. “Before you continue, because, seriously, Treasure Trail, I’m going to start tuning you out if you continue your speech... Did ninjas have Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom make a movie about them?” Rachel stared in shock. “No? I didn’t think so.” And with that sentiment, the head cheerleader walked off, leaving a seething Rachel Berry plotting revenge.

\o/

The next day, Rachel came to school in all black, long sleeves, hood on and everything. Quinn saw her, and laughed. Rachel had proceeded to point at her silently from across the hall, eyes squinted in a look of displeasure, until someone walked in front Quinn, blocking her line of vision. When next she could see across the hall, Rachel was gone. Quinn shrugged, thinking it wasn’t anything major, and continued on her way.

In Spanish class later, which she shared with Rachel and Finn, she felt a burning glare on the back of her head. When she turned around to look, she couldn’t see anyone glaring at her, but she did see Rachel, frantically taking notes. Nothing too out of the ordinary, but, knowing Rachel...

“Quinn?” She turned her attention back to the front of the class.

“Yes, Mr. Shuester?”

“Can you translate what I just said to the class?” Her neck burned in embarrassment, and her quiet admission that, no, she couldn’t, because she hadn’t been paying attention garnered her a couple chuckles from the rest of the class, but it wasn’t too much of a hit on her reputation. It’s school work, after all... not paying attention in class is what cool kids did!

Mr. Shuester decided to turn to Rachel for the answer, then, and Quinn heard her say everything flawlessly (she knew it was flawless because Mr. Shuester said so). When she turned around again to look at Rachel, she saw a sneer flit across the diva’s face, before turning back into Mr. Shuester’s lesson. Quinn shrugged, uneasy, and started to pay attention again.

A couple seconds later, something small and slightly painful hit the back of her leg. She paid it no mind, until another hit her a minute later. She turned and glared at Rachel, but Rachel just looked at her quizzically. and mouthed “What?” Quinn rolled her eyes. A couple minutes later, three more paper pellets hit the back of her neck, and Quinn yelped in surprise.

“Quinn?”

“N-nothing Mr. Shue... just a little muscle spasm. You know how it is, Cheerios practice and all.” She was redder than a tomato at this point, and the number of chuckles this time around her louder and longer. She quickly glanced at the clock, relieved to see that only five minutes remained in class.

\o/

Rachel would have been the first person out of class after Spanish, but Quinn didn’t let her leave. The head chearleader had stalked over to the diva, and grabbed her arm, not letting her escape.

“What is your problem, freak?” Rachel feigned indifference, and Quinn just got angrier. “I know it was you burning a hole into the back of my head today, RuPaul, and I’m more than a little sure that you were throwing crap at me too. I don’t really care about this whole ninja-versus-pirates thing, but you have to stop.”

Rachel lifted her eyes, staring hard into Quinn’s, and Quinn could almost feel her searching her soul. “Not until you profess who is greater, and retract your previous statement about pirates. Your argument wasn’t even a decent one.”

Quinn huffed a laugh, let go of Rachel’s arm, and got her books, leaving Rachel to stand in the classroom with “You’re delusional, Berry,” ringing in her ears.

\o/

Puck had really liked the Ninja vs. Pirate question when he’d been asked, and he decided to hold a costume party the next Friday with that exact theme, complete with a ton of booze and other things that pirates would like (like wenches! Who doesn’t want wenches?). Who the fuck cared about ninjas anyway? All reticent and shit... Pirates were badass, and that’s all that really mattered.

It was the day of the party (which was conveniently being held at Brittany’s house, because her parents were away on a couple’s retreat or something like that), and people were flooding in, dressed and ready to get smashed. Puck still wasn’t sure why Brittany was dressed in tights and lots of green, but it was her house (and he’d caught Santana glaring at him when she’d walked down the stairs, just daring him to say anything), so he didn’t ask. It helped that Santana was dressed from head to toe in a skintight black leotard and was carrying around a whip... (“Catwoman’s a Goddamn MILF, so back off!” she snarled ferally).

When Quinn walked in dressed in large dress shirts, lots of dark makeup, her hair tied back with a bandana, and a cap gun shoved in her ratty black used-to-be-pyjama-pants, Puck smirked. “You’re not going to be my wench today?”

She blew him off easily, and wandered over to the rum, grabbing a full red plastic cup of it. It was good to be a pirate; no consequences, no problems, everything was great. And the liquor was also amazing, which was an added bonus.

\o/

Rachel heard through the grapevine that was the school (well, Tina, since they still sometimes kept in contact and all, especially now that she was wearing so much black) that there was a ninjas versus pirates party... and she knew pirates were going to be over represented... again! If it hadn’t been for that ridiculous movie trilogy, ninjas may still have been on top. Ninjas would always be on top to Rachel; she just had to alter the opinion of the general public.

She pulled on her dark clothing, and jogged over to Brittany’s house just down the street. She and Brittany had been good friends as children, until Rachel started using the dictionary, and Brittany had met Santana. Subsequently, Rachel had drifted away, and Brittany had latched onto another person.

Rachel walked into the house, and was surprised to see Brittany in neither a pirate costume or a ninja outfit... and was perplexed.

“Hi Rachel!”

“Brittany... who are you supposed to be?”

“Robin Hood... he’s kind of a pirate, right?” Brittany cocked her head to the side, slightly confused.

“Uh........ sure...... but he’s kind of a ninja too, because he hides in trees and steals things, and gets away with it. And his stealing had everything to do with timing, speed, and skill, as opposed to pirates and their loud rambunctiousness and general lack of knowledge when it came to swordplay.”

Brittany’s brow furrowed a little, “Okay Rachel, whatever you say...”

Rachel leaned in for a kiss on the cheek, and flounced off into the shadows of the house. It helped that she still knew the layout like the back of her hand. She noticed in the kitchen, a certain blonde pirate was sloppily making out with a certain blonde teenage ninja turtle, and her eyes narrowed.

It wouldn’t do to have her kind of secret crush making out with that... blasphemy to all things ninja. She would change things tonight, she was sure of it.

\o/

Quinn was drunk. She was actually past drunk, and heading towards passing out, and she really needed to pee. However, she was attached to the lips and tongue of a strange green man with an orange headband who sounded kind of like Sam... which didn’t make sense, because she’d broken up with the guy back in junior year, given him back his promise ring, and left him more than slightly brokenhearted.

She wrenched her mouth away from the boy, and got up from where she was by the counter. “Fuck yeah, pirates rock!” she crowed, swaying as she grabbed onto his shoulder. “Sorry, wench, I gottago pee,” she stated bluntly, stumbling away from her rum, and up the stairs to the bathroom that she was more than slightly sure wouldn’t be occupied. She tripped at the top of the stairs, and didn’t notice she was falling until she was caught from behind.

“Why, hello there...” was whispered into her ear, the sound slightly obscured by the thumping bass in the background. An open mouthed kiss was placed lingeringly on the back of her neck, before her mystery hero person pulled her up onto her feet. She turned around to... something (thank? kiss?) her rescuer, but that just made her dizzy.

“Igotta gopee...” she muttered again, trying to walk to Brittany’s parents’ room, almost falling over again in the process.

A hand latched around her forearm, and held her steady, before walking towards the master bedroom. “You’re incredibly drunk.” Quinn nodded, desperately wriggling in her need to just relieve herself. They got to the bathroom door (which was hidden from view from the master bedroom door by a dresser), and Quinn stepped onto the tiled floor, smacking her hand on the wall in the general direction of the bathroom light switch. “Do you need help?” The lights flickered on, and Quinn walked over to the toilet, pulled down her pants, and sighed contentedly as she sat and let go. She missed the small gasp from the doorway, but didn’t miss the door closing swiftly.

Her hero was a gentlewoman. It was no secret that the voice whispering in her ear was feminine, and Kurt was definitely not at the party, so it wasn’t him... but she couldn’t for the life of her tell who it was! The voice was very familiar, but she just couldn’t place it... which was odd, because she was sure she knew this person; absolutely sure.

Oh well, she was obviously too drunk to really know what was going on, and she could acknowledge that fact. She flushed the toilet, and while she was washing her hands, the door opened soundlessly. A hand reached over and turned off the lights just as she turned the faucet off.

Quinn shrieked at the sudden darkness (the master bedroom was pitch black as well), and her rescuer chuckled, before grabbing Quinn’s shoulder, and pulling Quinn towards her. A supple hand caressed the blonde’s face, running softly, almost reverently, over cheekbones, nose, closed eyelids, and lips, before being replaced by another pair of lips, soft and barely-there.

In her intoxicated state, Quinn couldn’t help but react, moaning lightly, and reaching for her hero. Her hands groped at nothing, and she belatedly realized that there was no one kissing her anymore. This realization followed with a groan of frustration.

“Nuh uh uh, Quinn. You have to find me first.” The voice came from where Quinn knew the master bedroom to be, so she groped around to find the doorframe, and pulled herself into the bedroom.

“Where’re you?” she slurred. A breath of air was blown lightly into her right ear, and she blindly threw her arm in that direction, barely catching a soft fabric before it slipped out of her grasp. “What the fuuuuuck...” She felt her brow wrinkle in annoyance, only to jump back up in surprise, breath hitching, when a pair of hands ghosted across her shoulder, and down her chest. She just froze, the heat from her face spreading down, down through her arms, down into her stomach, and even lower, pooling at the junction between her legs. There was silence then, only broken by her soft breathing.

“You coming to find me or not?” she heard to her left, so she stumbled back that way, only to have hands wrap around her from behind, and lips planting firmly on her neck. There was light sucking, not enough to make a mark, but enough to make Quinn gasp and cant her head to the side, wanting more touch, more feeling, more of this thrill. She felt the lips smile at that, before they began traveling up to her ear.

A light growl, then a nip on her ear lobe, and she moaned. “You’ra fuckin’ tease,” she growled breathlessly, “You’re prolly a ninja.” There was a chuckle, along with a whispered ‘maybe’, and they walked slowly backwards until the person behind her bumped unexpectedly into Brittany’s parents’ bed, and they both fell back.

Quinn, though drunk and uncoordinated, still had her reflexes, and she quickly turned herself as she felt herself falling so that she was facing her tormentor, arms hopefully about her head and knees straddling one leg. They bounced slightly on the mattress, and once they stilled, Quinn grabbed the girl’s cheek, and crashed their lips together fiercely. The girl beneath her moaned, and Quinn took that opportunity to thrust her tongue out and plunder what was obviously there for the taking. The tongue that met hers dueled with such intensity and precision that Quinn smiled into the kiss, eager for a challenge. The people she had kissed before had never had this intensity, passion, or skill, and she was utterly delighted.

Hands reached up, fisting on Quinn’s top, before reaching underneath and scratching lightly at Quinn’s ribs. Quinn broke the kiss, and bit lightly on bottom lips, before moving down the jaw to her neck, nipping teasingly all the way. The girl under her was writhing and moaning lightly, and Quinn could practically feel her eyes dilating in want. Quinn latched herself onto her collarbone, intent on claiming what she felt was hers. She bit down firmly, which had the girl hissing while she laved the spot with her tongue, before smiling in triumph.

\o/

“I totally made you my wench, ninja!”

At that, the fog of lust lifted just enough for Rachel to realize that, while she had initiated this paradise, Quinn just felt this was a challenge...

And Rachel Berry wasn’t going to lose. Not when there was this much at stake.

She pulled her hands out from under Quinn’s shirt before unbuttoning it from the bottom, stroking each iota of newly exposed skin as she strained forward to recapture Quinn’s lips in a simple kiss. She could play demure wench for now, but once she was ready...

The last button came undone, and Rachel suddenly twisted, flipping them over. She detached her lips mid-flip in a breathless cry of “Surprise attack!!” before falling forward again to resume massaging Quinn’s lips with her own.

A breathlessly strangled gasp of “B-berry?” caused her to freeze.

Shit.

\o/

Quinn had been surprised when she found herself on her back, shirt completely thrown open. Her ninja companion (she couldn’t really call her a ninja anymore) had yelled, of all things, “Surprise attack”, and those two words threw a wrench into her brain. That was Berry’s voice... and she heard herself voice her confusion.

Then her ninja had just upped and disappeared.

That was ten minutes ago, and while Quinn was slightly more sober now, she was incredibly hot and bothered. That wasn’t cool. She got up, and walked out the door, doing up her shirt on the way down the stairs. Puck spotted her, and whistled.

“Who got lucky, cap’n?” She scowled at his face, and slapped his shoulder.

“Obviously not you, if you’re still down here.” He laughed, slapping her heartily on the back. She winced.

“Rum?” She shook her head. She needed to find Rachel... because, really? What the HELL was that? Other than incredibly hot and frustrating, of course.

“Have you seen Treasure Trail?” He shook his head. Right. She’s a ninja. Puck, in his overly inebriated state, wouldn’t have seen a kraken if it had appeared in front of him. Maybe Berry had a point after all... She left him alone with his alcohol poisoning, and weaved past a multitude of badly costumed teens to get outside for a breather.

“Quinn!” Brittany ran over and jumped on her back just inside the doorway. “I’m here to steal your treasure!! And I’m going to give it to the poor!” Quinn whirled around and bucked playfully, Brittany squealing excitedly.

“Leaving already, Q?” Santana sauntered over, smirk on her masked face. “Is Brittany’s house not enough for you?” Quinn shook her head, indicated her need for a breather, and the trio walked out to sit on Brittany’ front porch.

Quinn leaned back on her hands, and looked at the sky, enjoying the relative silence. The thumping bass was a background ambient noise, and it was nice, seeing the stars. She breathed in deeply, trying to calm her nerves. It wasn’t often she looked up and paid attention to the stars, but... it seemed like she was in that state of mind, at this point.

“So what’s going on in our lovely HBIC’s mind today?” Santana asked, leaning on Brittany.

“What’s the girl equivalent of cock blocking?” she asked, not looking away. Her cheeks colored slightly, embarrassed by her own question.

“Twat swatting,” Brittany cocked her head, slightly confused, “I think...”

“Is it possible to..... that... yourself? BecauseIthinkIdid.”

“What’s that, Q?” Santana smirked, and leaned across Brittany to poke Quinn’s arm. “You twat swatted yourself?” Quinn nodded. “You still horny?” Quinn’s head snapped over to look at the Latina, and the brunette smirked. “You are...”

“Who got you horny, Quinn?” Brittany started playing with Quinn’s bandana.

“Berry,” Quinn muttered under her breath, clearly still drunk. Santana chortled, then patted Quinn’s knees comfortingly. “It’s not okay, San! She left my twat, uh, thoroughly.... swatted, and now I don’t know where she is, n’ she’sareallygoodkisser...”

Santana patted her knee again, before straightening back out and putting an arm around Brittany. “It’s okay, Quinn.”

“Yeah, I saw her run back to her house a couple minutes ago... she looked pretty scared.” Quinn’s left eyebrow crawled up her forehead.

“Right! The midget lives down the street!” Quinn’s eyes widened at Santana’s exclamation.

“Number 47... so three houses down.” Quinn got up abruptly. Brittany watched as she nearly ran in the direction she’d indicated. “San?”

“Yes, B?”

“Quinn’s not coming back to the party, is she?”

“No, B.”

\o/

Rachel threw open her front door, and thundered up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door closed just as she heard the storm door slam. She heard her father at the foot of the stairs admonishing her for not closing the front door, but she didn’t care; not in the slightest.

She’d found the whole incident in Brittany’s parents’ room to be incredibly invigorating, and so much better than she could have imagined. Sure, she’d run as soon as Quinn realized it was her that had, for lack of a better word, surprised her in the bedroom. But that was because Quinn Fabray had never really shown a liking to her before then, and Quinn was probably not exactly happy to have made out with The Rachel Berry.

But all that didn’t really matter. She had made out with Quinn Fabray, and Quinn had responded quite in an incredibly spirited manner. Passionately, even. Rachel grabbed her pillow and screamed into it, muffling her shouts of “FUCK’N A!”, before dancing a little jig around her room. After she tired of that, she stripped out of the skin tight black clothing she had on, and flopped backwards onto her bed with a dazed smile on her face. Her fingers touched lightly on her lips.

Wow.

Quinn was really quite the phenomenal kisser.

A knock on her door a couple minutes later brought Rachel out of her recent memories, especially when the door slid open, and a voice drawled “Well, then, isn’t that a sight for sore eyes.”

Rachel squeaked, grabbing the edge of her blanket and rolled until she was rolled up in a big blanket sausage. A muffled “Quinn?!” could be heard from somewhere in the blankets.

Rachel’s face flared when she heard quiet laughter. “Oh, don’t do that on account of me! I quite liked the view before...” The diva wormed her head out from inside the covers, to find Quinn standing right beside her bed. She smirked. “I do, however, quite enjoy my wenches when they’re all roped up for me. Also, nice sex hair.” Mortified, Rachel was in no position to verbally respond when Quinn dove in for a lingering kiss on the lips, before climbing on the bed and peppering her face with kisses.

Rachel groaned internally. This had to be a dream or something. She had to have fallen asleep while daydreaming about Quinn earlier. In all seriousness, though, Rachel didn’t really care.

“You left me all hot and bothered back there, Berry,” the blonde breathed, sucking lightly on Rachel’s bottom lip. “Everyone else is either already hooking up, or way too drunk off their asses to even come close to helping me out.” She pulled away, and Rachel strained her neck to follow, desperate for more. Quinn sat back, slowly unbuttoning her shirt, as Rachel sat there, watching with bated breath. Quinn ducked her head, biting her lip, and peered coyly through her lashes at Rachel as her last button came undone. Her shirt fell open to reveal Quinn's lacy bra underneath, and the brunette lost it. With a mighty lurch, Rachel unrolled herself and landed with a resounding thump on the floor.

“Eager much, Rachel?”

\o/

Rachel rubbed her abused butt cheek, and her eyes widened. “This isn’t a dream...” she whispered reverently.

“No, it’s not, doofus.” Quinn made quick work of her pants, throwing them somewhere over her shoulder. Rachel’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of Quinn in only her undergarments, and she just stared. “Come on, sexy, are you going to finish what you started or what?”

Rachel swallowed hard and licked her parched lips before clambering onto the bed. “You’re gorgeous...” Her eyes roved all over Quinn’s body, trying to take in everything at the same time. Quinn had the sense to blush at her scrutiny, and shivered as Rachel’s eyes visibly darkened, heat pooling low in her stomach. Rachel’s hands moved to touch Quinn somewhere, anywhere, but she hesitated. “I... you really want this?”

“Yes.”

And with that single whispered word, the shyness Rachel had displayed completely disappeared. She launched herself at Quinn, teeth and lips clashing together in a passion-filled cloud of lust. Quinn moaned into her mouth, nails scraping along Rachel’s back. She bit down on Rachel’s lower lip before laving it softly with her tongue, demanding entrance. Rachel welcomed the intrusion, but refused to give over control. Her tongue dueled with Quinn’s tongue, causing the blonde to groan in satisfaction and thread her hands through brown locks. Rachel’s lungs were burning form lack of air when Quinn pushed her gently to fall back onto the bed and attacked the petite girl’s neck with her lips.

“God, Quinn!” Rachel’s head canted to the side, giving more access to the blonde as she nipped and sucked her way up to her ear. Quinn’s hands ran down Rachel’s body, teasing and caressing her flesh.

“I’m so wet for you,” Quinn whispered hoarsely, hot air blowing across Rachel’s ear. The brunette shivered, crying out when Quinn bit her ear lobe as she simultaneously began to knead Rachel’s breasts.

Quinn threw a leg over Rachel's hip, straddling her, and bit Rachel's neck. Rachel whimpered at the pain, welcoming it. Through her haze of lust, she reached behind the blonde, struggling to free her breasts from their confines. With a growl, Quinn sat up, undoing her bra and throwing it to the side. Rachel gasped, reaching out to touch them. "Your breasts are absolutely perfect," she croaked out, her voice all raspy, before squeezing them lightly.

Rachel's thumbs rolled over Quinn's nipples, and Quinn threw her head back with a throaty moan, before bodily grabbing Rachel's shoulders, pulling her into another deep kiss. Quinn deftly removed Rachel’s bra, nearly ripping it in her haste. Rachel’s squeal of protest was muffled by Quinn’s tongue in her mouth. Quinn’s hands moved to palm Rachel’s breasts roughly, causing Rachel to moan into her mouth.

“I love the sound of your voice...” Quinn nipped her way down to Rachel’s breasts as Rachel fell back down onto the bed. Quinn quickly moved to divest the brunette of her panties before making quick work of her own.

“God...” Rachel moaned long and loud when Quinn sucked softly on Rachel’s breast. Her fingers pinched at Rachel’s nipple, and Rachel bucked into Quinn, moaning. “More...” Quinn bit down gently, and Rachel keened, writhing underneath her. Rachel’s hands trailed up Quinn’s sides before moving up into Quinn’s hair, pushing her head into her body. She could practically feel her wetness dripping onto her comforter, and for some reason, she really didn’t care. She gasped out, “More, please, God...” before inhaling with a hiss.

Quinn released Rachel’s nipple with a pop, and she growled. “Say my name, wench,” before blowing lightly onto the abused bud. Her hand slowly caressed its way down her stomach, pausing at her navel. She circled Rachel’s belly button casually, as if she had all the time in the world.

“Quinn, please!” Rachel bucked into her, crazy for her touch. The cheerleader’s name became her mantra as the blonde slowly inched her way towards her center, completely content with torturing the brunette.

“Where do you want me, Berry?” A finger stroked the diva’s inner thigh languidly. Rachel’s legs parted of their own volition, and Quinn inched her fingers ever closer, ever inwards.

Rachel gasped. “Quinn, oh, God!” Her hips bucked forcefully, and the blonde let out a lusty chuckle. She traced a single finger up and into Rachel’s folds, slowly teasing the brunette with her feather-light touch.

“You’re wet.” It was a statement more than it was anything else, and when Quinn removed her finger, Rachel whimpered. “Is there anything you want me to do for you, Berry?”

“Please, Quinn!!” Rachel let out a gasp when Quinn cupped her mound. The taller girl kissed Rachel’s stomach before moving her fingers slowly, stroking the girl’s center. Rachel began bucking into the her hand.

“Have you...?” Rachel nodded, barely able to keep any sense of sanity at this point. Quinn’s eyes narrowed slightly, and with that, Quinn plunged two fingers into Rachel’s core, kissing her way back up to her body. When Rachel began writhing, she began moving inside, thrusting deep as she peppered kisses on Rachel’s collarbone.

“You’re so hot. Sexy even.” Rachel was nearly incoherent, mewling as Quinn continued to pump inside her. Quinn didn’t really care about what she was saying, content with the fact that Rachel would likely actually hear her. “You think you hide your hot body under all those clothes, but I see it. I always see it... God, your legs.” She punctuated each sentence by sucking hard on Rachel’s collarbone, sure that she was leaving marks for the next morning. “Your everything... You’re gorgeous.” Rachel’s voice grew in volume as whatever noise came out of her mouth became useless mumblings. Her hips thrust in time with Quinn’s fingers. Quinn licked her way up to her mouth, once again plundering it for all it was worth. Even in her lust-addled mind, Rachel gave as much as she got, sucking sloppily on Quinn’s tongue before biting lightly Quinn’s lower lip.

Quinn moaned with Rachel, both lost in their lust. She added a third finger, causing Rachel to scream out, hips moving in some rhythm of her own. Quinn slowed her fingers and pulled out, causing Rachel to whimper out a, “Please...” as the brunette thrust uselessly on Quinn’s slick fingers. Quinn smirked.

“Not yet, wench.” She shifted, straddling one of Rachel’s legs, desperate for friction of her own. She shifted, pushing her own center into Rachel’s leg, groaning at the delicious contact. Rachel moaned, amazed at how wet Quinn was. “That’s all your fault, you know, wench. Your voice is so sexy, especially when it’s moaning my name.” She ground down on the girl’s thigh. “You’re so fucking sexy.” Rachel moaned when Quinn’s knee gave her some of the much-needed friction she was craving. Rachel’s hand snuck up and in between Quinn’s legs, stroking feverishly at her slit.

Quinn buckled at the sudden sensation, falling onto Rachel’s body as she thrust her center onto Rachel’s hands. Rachel’s fingers circled her clit, flicking lightly over it. “Oh, my GOD!!”

“Just... call me... Rachel...” the brunette gasped out, smirking through her cloud of lust. Quinn growled, thrusting her fingers back in suddenly, causing Rachel to moan and buck into her fingers. Rachel’s fingers pierced in just as suddenly, and Quinn moaned out the brunette’s name, moving in time with the brunette’s thrusts.

Rachel’s eyes rolled back into her head as she felt an intense heat building in between her legs. She moved vigorously between Quinn’s legs, lost in their mutual passion. It was building, growing, until she almost couldn’t take it any longer. Quinn’s thumb moved to press on her clit, and she moaned. “I’m... so close...” She reached her other hand between Quinn’s legs to pinch her bud, intent on making the blonde come before she did herself. When she felt the blonde’s walls clench on her fingers and heard her scream, she just lost control, moaning out the Quinn’s name and coming all over the blonde’s fingers.

Quinn collapsed into a boneless heap onto Rachel’s prone body, completely sated. Rachel pushed her to the side, and drew Quinn’s face up to hers, planting sloppy kisses onto Quinn’s lips. Quinn just exhaled hotly into Rachel’s mouth, still shuddering in pleasure.

“Oh, my God.” Rachel smirked at Quinn’s words, shaking off the last of her blissful state. She kissed her way down the column of the blonde’s neck, making sure to bite and suck on spots that would be a little difficult to hide. Quinn turned her head slightly, allowing Rachel more room. Rachel smiled into Quinn’s neck before sucking lightly on her collarbone.

“I didn’t get to play with you very much, you know,” she murmured, teasing Quinn’s nipples with her fingers. Quinn just groaned, lost in the sensations. “You’re so absolutely perfect. It should be illegal to be as perfect as you are.” And with that, Rachel captured one of Quinn’s peaks in her mouth, circling the nub with her tongue. She sucked lightly, grazing the tip with her teeth. She moved her way down Quinn’s body, licking and biting, before stopping at Quinn’s neatly kept mound. “You smell so incredibly good,” she moaned, before diving in with her tongue.

\o/

The next morning, Rachel woke up at her customary time, her speakers blaring. She groaned, and the body wrapped around hers shifted. Quinn threw her arm over to the nightstand, hitting the snooze button. Rachel cuddled into Quinn’s naked body, and smiled when fingers combed through her hair. Rachel hummed her contentment. The room smelled of sex and sweat.

Quinn grabbed the alarm, peering blearily at the number on the LCD display. “Why the hell do you wake up so early, Berry?”

“Exercise... but I think I can skip that today.”

Rachel’s head bobbed up and down as Quinn chuckled. “After last night? I should hope so...”

Rachel looked up at the blonde. “You remember last night?” Quinn nodded, and raised a lethargic arm, indicating a 'somewhat'. “And you’re not...” Rachel trailed off, afraid to finish the sentence.

“I would be... I think, if I wasn’t hungover, incredibly tired, and completely physically sated. Give me a couple hours...” She quirked a tired smile. “You were right, though...”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Swallowing her ‘Of course I am, I’m Rachel Berry! I’m always right!’, Rachel allowed Quinn to elaborate on her own.

Quinn stroked Rachel’s hair thoughtfully before huffing out a laugh. “Ninjas are pretty freakin’ awesome.”

Rachel looked at Quinn, struggling to keep the wry grin off her face. When Quinn started giggling, Rachel finally let it loose, stating, “Pirates are quite amazing themselves...” before falling into a fit of laughter.

“So, what? The best thing is, like, ninja pirates?” Rachel muffled her laughter in Quinn’s chest.

When she finally got control of herself, she looked up and pressed a chaste kiss on the corner of Quinn’s mouth. “I can live with that.”

\o/

The next week was a little awkward for the two of them, considering they had both experienced so much that night. Quinn got the slushies to stop, and took to smiling and waving shyly at Rachel when they passed each other in the hallways. Rachel would willingly quiet down during Glee if Quinn asked her, which came at the relief of the rest of the club. However, the girls mostly danced around each other, and the night was put behind them and ignored as best as they could.

That is, until a little freshman approached the two of them one day in the halls with a simple question for their math class.

“Buffy Vampires or Twilight Vampires?”

Quinn’s, “Twilight, obviously!” was drowned out by Rachel’s strong, “I refuse to answer this query.” The freshman took down Quinn’s answer before scuttling away.

Quinn smirked, looking over at the brunette. “What was that?”

“I’m serious... we have differing opinions, since I’m all for either Buffy or the classic master vampire, Dracula, and this whole thing will start all over again, and I don’t think my psyche could take it if we have to ignore anything if it ends up like last time again.”

“Okay...?” Quinn’s eyebrows climbed up her forehead at Rachel’s outburst, before pursing her lips in thought. Rachel bit her lip, afraid she’d given away too much.

Quinn’s eyes suddenly widened in comprehension, but she blinked, and just like that, the surprise on her face was gone. The silence stretched on a little longer before she turned gracefully to leave, pausing to look over her shoulder. She looked back at Rachel thoughtfully. “Hey... Wanna hang out after Glee today? I’ll treat you to a cup of sparkling blood orange juice or whatever. At the juice bar at the mall.”

Rachel looked at Quinn quizzically, thinking over the odd request. She noted the slight tremor in the blonde’s voice, the tight way she was holding her binder, her incredibly straight posture, how the blonde was looking anywhere but the diva, and cheered internally. “Yeah.” Rachel answered slightly hesitantly, smiling shyly at the cheerleader. “I’d like that.”

“Cool. I’ll... uh, I’ll see you in Glee.”

The blonde walked away quite rigidly, and Rachel leaned back onto the lockers with a pleased smile on her face.

Fin

The Offer (1/1)

vsquared_k — Mon, 17 Jan 2011 19:05:54 GMT

Title: The Offer

written for kkieslowski for the glee_rare_pairs fic exchange

Pairing: Mike/Quinn friendship
Rating: G
Summary: Mike notices that Quinn’s constantly stumbling during the dance numbers. After he sees her trip on the mic stand during the girl’s mash-up to “Start It Up/Livin’ on A Prayer,” he approaches her to work on her flailing.

“I’m... what?”

Quinn’s right eyebrow rises as she looks up quizzically at the tall Asian boy. He quirks his lips, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“It’s just... you’re not all that graceful are you? As a dancer, I mean. You’re klutzy.”

She rolls her eyes at him, smirking. “I’m a Cheerio. Not just any Cheerio, head Cheerio.” She shakes her head. “Head Cheerios aren’t klutzy.” She rolls her eyes one more time, muttering about crazy people, before pushing past him to get to her locker down the hall.

“You nearly fell on your face just walking onto the stage during the last mash up.” Mike’s words are soft, but they carry quite well in the empty hallway. She stops, turning her head slightly to listen with her back still to him. “After that, you barely moved at all.” She hears him walking slowly towards her, his strides long and graceful, just as always.

“During your funk solo last year, you held onto the microphone like it was some sort of safety net. And Sam had to catch you during Sectionals... it was almost undetectable, but I saw it.” He’s in front of her now, so she looks away, flitting somewhere between the space over his shoulder and the lockers directly to her right. “You don’t have to be embarrassed... It happens.”

She snorts, turning her head to look directly into his eyes in amusement. “Says the overly graceful dancer that, only a little over a year ago, never even danced outside his room!” She laughs, bemused, and he lets a small smile crawl onto his face. She pokes his shoulder good-naturedly. “I’ve seen you play football; that smooth motion thing you have going for you happens everywhere. How?”

He shrugs. “Martial arts. I quit, but mom made me do it for a long time.” He says it like it’s no big deal, because, to him, it really isn’t.

Somehow, though, to Quinn, this kind of makes sense. She’s had to sit through martial arts movies with both Finn and Puck before, and had marveled at the fluidity of the actors. After each movie, Finn and Puck both made the people in the film look like gods with their immature choppy movements.

“So you think you can help me?” He nods slowly, a growing smile crawling across his face. “I’ll think about it.” She nudges him lightly with her elbow and walks away with a smile on her face.

\o/

“I’ve thought about your offer.”

Mike looks over in their shared home ec course. She has icing sugar on her cheek, and a wildly excited look in her eyes. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Quinn glances around quickly before leaning in secretively. “And I was thinking... maybe help all the Cheerios? I’m sure I’m not the only one with... problems, and if I talk to the coach about it, she’ll probably even write you some sort of letter thing.” She pauses to let her idea sink in. “It’ll definitely help us Cheerios with our more difficult routines, and, it’ll look great on your college applications later.”

He looks relatively deep in thought. Everything she says is true, but he feels like it’s all so she doesn’t have to go through this herself. He smiles, deciding not to call her out on it. “Sounds like a good idea.”

She smiles prettily at him, before going back to beating her eggs again. “Cool. Give me your schedule, and I’ll talk to Coach Sylvester about setting up a good time for both you and the Cheerios.”

He laughs at the mess she’s making (because despite it all, she looks like she’s having tremendous amounts of fun) before he goes back to crushing walnuts.

\o/

“Coach said yes, then complimented me on my initiative...” She looks away, slightly confused. “Well, I’m pretty sure she did... though there were a couple insults thrown in there too.” He laughs, amused. “You’re okay for Wednesday mornings, right? Before class?”

“Yeah, what time?”

“She says seven, but get here fifteen minutes before, at least. And, like, be ready right away or something.”

He nods, then they part ways, she to meet up with Sam somewhere, and he to find Tina. His mom had told him last night to invite Tina over for hot pot.

\o/

It’s Wednesday after practice. Quinn’s absolutely beaming, and he is too. The other Cheerios are just getting into the locker room, chattering loudly about the new things they’d tried earlier.

“That was awesome! And probably the most fun we’ve had in practice for a while!” She turns to him, hands on her hips. “Thanks, Mike!” He just smiles. He’s glad he could help, even if it was in some round about way.

“I was worried, you know, when you were pregnant.” Her smile falls slightly, and her eyes harden. “I was afraid you’d fall while you were dancing, and you’d lose your baby.”

She looks down, hands subconsciously moving to protect the now absent precious cargo that had lived in her stomach for nine months. Her eyes become sad, but she smiles towards him. “You’re a good guy, Mike.”

He shakes his head, moving slowly past her to leave.

Her hand catches his elbow as he’s leaving. “No, really.” She looks him in the eyes, completely sincere. “Tina’s a lucky girl. She’d better know she’s got a catch.”

Fin

Unspoken Words (2/?)

vsquared_k — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 15:59:56 GMT

Title: Unspoken Words
Rating: PG (this one)/NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: AU after Journey
Summary: Futurefic! Rachel knew it wasn't wise to take a shortcut through dark New York alleys late at night, but it was late, and she was drunk, and really, really had to get home.
Pairing: Eventually Faberry
Warning: Angst! ANGST!!!

Prologue
Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The Berrys sat across from Quinn in the hospital cafe, watching as she stared at her coffee, eyes listless and empty.

Abraham reached across the table to gently take hold of her hand. “It’s not your fault. Really.”

Quinn sat quietly, thinking. The men just looked at each other, waiting for her to break the silence.

“My sister was hearing impaired,” the blonde blurted out. “I can help Rachel... adjust, maybe. I’m fluent in ASL, so...” The men stared at her, perplexed. “I... I have a lot of money saved up, and I can take time off from my job, since I’m pretty sure they were going to offer me the option of working from home anyway. My stocks are doing really well...” Peter raised an eyebrow, and cocked his head, confused. “I... I just want to help her.”

“She won’t think it’s your fault; you know that, right?”

She looked away. “I’d blame me, if I were in her shoes...” Her eyes were broken, haunted. After having seen Rachel in the bed, Quinn was absolutely stunned. She had given up the opportunity to save someone who, when they had been younger, was so full of talent that it leaked out of her pores. Rachel was nominated for a Tony, and now she’d never sing again.

Abraham squeezed her hand comfortingly. “But Rachel’s not you.” He gave her a little broken smile, which she found herself unable to return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rachel’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked around at the bland and empty hospital room. Her brow furrowed, and she opened her mouth to speak, to see if anyone was around. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out, only an odd wheezing breathless thing. Rachel’s eyes widened, and she tried again, hands moving to her throat. There were... bandages there. Bandages that covered wounds caused by... she wracked her brain, and suddenly a previously foggy memory surfaced in remarkable clarity.

Tony nominations, drinking with cast mates, getting tipsy; walking through an alley as a shortcut (to where?); hands grabbing her mouth, her arm; rough demands for quiet, for money; cold steel on her throat; soft cries to just please let her go, you can have everything, just please not the throat, please let her go, please help; watching crowds pass by, uncaring and ignorant; a single person stopping, blonde hair shining in the streetlight; louder pleas for aid, hope fluttering in her chest; pain, blossoming pain, across her throat, body falling, heart bleeding, and the person with the golden hair flips open her phone and simply walks away. All that remains is pain, ever increasing, ever constant pain, as she gasps for air on the alleyway floor.

Street noises.

Darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn lagged behind Rachel’s fathers as they went back to Rachel’s room. So when they began running towards it, where several orderlies were entering, she ended up chasing after them in her heels. She was pushed into the doorknob, and stood, winded, in the crowded doorway, as two separate orderlies held down the thrashing woman in the bed, and a third advanced on her with a gas mask. The bandages around Rachel’s neck were wrecked; the wounds had reopened and were bleeding profusely. Quinn stared as the mask was lowered over Rachel’s face, watched as she stilled in the bed, and, just as brown eyes were closing, they connected unflinchingly with hazel. The blonde shivered at the desperate, crazed and panicked look in Rachel’s eyes, the devastation too much for her to bear.

There had been absolutely no spark of humanity from the woman in the bed. Rachel hadn’t even been present with them.

Doctors streamed past her in slow motion, scrubs on and ready to save the diva, who was still bleeding from her neck wounds, bleeding red red red. The orderly that had handled the gas mask went to find restraints in case the diva woke up again and another episode occurred, while the two that had held her down stripped off bloody latex gloves, depositing them in the yellow medical waste bin. Still Quinn stood in the doorway, staring at the prone form of a girl from her memories through a veil of doctors that worked furiously to staunch the flow of blood. The blood that had seeped into the sheets and bandages and everywhere was a garish red that just burned into Quinn’s mind until she couldn’t see any other color.

One of the orderlies put a hand on her shoulder, moved into her vision, mouth opening and closing, up and down, but she couldn’t hear a sound. “What?!” she wanted to yell, “What could possibly be more important than making sure Rachel is okay?” but her mouth wouldn’t work, so she stood dumbly in the doorway until the orderly led her out of the room, closing the door behind them, and to a chair.

Slowly, color and sound returned to her. She turned to the stranger next to her, and saw a streak of red on their face. Rachel’s blood, she realized. Rachel’s blood, that Quinn had caused to come out of her, because she hadn’t done the right thing. She hadn’t done anything to save Rachel and now everything was going to fall apart for the diva. Everything.

And it was all Quinn’s fault.

The orderly asked if she’d be okay, then, after the smallest of nods from Quinn, left to see what they could help with back in the room. Quinn’s eyes moved lifelessly to the floor, staring at the pale linoleum tiles, counting the speckles on each tile, if only to take her mind off what was happening back inside. She heard a soft sob, mangled and broken, and by the time she realized it came from her own throat, she was falling apart in the chair, tears streaming down her face.

By the time she could breathe again, she noticed that she wasn’t the only broken one in the hallway, that Rachel’s dads were there too. She made her way over to them as they clutched tearfully at each other, and when they noticed she was there, they opened their arms for her, and she fell in, desperate for human contact. She whimpered apology after apology for hurting their darling little girl, their little gold star, and they only pulled her tighter into themselves, whispering through their own tears that it was okay, that they forgave her and thank you for helping us keep our little girl. She’s alive, it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault, we forgive you.

We forgive you.

Quinn cried herself to sleep in their arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Rachel’s drug-induced sleep, she kept reliving that moment. That moment when who she had been sure would be her savior turned and walked away. She could hear herself calling, screaming, “Please, please turn around, please help me, please just... save me!” but the blonde woman never heard her, and just pulled out her cellphone, again and again.

“Please...”

She could smell the acrid scent of blood, which she knew was her own. She could taste it, even, as it mixed with the flavor of fear and dirt. The pain was all encompassing, and she knew, just knew that there would be no way she would be able to be fully herself again, after this. She just watched the blonde, hand outstretched imploringly.

Turn around, please, just turn around, notice me, save me, help me.

But the blonde never turned, never showed her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Quinn regained consciousness, she found herself in a cot in Rachel’s room. The woman’s bandages had been changed, as had her sheets. They were a pristine white. There was absolutely no sign that anything had happened there at all earlier, except for the new restraints that held her to the bed. Her fathers sat around it, eyes hollow, but they looked up when Quinn moved. Abraham tried to smile, eyes still shining with tears, and Quinn felt broken again.

She slid her legs off the cot and walked carefully to Rachel’s bed, sitting next to her in the quiet of the room, the silence only broken by the beeping of the heart monitor. Quinn fingered the straps of leather holding Rachel’s arms and body, and shivered. She knew those, she’d seen them before. They were for suicide prevention, amongst other things.

“The doctor said...” Quinn looked up at the Berry men, and Peter swiped a hand at his eyes. “He said there’s nothing they can do after what just happened... her voice box is too damaged at this point, and the chance that she’ll be able to talk again is incredibly slim. There will be absolutely no singing. Ever.” He clenched his jaw, and Abraham reached out and pulled his husband into a tight embrace.

Quinn’s eyes watered, heartbroken at the idea of the world losing such talent. She stroked the brunette’s limp hand, then held onto it, touching it to her forehead as she let out a stream of apologies, back bowed. “I’ll do anything to make this better. Anything. I’m sorry.”

TBC

A/N: AHHH!!!!!!! THIS FICCCCC *dies* It's getting too emotional for me, but I'll still write it, because I want them to be happy. I just couldn't continue writing this chapter... <3

Fire Flower

vsquared_k — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 17:44:06 GMT

Title: Fire Flower
Length: ~500?
Rating: G
Pairing: Faberry
WARNING: FLUFF!!!!!!
Spoilers: Puck likes Mario
Summary: Based off a request on tumblr from tutorgurltigger: Write a Faberry drabble about cross-dressing.

a/n: feel free to leave me drabble prompts and stuff on tumblr *nods* I'll try to fill them :D

“Look, Rachel, there is NO WAY I’m going outside with you while you look like THAT.” Quinn stood in Rachel’s foyer, tapping her foot in irritation. She crossed her arms over her pink dress, furrowing her brow as she glared at what Rachel was wearing.

“But it’s a PAIR costume, Quinn! If you’re dressed like this,” She gestured to Quinn’s outfit, complete with the umbrella, radish, mushroom and little crown on her head, “as your girlfriend, I am entitled to dress like this!” She poked at her fake moustache and played with her fatsuit and overalls. “The height difference is great as well, so…”

“You could have been DAISY!! Or, like, I could have been Zelda, and you could have been Link!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE MARIO!!” Quinn’s eye twitched in rage, and Rachel took a step back.

“I… like Mario? I could have been Bowser, if that’s what you’d prefer…”

Quinn rolled her eyes, and whirled around, her long blonde curly hair trailing in her wake. “I give up, Rach; you do whatever. We’re going to be late for Puck’s stupid video game costume party. I’ll be waiting at your car.” Rachel could hear her muttering about Jews and their obsession with stupid video games and Mario under her breath. At the car, she turned back to the house. “You know, Mario, your princess will be in another castle if you don’t hurry up.”

Rachel sighed, before reaching into the closet to grab something before bounding after the blonde. “I… got you something.”

Quinn just raised her eyebrow, unimpressed, until Rachel handed a bouquet of red, orange, yellow and white tulips to her.

“I… couldn’t get actual fire flowers or whatever, but these are as close as I could get… and…” She reached into the fat suit, and pulled out a little green plush dinosaur. “Here.” Rachel looked away, despondent, and pouted. “I… know you don’t like my outfit or whatever, but I… I want you to be happy.”

Quinn’s stern face melted at Rachel’s pout, and she cupped the brunette’s face tenderly. “I love it, really, Rachel. I’m just sad that my hot girlfriend doesn’t want to show her sexiness at the party, but I guess this way I don’t have to use my radish to fend off handsy people, right?”
Rachel smiled, peering up at the blonde through her lashes. “Really?”

Quinn leaned in, planting a chaste kiss on her girlfriend’s lips, lingering a little before pulling back. “Really. Now let’s go to that party.”

The Best Things in Life Are Given Freely (1/1)

vsquared_k — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 14:43:36 GMT

Title: The Best Things in Life Are Given Freely
Author: vsquared_k
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Quinn, Side Santana/Brittany and Mike/Tina, rest of Glee cast
Rating: PG
Summary: Future!fic Marriage!fic; Based on this prompt
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: 6052
Spoilers: Most recent? *shrug*
Warning: FLUFFFF!!! Well, my attempt at Fluff, anyway

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY OOC RACHBERRY!!!!!! :D
A/N2: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
A/N3: The song mentioned is You and I, by Michael Buble
A/N4: I'm never entering every character's head ever again... that was incredibly difficult and surprisingly hard... And some of these characters are a little messed up, I think. I hope the characterization is correct! Anyway, enjoy!!

The wedding was perfect. Despite Rachel’s cold feet, and Quinn hyperventilating before the ceremony, everything went off without a hitch.

They had gone the traditional route, returning to the brides’ hometown (it was good they were both from the same town, or there may have been some minor arguments), and many of their previous friends and acquaintances had seen fit to come to the wedding after seeing an article on it in the local paper (being a celebrity had its perks, though those that the women had actually wanted to invite to the wedding had received handwritten invitations months prior), making it much more packed than it would have been back in New York. Rachel stood in front of Matt Rutherford (who had apparently become a pastor, and was more than happy to bring the two of them into holy matrimony) at the pulpit, scanning the crowd, and saw so many people that had shaped her and her soon-to-be-wife’s lives, from early on in their lives up until they had left for New York (separately) after graduation, that she was strangely touched (despite the fact that many of the people hadn’t really talked to her, let alone liked her). The live band (Rachel wouldn’t have had it any other way, and strangely enough, Quinn had successfully gotten Santana to wrangle up most of the old jazz band from McKinley) had played the opening strains of the wedding march, everyone stood, Quinn had entered, and any possible misgivings Rachel had were blown away.

The only word that the normally verbose brunette could manage to even think at that point was “Wow.” She shook herself out of her Quinn-induced stupor, quickly turning to her personal assistant/best friend to her left, hissing that if she didn’t have a copy of her vows (even though she had said many times that they’d be memorized, don’t worry), then, so help her, she had better somehow get a copy, because Rachel didn’t remember any of her vows anymore. Her best woman had assuaged her fears by holding up four neatly written index cards, and Rachel, heart at ease, had turned back to her fiancée, and let herself just feel.

Quinn reached the front, and turned to face Rachel, mouthing, ‘Nice tux’. Rachel had grinned then, finally ridding her faced of the flummoxed Dear-Abba-in-heaven-I’m-marrying-her expression that had been marring it for the past three hours. As the rest of the church sat down, she mouthed back, ‘Your dress is amazing. You are amazing,’ and Quinn had smiled a teary smile.

With that, the rest of the ceremony had gone by in a flash. There had been smiles, tears, rings exchanged, “I now pronounce you”s, and kisses that were familiar, but almost like first kisses (because, they were, after all, the first kisses exchanged as a wife-and-wife). People had flocked over to have their photos taken with the internationally renowned theatre actress and her equally renowned novelist wife, and then it was finally time for the reception.

The dinner was magnificent, and toasts were given, dances were danced and cake was cut, smeared on faces and eaten. Bouquets were thrown and caught, and speeches were said throughout the night by the bridal party, the families, current friends, random strangers, so when someone that neither Rachel nor Quinn remembered inviting stood to give a speech while everyone was eating their cake (and upon seeing him stand, Rachel had clutched at Quinn’s arm in... surprise, causing Quinn to squeak), no one thought to give it a second thought.

“Quinn, Rachel...”

The music from the live band slowed, then stopped completely.

“Jacob...”
“Jewfro.” The guests from that time had laughed lightly, thrown into memories of quasi-celebrity gossip blogs, and Jacob Ben Israel the stalkerazzi.

His voice wavered as his hands shook on the wireless microphone. “I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but, well, I’d like to congratulate you both.” Quinn nodded regally, while Rachel started to relax, mentally re-separating past and present. She’d gotten used to paparazzi, but the memories were slightly overwhelming, even if the man no longer wore glasses and had cropped his iconic hair cloud. “Some of us could say that we’d seen this a mile away, while some of us had no idea this was even a possibility, especially after high school.” More tittering. “In fact, some of us... well, we have something to say.”

The many small flat screens around the room (that had been playing a cute slideshow of shared memories between the two women) flickered to a blue screen, and everyone in the room turned their head to the most accessible screen, eager to see what could possible be said through the monitors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jacob Ben Israel

“Testing, testing... is this thing on? God, I haven’t used a camera in forever...” The man walked in front of the camera, and leaned in towards the lens. “Hey, uh, Rachel and Quinn. I know I didn’t really... well, we didn’t get along in high school or anything, but the Glee kids asked if I could help put this thing together or something, so here it is. Uh, actually, it’s Finn’s idea.”

(Rachel turned to Finn, at her groomsmen table, and grinned at him. He’d dressed to the nines in his Navy Officer finery, and she was so glad that he was here for this. He smiled back at her, and pointed to the screen.)

“Anyway, well, congratulations, first off, and... here’s to you guys! May you guys have many years of marital bliss, and may you both continue to be incredibly successful... since you successfully made Lima, Ohio a tourist attraction, don’t you know?”

(Quinn laughed, because her books more often than not took place in Lima, only because there were so many memories for her there, and because that was where she met her wife, who she loved more than anything. She reached over and put her arm around Rachel, leaning in to whisper about crazy fans, which caused Rachel to slap her arm gently, laughing all the while.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The General Glee Club

Artie Abrams

“Hi, guys!” He smiled, waving on screen. He sat in a chair. A regular chair.

(Rachel and Quinn smiled, as most of the room gasped out loud. Wheelchair kid not in a wheelchair? What had happened? Some guests looked around frantically, but didn’t see the man around.)

“So, I don’t think I ever thanked you guys for helping by financing my research that time... It meant the world to me. I... I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding... We’re just putting the final touches on the practical part of this surgery, and soon we’ll be able to get people like me walking again! You two were always so incredible, and I can’t thank you enough for being in my life all those years ago, and supporting the cause now.”

(Rachel’s eyebrows furrowed in thought at that, since she was sure she’d seen the bespectacled man earlier, in his chair. Quinn noticed Finn in the corner of her eye, pointing at the door. She turned and gasped at what she saw.)

“Psych!”

(Rachel had looked up at her wife’s exclamation, and as her eyes widened in surprise, hands covering her mouth to conceal a squeal, other people in the dining hall began to notice as well, turning to see what she was looking at. In the doorway stood Artie, leaning on the doorframe. He walked slowly towards the head table, leaning on various pieces of furniture (or people) on the way. He was obviously still not used to walking.)

“As you can now see, the research was a success... But that wouldn’t have been possible without your fundraising, and all your positive promotion. Seriously, without you two, we never would have been able to beat this.”

(Rachel jumped out of her seat, running to hug Artie, followed in a much more serene manner by Quinn, who was smiling lovingly at her ecstatic wife.)

“Oh, and Rachel? I’m taller than you.”

(The room rumbled with laughter as Rachel quickly let go of the man, stomping back over to her seat. Quinn followed, laughing, and pat her shoulder placatingly when she went to sit down. Rachel was muttering about conspiracies under her breath.)

\o/

Tina Chang

The Asian girl sat on screen, fussing with the young child in her lap. She turned to the screen, pointing. “Say, ‘Hi, Rachel and Quinn!’ ” The adorable toddler repeated her words, albeit in mangled baby speak. “Say, ‘Congratulations!’ ”

“Con-magic-lay-shuns...” The young girl put her fingers in her mouth, obviously shy and unwilling to say much more.

(Rachel clutched at her heart, obviously touched at the sentiment.)

“Here, Honey, take Abigail.” Arms swooped out from offscreen, lifting the little girl away. Soft footfalls could be heard traveling away, and Tina turned back to the screen, smiling. “You know, we kind of fell out of touch over the years, didn’t we? I personally lost touch with Quinn in second semester of freshman year, and Rachel stopped commenting on my Facebook in Junior Year, I think. But I’ve been keeping track of how you two are doing! I’ve made the trip to see each of your plays, Rachel, and I have all of Quinn’s books... your award winning article is framed and hanging on my wall.” Tina smiled warmly at the camera. “I’m so proud of you two. I’m really happy you found each other, like I knew you eventually would.” The camera zoomed in on her profile.

(Rachel looked bewildered, and in awe. Quinn just raised a questioning eyebrow towards the Asian.)

“Rachel, I know you always said you were psychic, but womanly intuition is rarely wrong in my family. That, and I spent a lot of time in high school watching people; you two were pretty obvious with everything.”

“It’s true!” The camera zoomed out, to reveal

Mike Chang.

He smiled and waved at the camera, before settling into his seat and throwing an arm around his wife.

(The man in real life mirrored his on screen counterpart. Tina reached up to interlace their fingers together. The newly married couple smiled happily at them.)

“You two would always stare so passionately at each other, and would nit pick at the smallest things!”

“Quinn would be all antagonistic, starting weird arguments over boys, or some random odd things... Teasing Rachel for no reason, even.”

Mike grinned. “It was like a little boy in a schoolyard with a crush.”

(Rachel laughed as Quinn turned beet red, completely embarrassed. She’d heard it plenty of times before, but it was still embarrassing.)

“When I heard that you were both heading to New York, I knew you two would bump into each other again and hit it off.”

“Who knew it’d take six years? And that it’d happen through another mutual ex?”

“You’d think they’d have had enough of those in high school...”

(The room laughed, and the men in question perked up, amused.)

Tina poked her husband. “It was their first mutual girlfriend, though, I hear...”

“Annnnnd the last.” Tina harrumphed, and turned back to grin at the camera.

“We love you both so much, and we’re both so incredibly happy for you.” Mike nodded on screen, beaming. “Congratulations on your wedding.”

\o/

Lauren Zizes

“What are you doing here, Jacob?” Lauren was seated on a chair, sifting through her mail.

“Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry are getting married, so Finn wanted to...”

“Oh, did they finally hook up? And why do I care?”

“Finn wanted to make a congratulatory video for them. From the Glee Club.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” Lauren pulled out a decorative envelope from her pile of mail. “You want me to say congratulations, right? I guess I can do that... are you guys going to have cake? I think I'll only go if you guys have a delicious cake."

(Rachel looked between Jacob and Quinn quizzically... The former looked away apologetically, while Quinn just shrugged, completely confused.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Ex Boyfriends

Jesse St. James

Jesse sat at his piano, arms folded across his chest, straddling the piano bench. “Hello, Rachel, Quinn. I have received word that you’re getting married...” His eyebrows raised. “To each other, even!” He threw on leg over the bench, sitting to face the piano, and turned back to the camera. “I prepared a song of congratulations, if you don’t mind.”

He started playing the intro, smiling. “I saw, many years ago, a young woman who was out of college, in debt, and looking for jobs.” (Quinn started blushing, because she knew what he was going to play, and she knew he knew just how embarrassing this would be. Rachel started beaming for exactly the same reason.) “She’d met someone special, and, well, she wanted to sing them a song... I guess to woo her or something extravagantly romantic, because this special person was inclined towards this kind of thing. She sang this song to her, a little over six years ago.” He paused what he was playing, and grinned a real not-show-face grin at the camera. “...and now they’re getting married.”

He played again, singing out the words of adoration in his velvety smooth voice. (Quinn couldn’t help singing along, since it was her song to Rachel, after all, and she still meant it all. She still believed that God had made them fall in love, that she wanted Rachel by her side, that they’d conquer the world. Rachel would always be in her mind... Their love would see them through anything the world could throw at them. It would always be just her and Rachel, nothing else would ever matter to her.) He finished the last rolled cord and turned back to the camera, smirking his signature smirk. “Congratulations on the wedding, girls.”

(Rachel smiled warmly at him, giving him a thumbs up, while Quinn just shook her head, hiding her blush.)

\o/

Sam Evans

“You know, I could have told you that Quinn was using me as a gay beard... I mean, I was using her as a gay beard, too, back then. New school, new people, new me, right? So I tried to change, and hide my gayness. It was scary, and Quinn was the first person who seemed to get that, and we were both what we needed, back then. So, like, I was her perfect manly quarterback, and she was my perfect cheerleader girlfriend.”

Sam, with his glasses and his smile and his dark, dark brown faux hawk, sat on his lounge chair. “It was pretty obvious, so I never really pushed any further than I was supposed to, since I had to keep my image or whatever, and she never pushed. We both knew, though she did more subconsciously than I did...”

He nodded appreciatively towards the camera. “Thanks for that, Fabray.”

(Quinn smiled at Sam, glad that the man had been there for her when she didn’t know that she needed someone like him. Rachel smiled towards him as well, knowing all about the high school thing. They’d all talked about it a lot since, and it was a common funny story in their household.)

“Well,” he rolled his eyes, “I guess I lost our bet, though, since you’re getting married before I even found my man, but if you two do what you promised, maybe I can find someone at this reception of yours... I mean, I helped keep THE Quinn Fabray in the closet, after all...” He laughed, “Rachel’s really lucky, you know. You almost turned me straight a couple times, you know, with that thing you do with your tongue.”

(Rachel nodded emphatically, obviously agreeing with this assessment. Quinn giggled at her wife’s antics as Rachel laced their fingers together.)

“You keep your girl safe, alright, Quinn? Love her right.”

\o/

Finn Hudson

Finn was sitting on his couch, smiling. “Congratulations to, uh, two of my ex-girlfriends, I guess. Congratulations on getting married.” He rubbed the back of his head, grinning. “Man, those were the days, weren’t they? High school, I mean. They say it’s the best years of our lives, but I don’t think so. We didn’t have very good times in high school, other than in Glee club... And, I mean, you guys have your best years right in front of you, for the rest of your lives! You have each other! And you’re happy!”

(Quinn laughed, nodding. She wrapped her arm around Rachel’s waist, and glared mock-protectively at Finn before grinning widely when Rachel poked her waist in mock annoyance.)

“It’s weird, I mean... I loved both of you back then, you know? But now that you two are together, I can see you both are really good together.” He thought a little. “Really good.”

(Rachel laughed lightly at his eloquence, while Finn blushed, knowing that what he’d said wasn’t the best of things.)

“I never would’ve thought so in high school though. Man... Anyway, I really like that you both sent me letters back when you were in college and stuff, all the way back to basic training or whatever. Did you know that? Well, duh, you know that... because now you both send me a really big letter, and I can always tell who writes what even when you both sign at the end, because Rachel always uses big words and Quinn’s just... Quinn.”

He smiled then, gently. “Rachel asked in her last letter if... well, if you guys ever have a kid, if I wanted to be godfather. I don’t mind... I think that’d be really cool.” He wrinkled his nose, with a faraway look in his eye. “I’m really glad I met you two, and I’m really glad you found each other, even if I got all confused about it when I first heard about it. You two are good together.”

\o/

Noah Puckerman

“Hey, Hot Jew, Baby Mama,”

(Rachel and Quinn both glared at him, indignant. He laughed from his place at the Glee Club table, clearly enjoying their irate behavior.)
 
“So I dunno what I’m supposed to say here. Congratulations, I guess. You two make for the best bragging stories, ‘cause I made out with both of you, and you’re both all famous and shit now.”

(Rachel stuck her tongue out at Puck, and turned away, while Quinn just turned red while attempting to stay sane.)

“Oh! Oh, yeah! I have this thing... I found it the other day in my old computer. I didn’t really have anything to do, you know, ‘cause all my junk’s up in LA now, so... Anyway, I found this video... I think I took it with my phone in senior year. No clue why it isn’t on youtube, because it totally woulda gone viral. I’ll, uh, give it to the Jewmeister, and he can just, I dunno, edit it in or something? Yeah.”

The video cut to a low quality video of Quinn, obviously drunk, slurring her words together.

(Rachel turned back to the screen with interest, as Quinn turned absolutely pale.)

“You know what’s not cool? Manhands isn’t cool.” The Quinn on the screen flopped over onto a couch. “Like, she’s horrible! With her sexy legs, and tight ass. And her voice! It’s like an angel! So not cool...” She muttered something under her breathe as the person holding the cell phone laughed, making the screen jitter.

“How’s that not cool?” The voice was distinctly that of Santana.

(Quinn glared at the Latina, who shrugged, obviously amused.)

On-screen Quinn lifted her her head from her knees, and plainly stated, “She’s going to leave me behind. That’s totally and completely not cool.”

(The guests laughed as Quinn hid her face, mortified. Rachel rubbed her wife’s back, completely smitten by the video. She leaned into her wife, whispering sweet nothings until the blonde lifted her head and reached over to hold Rachel’s hand.)

The video cut back to Puck, who was laughing. The camera was shaking too, so it was obvious that the videographer saw the video as well. “You were really repressed back then, weren’t you, Baby Mama? Well, I’m happy you stopped being that way, and you better keep my Hot Jew girl happy, or I’ll steal her back with my awesome guns and Jew skills.”

(Quinn pointed at Puck, mouthing, “You’re next,” before swiping her finger under her neck, miming a beheading. Rachel laughed beside her, holding Quinn’s other hand tightly, fingers interlocked.)

"Oh, right... Ma'd kill me if I didn't say it. So, Rachel? Mazel Tov!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Adults

Will Schuester

“Wow, guys! You’re getting married!” He gesticulated with his hands, then ran his hands through his (greying) hair. “I’m so happy for you! I still can’t really believe it though, because you girls really weren’t the best of friends in high school...” He chuckled. “Remember how Quinn always wanted to punch Rachel in the face in Glee club?” He shook his head. “Those were the days.”

(Rachel laughed too, because she knew now that Quinn had just been hiding behind a façade all those years, afraid of who she was. Quinn tightened her grip on Rachel’s shoulders, and leaned over to lightly kiss the one closest to her. She was still certain she hadn’t apologized for it enough, but was willing to let it go because Rachel had done so long ago.)

“Even though you weren’t the best of friends, you both pushed each other.” He smiled warmly. “You always pushed each other to be better people; don’t think that just because I’m a teacher, I don’t see these things. There was competition there... and you two thrived on it.” He chuckled. “The invincible Quinn Fabray and the indomitable Rachel Berry.” He shook his head good-naturedly. “I don’t think I’ll ever have two students that were as... well, amazing as you two. No one was as talented, or as driven, as you two.”

“I’m really happy that you’ve both found happiness with each other. Just... Quinn? Don’t punch Rachel, okay?”

(Quinn gave a little salute at the man, and Rachel let a massive grin spread across her face, waving over at him. He waved back, and leaned back into his chair, watching his former students in their happiness.)

\o/

Emma Pillsbury-Howell

“Well...” She steepled her hands, smiling. There were new wrinkles on her face, smile lines. “I’m genuinely happy for you two.”

(Rachel pointed excitedly at how the desk was messy. Quinn shushed her, giggling.)

“I watched you two grow as students, and... I watched you two take Nationals, and I am very glad to say that I even helped as a guidance counselor for both of you at some point.” She smiled. “We’ve also been keeping tabs on your progress, kind of. As a town, really. I think you girls are doing really well in life, and, well, I’m happy for you.” She started fiddling with a pencil on her desk, obviously slightly distracted.

“I hope you two have a very happy marriage. You seem to have blossomed into wonderful adults, and this marriage will help you grow even more!” She nodded emphatically. “It’s obvious you two adore one another, you’ll have a great life ahead of you.”

She beams at the camera. “Congratulations on your wedding.”

The footage cut to Emma sitting at her desk and cleaning it meticulously. Jacob’s voice came through as a whisper. “She wanted to look less... obsessive for you two. I’m not sure why...”

(Emma groaned from her seat, and the room laughed. Quinn patted Rachel’s arm as they both smiled fondly at the kind guidance counsel\lor.)

\o/

Sue Sylvester

“I guess congratulations are in order, Q. You’re getting married to a troll. I’m not even sure if she reaches my kneecaps.” She smirked, amused. “Though, I have to admit that you’ve done good, even if you’re still steeped in mediocrity. Figgins put up a sign at the front of the school with famous alumni. I’m proud to say that my youngest cheer captain is front and center on that, even if she’s a pansy who writes stories for a living.” She crossed her arms, and raised her chin haughtily at the camera. “Not bad for a former protogé of one Sue Sylvester. I’ve seen better, like with Ghandi, but at least saying your name doesn’t make me want to vomit in my mouth.”

(Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at that, because Sue was still Sue, and really hadn’t changed at all. Rachel looked a little put out, but she really hadn’t interacted much with the woman, outside of the menacing woman wanting to ruin her career, so really, there wasn’t much she could do.)

“I’m still a little disappointed you joined that group of mouth breathers, but I guess it was all for something good, right? You met your dwarf, and now you’re getting married.” She nodded, eyes suddenly turning gentle. “Sometimes true love can be found in the weirdest places... I’m proud of you, Q.”

\o/

Principal Figgins

“Uh, congratulations, Mrs. Fabray and Mrs. Fabray, on your wedding... today. We at McKinley High School are proud to have both of you as our alumni. Today is a day of celebration.” Figgins looked up at the camera, clearly uncomfortable. “You have both raised the standing of your school, both of Glee club and of the Cheerios. I would like to thank you for causing our funding to triple, because we at McKinley have the capability to produce such highly astounding alumni.”

“Any particular message you want to send... personal or otherwise, to the brides?” Jacob is clearly as uncomfortable as Figgins. The older man shook his head.

“Congratulations again, ladies, and may God bless your union.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Other Cheerios

Mercedes Jones

“Oh, hell to the nah, you did not schedule your wedding for when I was on tour.” The feisty diva placed a hand on her hip, shaking her head. “I know ya’ll have busy schedules and don’t have much time and all, but couldn’t you have waited ‘til I was free? I wanna be there for my girls!”

(Rachel grinned broadly, lacing their fingers together as they watched their absent friend on the screen.)

“My man Kurt’s there for me, but... I really wanted to be there! I’ll pop by your apartment some time after the honeymoon or something, I guess.” She smiled. “I love you both with all my heart, but I was seriously wondering when one of you two would get your head out of your ass, and propose already. I mean, it’s been, what? Six years of dating?”

(Rachel corrected the absent diva quite loudly, stating that it’d been seven years. The crowd laughed raucously.)

“And years longer of Quinn pining after you, did you know that, Rachel? She was before she moved in with me that one time. You two are ridiculous... When I first heard from Tina and Mike that you two had gotten together all those years ago, I seriously went out for drinks in celebration, and I was in Barcelona!”

(Quinn laughed. She knew it to be true, because Mercedes had Skyped with her the day after, completely hung over, to ask her if she’d gotten lucky (which she had). She then said that it was ‘mother fuckin’ time, girlfriend,’ but Rachel didn’t need to know that.)

“Oh, and I heard from Kurt! Congratulations there too, girls!” She winked. “I guess you’re really that good, Rach!”

\o/

Kurt Hummel

“You know, girls, I always thought there was some sort of fiery passion between you two...” Kurt on the video crossed his legs, and winked saucily at the camera. “I mean, always snipping at each other throughout high school. You know, I was always wondering if maybe there was something... I guess I was right after all.” His eyebrow climbed up his face as he smirked, looking pointedly at the camera. “You two pinged my gaydar so very much in high school...”

(Rachel smiled bashfully at the man as Quinn played with her wife’s fingers. Kurt smiled back, miming an “I love you,” which had Rachel reaching again for a serviette to dab her eyes with.)

“I’m sorry for stealing your solos in high school, Rachel. I mean, I’m good enough to, since I am in the business now for a reason, after all. We’ve even shared the stage before, Miss...es Fabray, I guess it will be at this point, right?”

(Beaming, Quinn made a quick swipe of her eyes, she hoped she never got used to that. Rachel Berry was no longer Rachel Berry, she was Rachel Fabray, and... she just couldn’t get over that.)

“Well, I don’t have all that much to say here, since I practically see you guys every week, so... you already know how I feel about you two, and how I feel about this marriage, and how proud I am to know you two...” He chuckled. “You guys are going to make great mothers.”

(A collective gasp was heard through the gathering. Rachel glared pointedly at Kurt, laying a protective hand on Quinn’s stomach.)

“Oh, whoops... was I not supposed to give that away? I’m sorry.” Kurt on screen smirked (just as much as Kurt in real life did, but no one can seemed to care all that much, because Rachel couldn’t begrudge him that, since he was the sperm donor, after all.). “I’m a baby daddy!”

\o/

Brittany Pierce-Lopez

“Quinn! Rachel! I can’t believe you’re getting married!” The blonde smiled widely. “Now you’re like San and me!” The dancer’s eyes were twinkling. “Make sure you stay really happy, okay? And make sure you call us a lot more; San gets sad when you two don’t call...”

(Santana scowled playfully at her wife, who winked at the married couple. Quinn just smirked at Santana.)

“San bet me five years ago that we’d get married before you did, so you made me lose fifty dollars, you know... but I think San used that to take me out one time, so that’s okay. I hope you guys stay happy forever, like me and San will!”

A jingling sound was quickly followed by a blur jumping into Brittany’s lap. “Hi, Hidalgo!” The little puppy yipped. “Rachel and Quinn are getting married!” Another yip. “Yeah! I know! It’s so exciting!” His little tail wiggled back and forth, and Brittany nuzzled the pup, clearly as excited as he. She sat with the dog for a while with a blank stare on her face, before her face brightened. “Hidalgo says to pass on his most sincere well wishes towards you on your wedding day, and that he hopes you guys will have a blessed union. I think.”

(Rachel raised an eyebrow in jest, clearly used to the peculiarities of her friend. Quinn giggled, mouthing to Brittany to thank Hidalgo very much.)

“Anyway, I’ll see you at your wedding!! Bye!” Brittany waved, and Hidalgo let out a single high-pitched bark.

\o/

Santana Pierce-Lopez

“You guys are finally married. Seriously? You two are so incredibly mushy I kinda wanna vomit sometimes. I have no idea why you waited so long to get married. Even me and B beat you! But it’s nice to see that you got past your crazy, blondie; and, well, midget, you turned out all right after all. Look after my girl. No, seriously, look after her, or I’ll cut a bitch. I’ve known you two for, uh.... a really long time. Sometimes, I think it’s a bit too long. I’ve seen how you both saw both sides of each other. I have absolutely no idea how Rachel still fell for you after everything in high school, Quinn, but she did. Lucky you, I guess, but you deserve someone who loves you as much as the midget does. I have no idea how you even got passed all the shit we put you through, Rachel, to even see us without wanting to run screaming, but you did, and I’m so incredibly happy you did. You’re one incredible lady, hobbit. Really.”

(Rachel and Quinn looked adoringly at each other, before turning to the Latina and mouthing “we love you”. The Latina smiled back, then grimaced, as she remembered what was coming next.)

“Oh, by the way, I bribed Jewfro so I could be last... kinda because I was hoping you wouldn’t hear me say this... Quinn. She’s good for you. Look after her, because Lord knows she looks after you. Rachel, she’s... you’ve made her a better person, and she’s made you a better person too. You never let her go. You guys are amazing together, and always will be.”

(Quinn kissed the crown of Rachel’s head as the brunette finally gave up dabbing her eyes, swiping madly at them instead. Her grin never fell away.)

“If you’ve heard all this... Why haven’t you snuck out of your reception yet? What is wrong with you two? Go! Have sex! Early honeymoon or something!”

(Rachel and Quinn both let out teary laughs with the rest of the audience, blushing at the implication. Rachel turned to Santana, pointing at the woman and mouthing, “Thank you”. The Latina rolled her eyes, grinning. Brittany clasped her hand tightly as Quinn grinned at the couple.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn collapsed on the bed in their honeymoon suite, completely satiated. “C’mere, you,” she growled playfully, reaching out to pull her wife (Oh Gawd, Rachel was her WIFE) into her naked and sweaty body. Her grin was mirrored on Rachel’s face as she leaned upwards from her wife’s embrace to pepper anything and everything she could reach with breathless kisses.

“I love you, Mrs. Fabray.”

Quinn, upon hearing that from her wife’s mouth, captured Rachel’s bottom lip lightly between her teeth, proceeding to kiss her languidly. Breaking apart while later, she smiled lovingly at the brunette in her arms. “God, why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“Get married?” Rachel asked, with a smirk on her face. She knew exactly what her wife was really thinking about.

“Well, that too... I was going for married sex. Gawd, this is amazing.” She stroked Rachel’s back lightly, drawing little things on her ribs with her fingertip. “Santana’s right... Why didn’t we sneak out earlier?”

“Of our own reception? Oh, I don’t know! Because we’re good hostesses, and we could wait that out! Besides, I wanted to thank everyone for coming.” Rachel closed her eyes, leaning into her wife’s touches. “And... I have you for a whole 3 weeks. Waiting a little longer made this first time so much more worth it.” She moved to straddle the blonde, kissing her way up her throat. Her hair fell like a curtain between their faces as she leaned forward slowly, rubbing their noses together. “You’re amazing, and I’m so happy I found you again,” was whispered into Quinn’s lips before the blonde surged upwards to connect their lips in a passionate kiss.

When they broke up, Quinn giggled, and flipped them over. “I think I’m ready for another round, Mrs. Fabray...”

Rachel cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, Mrs. Fabray?” Her hands stroked the blonde’s hips lightly.

“Yeah, Mrs. Fabray. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Fin

I can make you feel real good (2/?)

vsquared_k — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 01:56:16 GMT

Title: I can make you feel real good (2/?)
Rating: PG (this one) / NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 3000+
Spoilers: Duets? Let's just say NBK...
Summary: Based on this prompt:
Quinn and Rachel not quite friends - Quinn finishes cheerleading practice one day with very tight muscles. Rachel gives her a surprisingly amazing massage. Quinn then seeks Rachel out for massages which get more and more heated.
Pairings: Eventual Faberry, with mentions of Fabrevans and Finchel

Chapter One

When Quinn Fabray woke up one morning several weeks later, she was cursing. She was cursing for a multitude of reasons.

Firstly, it was morning, and she was clearly not a morning person. Secondly, she had morning Cheerios practice before school, so, unlike 95% of the student population of Lima, Ohio, she had to be up before the sun was. Thirdly, she could feel all sorts of stiffness settling in on her shoulders and back, and had been feeling it since Rachel’s mind-blowing massage (she wasn’t cursing the massage, just that the massage made her aware of just how stiff she normally was).

Lastly, and most importantly, she was cursing herself for not having the presence of mind to have asked for Rachel’s number before. It wasn’t like she could risk anyone at school hearing her ask Rachel for her number! She couldn’t risk it, she was barely back on top as it was!

So she struggled through Cheerios morning practice, suffered through classes, and tried really hard not to glare a hole through Rachel during Glee club in a sad attempt to get her attention. Wasn’t Berry supposed to be psychic? Weren’t people supposed to be able to feel someone’s gaze or something?

Brittany reached across Santana to tap her on the shoulder. “Did Rachel do something to you?” She whispered. Quinn shook her head, still glaring. Pay. Attention. To. Me. Manhands. Rachel shifted in her chair, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. “Why are you looking at her so much, then? Because it looks like you’re trying to get her pregnant...”

Quinn whipped her head around, a comical amalgamation of confusion and shock on her face. “What?” She hissed, brow furrowed.

Santana leaned forward, blocking Brittany from view. “It’s true. You look like you want in Treasure Trail’s pants.” The Latina smirked, “Something you’re not telling us, Quinnie?”

“Ew. No. Just... no. And don’t call me that; it’s gross.” A scowl flitted across her face, and she turned back to Mr. Shuester... well, Rachel. I. Need. A. Massage. Rachel. Berry. Pay. Attention. To. Me. Gawd!

Rachel quickly turned around and smiled widely at Quinn, before nodding subtly and turning back to Mr. Shuester. Wait, what? Quinn’s befuddlement was getting a little out of hand.

About an hour later, Quinn walked out of the club room with Sam’s arm around her waist. “You want to do something later tonight?”

She looked up at him, amused smile on her face. “By do something, you mean make out, right?” He smiled sheepishly, nodding, and she smirked at him, head swirling slightly. “Sorry, I have some plans tonight... some other time?” He squeezed her side lightly, and she tensed until his hand dropped off her waist. He voiced his agreement, then walked down a different hall to his locker. Quinn exhaled sharply, not completely aware that she had even held her breath before continuing to her own, stopping slightly short of it when she saw Rachel waiting for her there. “Manhands... nice of you to grace my locker with your presence.”

Rachel smirked. “You need a massage, right?” Quinn nodded. “I need a ride today, as my parents are both busy. And I might possibly need help with chemistry.”

Quinn chuckled, and opened her locker, rifling through it for her things. “Well, lucky for you I’m good at chemistry, then, right, Berry?”

“Lucky me!” Rachel stated, whirling her fingers in fake cheer, before stopping short. “Hey, I should totally try out for the Cheerios. I’d be a great cheerleader, especially with my many years of dance and gymnastics training!” Her eyes sparked with mischief. “Look at my enthusiasm!”

Quinn chuckled, before closing her locker. Who knew Berry could be funny? “Let’s go, Crazy Face.”

\o/

Rachel crawled into the car, and smiled. “Let’s try my house this time, Quinn. I left some of my chemistry notes there that I’ll be needing, so we might as well just go there.” Quinn nodded... that made sense. Rachel’s place was on the way, anyway.

Quinn started her car, and Rachel immediately reached over to turn on the radio, flipping through stations as Quinn pulled out of the parking lot. “I love this song!” Rachel crowed, before humming along happily. Quinn was surprised... Rachel had settled on jazz, of all things.

She liked smooth jazz for the most part, but not... classic jazz, which they were stuck on. Quinn tried quite hard to not be bothered by the music from her speakers, but after a couple minutes, she just couldn’t take it anymore. At the next stop light, she reached over and changed the radio station to the college radio, and Rachel pouted. “Look, we’re almost at your house anyway. And I’m driving... Try to sing along or something. There’s always some weird indie stuff on after school...”

Rachel perked up, grinning. A generic indie rock song started playing, and, strangely enough, Rachel could hum along after a while, despite Quinn never having even heard of the band before. She was impressed. “Are there any songs you don’t know?”

Rachel nodded, smiling smugly. “It’s not about whether I know the songs... most music today is very generic, and follows the same general melody pattern. If you’re as inundated with music as I am, it’s pretty easy to guess what the composer’s going to go through to next. It’s all pretty easy.” She sighed, leaning back, and, surprisingly enough, Quinn found herself quite interested in what Rachel was saying. “Now, jazz... classical, they don’t do that so much, which is probably why I enjoy them a little more. Jazz has the whole improvisation aspect to the music, and it’s always hard to follow along with them... Classical is just... yeah. Mindblowing.” She closed her eyes, smiling.

Quinn glanced over at Rachel before turning her eyes back onto the road. “I always pegged you for a Broadway kinda gal.”

Rachel chuckled. “Most of you would, but my musical tastes far exceed that of just show tunes. While Barbra Streisand is my idol, there is more to me than just show choir. I press Broadway songs in Glee because that’s what we are: a show choir.” Quinn nodded, smiling. Rachel paused to collect her thoughts, before plowing onwards. “For example, Muse? Their music is delightfully alternative, but I really appreciate how they blend all the different music genres, especially their use of classical music and instruments.”

“Muse?” Quinn was shocked. Rachel Berry liked Muse?

“You don’t know Muse?!” Rachel seemed to be even more shocked than Quinn.

“No! No, I... I love Muse!” Quinn looked a little sheepish. “Just... don’t tell anyone.”

Rachel smirked. “Guilty pleasure of yours?”

Quinn nodded, face a little red. “I used to play the piano, so this one time, when I was at Puck’s, he had a Muse CD in, and.. well, United States of Eurasia started playing, and when it just segued into Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Minor so effortlessly and beautifully, I was blown away...” Quinn pulled into a stop in front Rachel’s house, and turned to see Rachel completely gobsmacked. “What?”

“You know Chopin!” Silence reigned after Rachel’s exclamation.

Quinn finally snorted, then laughed, doubling over her gear shift to pat Rachel’s shoulder in amusement. Rachel huffed a little, but after a while, her face turned up into a small grin as well.

“Any... Oh, that was good, Manhands. Any self-respecting pianist knows about Chopin’s Nocturne,” Quinn said, chuckling. She opened her car door. “Come on, are we going to get this done or what?” Rachel scrambled out quickly, and they walked to Rachel’s door.

“For the record, RuPaul?” Rachel looked up at her, eyebrow cocked. “I still hate you, even if we have similar musical tastes.” The brunette’s nose scrunched up slightly, but she shrugged, and opened the door.

\o/

“Sit.” Rachel pointed at her desk chair. “Back to me.” They had attempted to do their chemistry, but Rachel could tell that Quinn was much too excited about the pending massage to actually get anything done, so she put a stop to their work. Quinn smiled, moving into position.

“So...” she turned her head as Rachel as the brunette moved to stand behind her. Rachel grabbed her head, turning it back away from her, and started rubbing her shoulders soothingly.

“Hmm?” Rachel pressed slightly harder, moving towards her neck. Quinn groaned and relaxed, feeling the tension just flow away as Rachel continued her ministrations. “You didn’t listen to me about the hair drying thing.” With Rachel’s hand working magic on her (unknowingly stiff) neck, Quinn didn’t shake her head, opting to vocalize her answer. “Your neck and shoulders are just going to continue being sore if you don’t dry your hair, you know.” Rachel’s hand moved up her neck to the cavity behind her ears and pushed in, causing Quinn to let out a drawn out moan. Rachel continued to massage there, until Quinn’s head lolled forward, completely relaxed.

“Sorry,” she finally mumbled. Rachel chuckled slightly, moving her hand back down to the blonde’s back, rubbing neat circles that caused Quinn to completely slump over the back of the chair.

“Should I work on your knots today? Or should we wait til next time?” Rachel’s thumbs pushed into Quinn’s lower back and she whimpered.

“God, that hurts so good...” she panted, her eyes closing in bliss. “I don’t, I can’t...” Rachel hit a particularly sensitive spot, and she let out a quiet “Oh, God!”

“Next time, then.” Rachel smiled at having left the cheerleader breathless, and continued massaging her back.. “But I must inform you that massage tables are padded and made for people to lie down on for a reason. Next time, I think it would greatly benefit your experience, and my back as well, if we take this endeavor to the bed.”
 “But...”
 “Fabray. Bed. Now.” Quinn stiffened up completely, and Rachel’s eyebrow raised, amused. She softly squeezed Quinn’s shoulders, then stepped back. “ Never mind... Well... I guess we’re done for the day. I'll get you in my bed at some point, Fabray.” She walked back over to the floor, where they’d been sitting to work on their chemistry. “So... about this carbon molecular arrangement business. Want to explain this to me?”

“The allotropes?” Quin slid out of the chair, still slightly boneless from the massage, and knee-walked over to where Rachel was sitting.

“Yeah, those. I get that there’s, uh, graphite and diamonds or whatever, but why do I have to know what they look like?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon going over chemistry, until Quinn left for home, after getting a call from her mother about supper.

\o/

Somehow, the two of them ended up as lab partners a couple days later. Quinn had watched, amused, as Rachel carefully put the powdered materials on paper towels, then walked slowly to their station.

“There. I got the yellow smelly thing, and that black powdery thing. Now, uh, did you get the sparky thingy and the burny liquid stuff?”

“Yes, I got all those thingies, and do you actually suck at chemistry this much?” Quinn smirked, and Rachel blushed, nodding.

“I have no idea why I would want to take chemistry in the first place... I’m going to be on Broadway! Chemistry isn’t necessary for my future! Anyway, I may need your assistance on the lab write up as well.” She looked around, and leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Tonight? My place? The usual?” Quinn nodded.

“I have Cheerios practice today, but if you wait around, I’ll drive.”

\o/

Quinn was lounging around in shorts and a loose t-shirt on Rachel’s floor when Rachel groaned from her place at her laptop. “I don’t get it!”

“Wanna take a break?”

“That would be lovely, yes.” Getting out of her chair, she moved to her bed, and patted the covers.

“I’m not lying down on your bed, Berry.”

“I don’t expect you to. Come here.” Quinn moved reluctantly, but ended up perched on the side of Rachel’s bed. Rachel moved to kneel behind her.

“You know, you keep breaking my mental image of you.”

“How so?” Rachel’s hands moved slowly down Quinn’s spine, kneading and pressing, until Quinn relaxed, shifting backwards on the bed.

“Well, for one- oh God, ya, right there. Well, your room isn’t pink and sparkly...”

“It’s yellow, yes. I don’t see how you think I’d like pink so much, though.”

“Your wardrobe, Berry.” She paused, hissing when Rachel dug in slightly deeper. “You have an electric guitar, which is wicked cool. Do you play?”

Rachel paused, amused. “I used to, but then I decided that I wasn’t made for the rocker image.” She moved her hands up to Quinn’s shoulders, massaging gently. “Anyway, I’m going to work on your knots now.” Rachel pushed deep into Quinn’s shoulder, causing her to flinch. “This would be so much better if you were lying down.”

“Not a chance, man ha-Berry,” Quinn hissed out through gritted teeth, before gasping when Rachel found a particularly tight knot. “Oh, God!”

“Sorry...” Quinn could almost see Rachel’s apologetic face, but the brunette didn’t stop kneading and working Quinn’s knots. “These are only here because you don’t dry your hair. Well, they’re only this bad because of that.” Quinn exhaled slowly, controlling her breathing. “Will you consider my idea now?”

“What-” A gasp. “-idea?” Quinn whimpered. God, it was like fire coursing through her shoulder, down her arm, and up her neck. The burning... she couldn’t bring herself to think of anything besides the pain. Rachel reached around, placing one hand on top of Quinn’s clenched hands in her lap, squeezing lightly.

“Drying your hair.” Quinn went to laugh, but it came out as a weak ragged whimper. “Also, I’m sorry this has to hurt. It’s the only way to get knots out effectively...” Quinn closed her eyes tightly. “Just... try to relax.”

Quinn lasted only five more minutes before Rachel stopped kneading her shoulder. “Give it a bit,” she said, moving back to her desk. Quinn collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily.

By the time Quinn left that night, she was feeling much better.

\o/

That weekend, Rachel walked up her driveway after dance class, smirking at the familiar car parked in front of her house. She opened the door, singing out a greeting, to be greeted with the slightly awkward scene of Quinn, dressed casually, sitting rigidly on her couch, a cup of mango nectar sitting in front of her, making awkward small talk with her fathers. An exaggerated, “Oh! Quinn! I didn’t realize you were here!” earned her a glare from the blonde.

Her father, Abraham, bolted up, sweeping her into a tight hug. “Sweetie! How was dance practice?” She laughed as he spun her around; God, she loved her dads. “I’m sure it was wonderful!!” He stopped her, and flourished his hand towards the blonde on the couch. “This fine young lady has come to ask your hand in marriage!”

Quinn was struck dumb, eyes wide and bewildered, and Rachel couldn’t help but laugh internally, thanking her father for his obviously over-dramatic tendencies. “Oh, daddy, do tell me you said yes! Daddy!” Her bags came crashing down as she grasped enthusiastically at his clothing. “I’ll do anything for you to say yes, father!” She snuck a glance over to Peter, her other father, as he worked incredibly hard to disguise his amusement behind a stern expression. She rushed over, kneeling in front of him, grasping his knees. “Papa! Wouldn’t it just be wonderful! Can you imagine?” He burst out laughing, and with that, all three Berrys collapsed in a fit of giggles, Quinn letting out a confused whimper as her eyes flicked between the three.

“Uh... what?”

Peter, still chortling, told Rachel that Quinn had come over to work on their lab report. ‘Amongst other things,’ she thought to herself, but she dragged Quinn up, and dragged the blonde up to her room, Quinn barely having time to grab her bag.

“All three of you were...” Quinn shook her head. “I’m so confused.”

“Sorry, Daddy gets excited about guests... since we don’t get many, being gay and unpopular and all.” She plopped her bag down by the closet.

“I see where you get your dramatic side from...”

Rachel grabbed some casual clothing from her closet, and shrugged. “That’s true, yes. Anyway, I need to shower, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Feel free to start on the lab report, or look around the room. Actually, no. But, if you’re really bored, you can read something from my bookshelf, if you’d like. Just not my playbills, which are on the bottom shelf, or the music score, which is the shelf above that one.” She turned gracefully, and walked off, leaving Quinn to her own devices.

\o/

Twenty minutes saw Rachel coming back in, a towel wrapped around her head and a hair dryer in her hands. She plugged it in near the door, dropped the towel, and started blow drying her hair right there in the entrance. Quinn, propping herself up on her elbows, looked at her like she was insane from her spot on the bed. “This is what you’re supposed to do with this electrical device, Quinn! It’s called a hair dryer!” Rachel almost had to yell to be heard over the hair dryer. Quinn made a show of rolling her eyes, then flopping back down onto her stomach to read.

After ensuring that her hair was more than sufficiently dry, she left the rest to dry naturally. “What’re you reading?” Quinn held up the lab outline, smirking. “Well, aren’t you Miss Studious today! It’s not due til next Wednesday!”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “I’m obviously not just here for the report... but I figured, since you were going to be showering, and I had to pretend to do work, I might as well actually do work.” She turned, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and sitting up stiffly. “I woke up with a horrid crick in my back today... I was hoping you could help me out.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Quinn rubbed her arms, slightly embarrassed. “I don’t have your number...”

Rachel shook her head and rolled her eyes, huffing a sigh. “You only want me for my body, anyway.” Quinn barked out a laugh, and Rachel pushed her lightly to lie back on her bed. “On your stomach, Quinn.” Quinn got back into her original position, and Rachel pulled one of her pillows over, propping it under Quinn’s forehead so that Quinn had room to breathe while lying face-down on her comforter.

Rachel moved to straddle Quinn’s back, but when Quinn felt her perched on her back, she pushed herself abruptly. “No, no way, Manhands. You’re not straddling my back, no way, no how.” Rachel quickly clambered off the bed and knelt directly beside the cheerleader.

“Where did it hurt?” Quinn weakly reached over to somewhere mid-back, poking at her right side. “Ah, well then. Shift over a little, to the edge of the bed.” Quinn complied, and when Rachel gently started rubbing around the bothered area, Quinn sighed, relaxing. “Since it actually hurt beforehand, I need you to be as vocal as possible. I need to know if I’m hurting you or if it’s helping.” Rachel pushed a little harder, and Quinn simply moaned, her voice muffled by the bed.

“I must’ve slept funny on it,” she said, exhaling loudly as Rachel’s hands massaged her stiff back.

“That happens...” Rachel commiserated, using the heels of her hand to push up Quinn’s back.

“Oh, God,” Quinn gasped, feeling a beautiful jolt of pain burn in her back. “Right there.” Rachel continued where she was, using her whole arm to knead the sore muscles. The weird pleasurable pain that Quinn was feeling grew, continuing and becoming constant. Her eyes drooped shut as she let out the occasional whimper or moan, encouraging Rachel to continue. A couple minutes later, Rachel sat back on her heels, picking up the assignment sheet that had dropped from Quinn’s limp hands at some point, reading it over. She walked over to her desk and sat down, writing down on a single piece of loose leaf some general ideas on how to answer the questions. She’d run them by Quinn when she woke up from her massage-induced nap.

\o/

A knock on the door shook Quinn from her nap, and she looked over at the offending sound to see Rachel open her door to speak softly with her dad (which one, Quinn wasn’t sure). Rachel glanced over at Quinn, and smiled. “Are you staying for supper? We’re getting Chinese.”

Quinn blinked lethargically, and simply nodded, before flopping over onto her back. It was completely better now, and it was still buzzing pleasurably where Rachel had been working earlier. She found it kind of odd that Rachel was capable of touching her at all, since she wasn’t usually very good with people touching her in the slightest. Whatever. She shook it off, refusing to think about it.

“Do you have to tell your mother where you are?”

Quinn let out a slight laugh. “No, but can you pass me my phone, anyway? It’s, uh, in the front pocket of my purse.” When Rachel passed it to her, she grabbed Rachel’s wrist, and pulled her to sit on the bed. She looked into Rachel’s eyes, completely sincere. “Thank you. Really.”

Rachel didn’t dare blink; she could barely breathe. “It’s... really no problem, Quinn.” Quinn let go, then flipped open her phone.

“Now, so that I don’t have to surprise your family with random visits, what’s your number?” After putting Rachel into her phone, she texted the girl. “There, now we both have each others’ numbers.”

Rachel chuckled. “What do you have me saved as?” She reached for Quinn’s phone. “Is it Manhands? Treasure Trail? RuPaul? Tranny? Your nicknames have always been amusing to me, because I really don’t know where they come from...”

Quinn flushed slightly in shame. “No... you’re Rachel. Rachel Berry.” She turned the phone so that Rachel could see. Rachel let out a little gasp; Quinn wasn’t lying. “I... I’m sorry.” She had no idea where this feeling of regret was coming from, and she just felt like she had to apologize. Rachel whipped her head over from staring at the screen to stare at Quinn, astounded. The diva’s brown eyes bore into Quinn’s, searching for any insincerity. Like before, when Quinn had thanked her, she could see none.

“But... you hate me.” Rachel’s voice came out slightly strangled, as if she was in awe.

Quinn shook her head slowly. “I... I don’t hate you, Rachel. Not anymore.”

TBC

A/N: So sorry for the extremely long update wait. Being in three studio courses means you are scrambling to finish assignments creatively, so I apparently killed off my muse for, like, 3 weeks after finals. Gah. Thanks to the anons and non-anons on tumblr and AIM for pushing me to finish this chapter!! I'm hoping it's still... what you're looking for.

Also, just in case you have never gotten knots worked on, it HURTS like a bitch. I've, like, been known to stop big hulking footbally guys by poking at spots that are known to have knots. Not that I ever actually had to fight or whatever, but they were being disagreeable, and I poked them... So getting them OUT requires excess massaging, and actually pushing hard on this overly painful spot. It doesn't even actually have to be hard. And it burns. It definitely feels a bajillion times better afterwards, but you have to get to that point first.
If you have a low pain tolerance, I'd suggest against getting that done. Stick to, like, light massaging.