Fic: The Fast and The Gleeful (5/7)
Title: The Fast and the Gleeful
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: R for language.
Spoilers: Absolutely none.
Summary: An attempt at this prompt
A/N: Another short chapter - sorry about that!
Rachel turned to Quinn, grinning madly - and then the grin disappeared as she heard the sirens. With the bridge up, there was only one escape route, and they were surrounded too quickly to even try - a virtual cavalcade of law enforcement vehicles blocked the road, a combination of marked police cars and black sedans with red bubble lights glowing from their dashboards. The police fairly leapt from the marked cars, guns drawn and levelled at them. The black sedans disgorged their passengers as well, well-dressed federal agents in dark suits. Quinn looked at Rachel, tears in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry. I never should have got you into this. I’ll tell them you didn’t come willingly, and hopefully the judge will go easy on you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rachel murmured. “If you tell them that, I’ll tell them you’re lying. That it was all my idea. Wherever we’re going, Quinn, we’re going together. And my offer to be your bitch still stands. Okay?”
Quinn kissed her, too briefly, and then opened her door with a resigned sigh. Following the shouted instructions of the officers, she stepped away from the car and locked her fingers behind her head before sinking slowly to her knees. Rachel opened her door and stepped out as well, following Quinn’s lead. She was roughly handcuffed and manhandled into the back of a police cruiser, banging her head on the doorframe as the doughy officer pushed her inside.
“Fuck!” she cursed. “Watch it, tubby!”
“Shut up,” was his devastatingly witty reply, and she snorted. The door closed solidly, and she stared forlornly at the cruiser to her right, where Quinn was being none too gently forced inside. Their eyes met, and Quinn gave her a tiny smile before their line of sight was cut off by one of the black sedans. Rachel leaned back in her seat, trying to get comfortable with her hands behind her, and sighed.
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“So, Miss Berry, would you like to explain your involvement with Quinn Fabray’s organisation?”
Rachel looked around the interrogation room - it was almost cliché, really. The fact that they’d let her stew for two days in a holding cell. The huge one-way mirror that she was supposed to pretend wasn’t one, the tiny table, the two cops - one huge and muscled, the other thinner and sporting a faux-friendly grin. She took a drink of water from the glass they’d given her and shrugged. “What organisation? I was taking her out for a hot dog. I know there’s a lot of homophobia out there, but taking a girl on a date - that’s still allowed, isn’t it?”
The muscled one - bad cop, she guessed - took the next turn. “I don’t think you have any idea the kind of trouble you’re in,” he growled. “Leaving the scene of an accident, dangerous driving, stunting, speeding - and those are the minor charges. You’re also implicated right alongside Fabray, which means you’re looking at RICO charges. Let me explain what that means-”
“No, I’m not,” Rachel interrupted, giving him a pitying look. “My father’s an FBI agent, you moron. Try cracking a book occasionally - RICO wouldn’t apply in this case. Want to give it another shot?”
Thrown for a loop, he let the good cop try. “You’re a nice young woman, Rachel. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you - full ride to Julliard, you’ll have directors breaking down your door to beg you to act in their plays, or their movies. Why throw all that away for a criminal like Quinn Fabray? Just tell us what you know, and I’m sure that the judge will be lenient. You may even get probation. Besides, you know that she’s down the hall ratting you out right now.”
Rachel gave him her best doe-eyed innocent look. “Gee - do you really think so, mister? Maybe I’d better tell you everything I know, then, just in case!” She smirked as he dug in his pocket for a pen. “Grow up,” she laughed. “Did they teach you all this at the academy, or have you both watched too many movies? You know the prisoner’s dilemma doesn’t work when neither person is going to give evidence against the other, right?” They looked blankly at her. “Prisoners dilemma? Basic psychology? Good heavens. I’ll tell you what - you two clowns go get me someone with half a brain to talk to, okay?”
The bad cop lashed out, hitting her hard in the face. She felt her lip split under his hand and her eyes filled with tears from the pain, but she wiped the blood away with a smirk. “Police brutality, now? My lawyer’s going to love you. You just got this whole case wiped out - well done.”
“Come on,” good cop said, pulling bad cop toward the door. “You need a break.” They left the room, locking the door firmly behind them. Rachel got up and paced, walking over to the one-way mirror and knocking on it with her cuffed hands.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Did you see that? I want that recording given to my lawyer when I bother asking for one. Okay?” There was no answer, of course, but she nodded like someone had agreed. “Exactly.”
To her right, the door opened - and her jaw dropped as her father walked in. “Sit down,” he pointed at her chair. “Now.”
She complied, more out of surprise than anything else. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
He sat down across from her. “You must really think I’m stupid, Rachel. Did you really think you could make up some story about a Julliard prep camp and I wouldn’t check into it? I had a trace on your phone from about five minutes after you left the house. I knew there was only one reason you’d lie to me - to go to her.”
“It was you?” Rachel cried, leaping to her feet. “You called in the police and the FBI?”
“She’s a criminal, Rach. I was only doing my job.”
“I don’t care!” she shouted, kicking her chair aside. “I love her!”
“So much that you’re willing to go to prison for her?”
“Yes! I’m going where she’s going.”
Leroy sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” He ran a hand through his short hair and stood up, crossing the room. He reached up and pulled a wire out of the room’s video camera, and the red light on its face went dark. “I guess there’s only one option, then.”
“And what’s that?” Rachel asked defiantly. She would have crossed her arms if the cuffs hadn’t made that impossible.
“Give me your hands.” She held them out, and he undid her cuffs before pulling her close. “Is she really worth it? Is she worth giving it all up?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes,” she insisted.
“Then go get her,” he shoved something in the pocket of her jeans. “Go out the door and turn left. Third door on the right.”
“What about the others?”
“We haven’t caught the others - they scattered. Now, listen. We found her car - the St. James family must have figured they shouldn’t get caught with it. It’s in the underground garage - level P2. Keys are in your pocket, and there’s a key for her handcuffs as well.”
She pulled away, the enormity of what was occurring finally hitting her. “Dad, I - I love you.”
“I love you too, Rachel - we both do. Get in touch when you can - letters, whatever. Be safe, and don’t get caught - I won’t be able to help you again.” He hugged her, and kissed her on the cheek, and then stepped back. Now - here’s what you need to do. Give me that water glass.” She did, and he gave her a weak smile before breaking it over his own head. He staggered, bleeding. “Put the cuffs on me, Rachel.” She did, cuffing his hands behind him. “You have three minutes,” he advised her. “Be quick.”
She swallowed hard, struggling with the sudden realisation that she’d likely never see her fathers again. “I love you - thank you,” she kissed his cheek.
“Go,” he insisted. “Now.”
She did, closing the door of the interrogation room behind her. Checking the hallway, only to find it empty, she crept to the third door and turned the handle. It turned, and the frosted glass door swung open to reveal Quinn seated at an identical table to the one she’d just left, her hands cuffed behind her and a bored expression on her face. She looked up and saw Rachel, and her jaw dropped comically like a cartoon characters’. “What in the f-“ she began, but Rachel put a finger to her lips. She motioned for Quinn to stand up and unlocked her cuffs.
“Beth is in the parking garage,” Rachel whispered. “I’ve got her keys. We need to go.”
“What about Santana? I can’t just leave everyone-“
“There’s no one else! The others got away. We need to go now.” Rachel gave her a push, and Quinn took the hint. They ran down the hall to the elevator and punched the down button quickly. The elevator wasn’t fast enough, though, so Rachel pushed the stairwell door open and they ran down six flights to the parking garage, which was miraculously empty of people. “Keys!” Quinn hissed, and Rachel threw them over. They climbed into opposite sides of Beth and Quinn started the engine. The roar as it came to life was enough to attract the attention of an officer who was just pulling in. He stared blankly at them for a moment, and then the speaker on the top of his car crackled to life.
“You there! Stop immediately! Shut down the vehicle and step out slowly!”
“Not a chance,” Quinn grinned, throwing the car into gear. She drove right past the stunned officer, up two levels of the parking garage and emerging onto the street into busy afternoon traffic, horns blasting as she bobbed and weaved through the lanes. It was only moments later when they heard the first siren behind them. “Well, that was quick.” To Rachel’s astonishment, Quinn was giggling.
“What’s so funny?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing - I’m just laughing because this time we’re going to win. Those cops have no hope of catching us.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because this is Beth,” Quinn patted the dashboard. “And there’s nothing she can’t do. Now, since I don’t have any music in here, I’m going to need a favour from you.”
“What’s that?” Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“I need you to sing.”
Rachel stared at her. “You - I - what?”
“Sing, Rachel. Something upbeat, preferably.”
“I have no music!”
“Are you saying your vocals aren’t strong enough for you to sing a capella?” Quinn asked, driving over the sidewalk to avoid a clogged intersection. Pedestrians were diving out of the way in all directions.
Rachel couldn’t help but rise to the bait, and broke out in a rendition of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” that she’d been practicing since she was four. She was gratified to see Quinn tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, and when she’d belted out the last note Quinn took her hands from the wheel long enough to applaud. Rachel winced, expecting an accident, but Quinn nudged the wheel with her knee to keep them from careening into traffic. The sound of sirens behind them was growing louder, however, and Rachel was sure she could hear the distinctive whup-whup-whup of helicopter blades overhead.
“Quinn, what are we going to do? There’s no way we can outrun all of them in addition to evading a helicopter pursuit!”
“Yeah, I guess it’s time we put an end to this stupidity, isn’t it? Reach under your seat, Rach, and see if there’s a cell taped to the bottom of it.” Rachel did, and found the phone in question. “Does it still have a charge?”
“It looks like about half.”
“Good. Look in the contacts and find Santana. If she answers, dial nine one one and wait for her to say something. Once you’ve got her, tell her I’m with you and that we need to play Copperfield.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I’ll explain, I promise - call her first, though.”
She dialled, and there was a click as the call was answered, but no one said anything. Rachel dialled as instructed, and a sigh of relief was audible from the other end.
“Q?”
“Rachel, actually - Quinn’s driving.”
“How the hell did you two pull this off? We heard the feds had you cold.”
“I’d love to engage in idle chatter, Santana, but I have a message. Quinn says we need to play Copperfield.”
“Yes!” Santana cheered. “Dios mio, I was hoping we’d get to pull this one day. Tell her the Statue of Liberty’s at the beachfront place. And Rachel - I’m sorry for being a bitch to you. You’ve been pretty awesome. You and Q just pull this off, and we’ll be sipping drinks on the beach together before the end of the week. Talk to you soon!” the call disconnected, and Rachel relayed the message with a confused look.
“Fantastic,” Quinn grinned. “Okay, I promised I’d explain. We’ve always had a backup plan to disappear off the face of the earth if we needed to.”
“Copperfield - like the magician?”
“Exactly,” Quinn confirmed. “We’re going to the beachfront place, and then I’m going to make us disappear. No more Rachel Berry, no more Quinn Fabray. Start thinking what you want your new name to be, okay?”
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: R for language.
Spoilers: Absolutely none.
Summary: An attempt at this prompt
A/N: Another short chapter - sorry about that!
Rachel turned to Quinn, grinning madly - and then the grin disappeared as she heard the sirens. With the bridge up, there was only one escape route, and they were surrounded too quickly to even try - a virtual cavalcade of law enforcement vehicles blocked the road, a combination of marked police cars and black sedans with red bubble lights glowing from their dashboards. The police fairly leapt from the marked cars, guns drawn and levelled at them. The black sedans disgorged their passengers as well, well-dressed federal agents in dark suits. Quinn looked at Rachel, tears in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry. I never should have got you into this. I’ll tell them you didn’t come willingly, and hopefully the judge will go easy on you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rachel murmured. “If you tell them that, I’ll tell them you’re lying. That it was all my idea. Wherever we’re going, Quinn, we’re going together. And my offer to be your bitch still stands. Okay?”
Quinn kissed her, too briefly, and then opened her door with a resigned sigh. Following the shouted instructions of the officers, she stepped away from the car and locked her fingers behind her head before sinking slowly to her knees. Rachel opened her door and stepped out as well, following Quinn’s lead. She was roughly handcuffed and manhandled into the back of a police cruiser, banging her head on the doorframe as the doughy officer pushed her inside.
“Fuck!” she cursed. “Watch it, tubby!”
“Shut up,” was his devastatingly witty reply, and she snorted. The door closed solidly, and she stared forlornly at the cruiser to her right, where Quinn was being none too gently forced inside. Their eyes met, and Quinn gave her a tiny smile before their line of sight was cut off by one of the black sedans. Rachel leaned back in her seat, trying to get comfortable with her hands behind her, and sighed.
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“So, Miss Berry, would you like to explain your involvement with Quinn Fabray’s organisation?”
Rachel looked around the interrogation room - it was almost cliché, really. The fact that they’d let her stew for two days in a holding cell. The huge one-way mirror that she was supposed to pretend wasn’t one, the tiny table, the two cops - one huge and muscled, the other thinner and sporting a faux-friendly grin. She took a drink of water from the glass they’d given her and shrugged. “What organisation? I was taking her out for a hot dog. I know there’s a lot of homophobia out there, but taking a girl on a date - that’s still allowed, isn’t it?”
The muscled one - bad cop, she guessed - took the next turn. “I don’t think you have any idea the kind of trouble you’re in,” he growled. “Leaving the scene of an accident, dangerous driving, stunting, speeding - and those are the minor charges. You’re also implicated right alongside Fabray, which means you’re looking at RICO charges. Let me explain what that means-”
“No, I’m not,” Rachel interrupted, giving him a pitying look. “My father’s an FBI agent, you moron. Try cracking a book occasionally - RICO wouldn’t apply in this case. Want to give it another shot?”
Thrown for a loop, he let the good cop try. “You’re a nice young woman, Rachel. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you - full ride to Julliard, you’ll have directors breaking down your door to beg you to act in their plays, or their movies. Why throw all that away for a criminal like Quinn Fabray? Just tell us what you know, and I’m sure that the judge will be lenient. You may even get probation. Besides, you know that she’s down the hall ratting you out right now.”
Rachel gave him her best doe-eyed innocent look. “Gee - do you really think so, mister? Maybe I’d better tell you everything I know, then, just in case!” She smirked as he dug in his pocket for a pen. “Grow up,” she laughed. “Did they teach you all this at the academy, or have you both watched too many movies? You know the prisoner’s dilemma doesn’t work when neither person is going to give evidence against the other, right?” They looked blankly at her. “Prisoners dilemma? Basic psychology? Good heavens. I’ll tell you what - you two clowns go get me someone with half a brain to talk to, okay?”
The bad cop lashed out, hitting her hard in the face. She felt her lip split under his hand and her eyes filled with tears from the pain, but she wiped the blood away with a smirk. “Police brutality, now? My lawyer’s going to love you. You just got this whole case wiped out - well done.”
“Come on,” good cop said, pulling bad cop toward the door. “You need a break.” They left the room, locking the door firmly behind them. Rachel got up and paced, walking over to the one-way mirror and knocking on it with her cuffed hands.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Did you see that? I want that recording given to my lawyer when I bother asking for one. Okay?” There was no answer, of course, but she nodded like someone had agreed. “Exactly.”
To her right, the door opened - and her jaw dropped as her father walked in. “Sit down,” he pointed at her chair. “Now.”
She complied, more out of surprise than anything else. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
He sat down across from her. “You must really think I’m stupid, Rachel. Did you really think you could make up some story about a Julliard prep camp and I wouldn’t check into it? I had a trace on your phone from about five minutes after you left the house. I knew there was only one reason you’d lie to me - to go to her.”
“It was you?” Rachel cried, leaping to her feet. “You called in the police and the FBI?”
“She’s a criminal, Rach. I was only doing my job.”
“I don’t care!” she shouted, kicking her chair aside. “I love her!”
“So much that you’re willing to go to prison for her?”
“Yes! I’m going where she’s going.”
Leroy sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” He ran a hand through his short hair and stood up, crossing the room. He reached up and pulled a wire out of the room’s video camera, and the red light on its face went dark. “I guess there’s only one option, then.”
“And what’s that?” Rachel asked defiantly. She would have crossed her arms if the cuffs hadn’t made that impossible.
“Give me your hands.” She held them out, and he undid her cuffs before pulling her close. “Is she really worth it? Is she worth giving it all up?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes,” she insisted.
“Then go get her,” he shoved something in the pocket of her jeans. “Go out the door and turn left. Third door on the right.”
“What about the others?”
“We haven’t caught the others - they scattered. Now, listen. We found her car - the St. James family must have figured they shouldn’t get caught with it. It’s in the underground garage - level P2. Keys are in your pocket, and there’s a key for her handcuffs as well.”
She pulled away, the enormity of what was occurring finally hitting her. “Dad, I - I love you.”
“I love you too, Rachel - we both do. Get in touch when you can - letters, whatever. Be safe, and don’t get caught - I won’t be able to help you again.” He hugged her, and kissed her on the cheek, and then stepped back. Now - here’s what you need to do. Give me that water glass.” She did, and he gave her a weak smile before breaking it over his own head. He staggered, bleeding. “Put the cuffs on me, Rachel.” She did, cuffing his hands behind him. “You have three minutes,” he advised her. “Be quick.”
She swallowed hard, struggling with the sudden realisation that she’d likely never see her fathers again. “I love you - thank you,” she kissed his cheek.
“Go,” he insisted. “Now.”
She did, closing the door of the interrogation room behind her. Checking the hallway, only to find it empty, she crept to the third door and turned the handle. It turned, and the frosted glass door swung open to reveal Quinn seated at an identical table to the one she’d just left, her hands cuffed behind her and a bored expression on her face. She looked up and saw Rachel, and her jaw dropped comically like a cartoon characters’. “What in the f-“ she began, but Rachel put a finger to her lips. She motioned for Quinn to stand up and unlocked her cuffs.
“Beth is in the parking garage,” Rachel whispered. “I’ve got her keys. We need to go.”
“What about Santana? I can’t just leave everyone-“
“There’s no one else! The others got away. We need to go now.” Rachel gave her a push, and Quinn took the hint. They ran down the hall to the elevator and punched the down button quickly. The elevator wasn’t fast enough, though, so Rachel pushed the stairwell door open and they ran down six flights to the parking garage, which was miraculously empty of people. “Keys!” Quinn hissed, and Rachel threw them over. They climbed into opposite sides of Beth and Quinn started the engine. The roar as it came to life was enough to attract the attention of an officer who was just pulling in. He stared blankly at them for a moment, and then the speaker on the top of his car crackled to life.
“You there! Stop immediately! Shut down the vehicle and step out slowly!”
“Not a chance,” Quinn grinned, throwing the car into gear. She drove right past the stunned officer, up two levels of the parking garage and emerging onto the street into busy afternoon traffic, horns blasting as she bobbed and weaved through the lanes. It was only moments later when they heard the first siren behind them. “Well, that was quick.” To Rachel’s astonishment, Quinn was giggling.
“What’s so funny?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing - I’m just laughing because this time we’re going to win. Those cops have no hope of catching us.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because this is Beth,” Quinn patted the dashboard. “And there’s nothing she can’t do. Now, since I don’t have any music in here, I’m going to need a favour from you.”
“What’s that?” Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“I need you to sing.”
Rachel stared at her. “You - I - what?”
“Sing, Rachel. Something upbeat, preferably.”
“I have no music!”
“Are you saying your vocals aren’t strong enough for you to sing a capella?” Quinn asked, driving over the sidewalk to avoid a clogged intersection. Pedestrians were diving out of the way in all directions.
Rachel couldn’t help but rise to the bait, and broke out in a rendition of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” that she’d been practicing since she was four. She was gratified to see Quinn tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, and when she’d belted out the last note Quinn took her hands from the wheel long enough to applaud. Rachel winced, expecting an accident, but Quinn nudged the wheel with her knee to keep them from careening into traffic. The sound of sirens behind them was growing louder, however, and Rachel was sure she could hear the distinctive whup-whup-whup of helicopter blades overhead.
“Quinn, what are we going to do? There’s no way we can outrun all of them in addition to evading a helicopter pursuit!”
“Yeah, I guess it’s time we put an end to this stupidity, isn’t it? Reach under your seat, Rach, and see if there’s a cell taped to the bottom of it.” Rachel did, and found the phone in question. “Does it still have a charge?”
“It looks like about half.”
“Good. Look in the contacts and find Santana. If she answers, dial nine one one and wait for her to say something. Once you’ve got her, tell her I’m with you and that we need to play Copperfield.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I’ll explain, I promise - call her first, though.”
She dialled, and there was a click as the call was answered, but no one said anything. Rachel dialled as instructed, and a sigh of relief was audible from the other end.
“Q?”
“Rachel, actually - Quinn’s driving.”
“How the hell did you two pull this off? We heard the feds had you cold.”
“I’d love to engage in idle chatter, Santana, but I have a message. Quinn says we need to play Copperfield.”
“Yes!” Santana cheered. “Dios mio, I was hoping we’d get to pull this one day. Tell her the Statue of Liberty’s at the beachfront place. And Rachel - I’m sorry for being a bitch to you. You’ve been pretty awesome. You and Q just pull this off, and we’ll be sipping drinks on the beach together before the end of the week. Talk to you soon!” the call disconnected, and Rachel relayed the message with a confused look.
“Fantastic,” Quinn grinned. “Okay, I promised I’d explain. We’ve always had a backup plan to disappear off the face of the earth if we needed to.”
“Copperfield - like the magician?”
“Exactly,” Quinn confirmed. “We’re going to the beachfront place, and then I’m going to make us disappear. No more Rachel Berry, no more Quinn Fabray. Start thinking what you want your new name to be, okay?”