fic: silently falling apart (2/8)
Title: Silently Falling Apart (2/8)
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairing: Quinn/Santana
Prompts: Historical Time Period for Quinntana Week 2013
Summary: Quinn's life is forever changed when she enters Oberlin in the late 60's.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, they'd probably go at it like bunnies.
A/N: Thanks for all of the wonderful feedback. I'm still working on all of the fics. It's insane. I'm back home now. So that means I can get back to writing. Thanks again for the support. :)
March 1967
Rachel spoke animatedly about the upcoming spring musical as they walked across the campus. Her spring semester of classes weren’t nearly as hard or perhaps she’d just adjusted to the amount of work. Quinn wasn’t certain, but it felt like she had more time to just enjoy taking walks. Rachel sometimes joined her, like today, but usually it was done alone and she used it as a time to reflect. She felt like she had a new level of consciousness and found herself a lot more pensive than before, which was saying something for her.
“Hey, Quinn,” Sam greeted, cutting through the tale Rachel had been sharing. There was another guy with him, one Quinn had never seen before. He was older than them all by at least a year or two. He had stubble along his angular jaw and he was looking directly at her with these intense hazel eyes. “-and this is my friend Noah, but everyone just calls him-”
“Puck,” the other boy said, answering before Sam could and smirking at the blonde in a way that made her cheeks warm. His hair was a brown mess of shaggy waves that curled into a sort of afro that Quinn found utterly ridiculous, but somehow suited him.
“Puck?” Quinn repeated and looked away from him. She blinked a few times and glared at the knowing smile on Rachel’s face.
The brunette held her hand out to him. “It’s nice to meet you, Noah.” She smiled even brighter and stood a little straighter next to her roommate.
“Hey, cool it with the Noah stuff. It’s Puck...short for Puckerman, got it?” Puck corrected, looking around as if someone was trying to snake him.
“Puckerman? Are you Jewish?” Rachel asked, her excitement barely contained.
“Yeah, what’s it to you?” He asked defensively and crossed his arms over his chest.
Rachel looked taken aback. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just...so am I and I haven’t met very many on campus.”
Puck let his hands drop and smiled. “Gee, I shoulda known. You’ve definitely got the looks.” He offered his arm to her in an exaggerated fashion. “Allow me to escort my fellow Jew to the cafeteria?”
With wide brown eyes, Rachel looked back at Quinn and then Sam, stammering. “Um...sure?” She took his arm and they began walking in the other direction. “I’ll see you later, Quinn.” Rachel gave her one last look and then turned away.
The blonde had a moment of panic as she watched her roommate walking away. “Be careful, Rachel!” She called back, glancing at Sam. “Is she going to be safe?”
“Yeah, Puck’s totally safe. I mean mostly safe. I mean well girls like him a whole lot, if you know what I mean.” Sam’s face flushed and he scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m sure Rachel will be fine.”
“Sam! Go with them and keep her from...being one of those girls that likes him a whole lot.” Quinn frowned at those words. It wasn’t the job of males to keep women safe. Hadn’t she just been reading about that? Women were capable of taking care of themselves. They were as strong and competent as men. She glanced in the direction Rachel and Puck had just taken and sighed. “Or just...go with them and keep an eye on her.”
Nodding, Sam waved and gave chase after them. He was a really good guy and Quinn was happy they were friends.
---
Later that evening when Rachel returned from her rehearsal, she was all smiles and talking about how amazing Noah was. Quinn worried the other girl was definitely going to become one of those girls. She tried not to cringe, tried to remind herself that it was Rachel’s life. It just made her a little uneasy.
“Noah invited me to a St. Patrick’s Day party. Well, he told me to bring you as well.” Rachel smirked over at her and readied for bed. “I think he likes you.”
Quinn ignored the feeling in her stomach at those words. She made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement but didn’t look up from her textbook.
---
The party was already in full swing by the time she and Rachel arrived. Puck had given them the address to an apartment that was about a fifteen minute walk from campus. It was just as well since she and Rachel didn’t have access to a car and the buses into town stopped running after seven.
The apartment was larger than any Quinn had seen, which admittedly weren’t many. There weren’t any near where she lived in Findlay proper. But even with all of the people milling about she could tell it was a massive space. There was also a pungent odor wafting through the entire place and she coughed a little at the cloud of smoke that gave the entire place a kind of haze.
She looked to her right and Rachel was already shedding her coat, revealing a lime green dress with white flowers and fell, what Quinn thought was a dangerously short length, mid-thigh and wasn’t at all like anything Rachel usually wore.
Sam came over and greeted them, shouting over the loud music. He leaned in and whispered something to Rachel and she handed him her coat. He looked over at Quinn expectantly and she quickly unbuttoned her own, handing it to him. Her green dress was pressed and the appropriate length, but she felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb among the others in their modern fare. Even Rachel, with her thick eye makeup, was blending in. She followed behind Sam and Quinn behind her until a train of people broke between them and she lost sight.
Quinn moved to what she guessed was the living room given the two couches and the people dancing in the middle of the floor. Though, it was more like bodies writhing together than actual moving. The odor was stronger in here and she watched people passing around what looked like a homemade cigarette, but it definitely didn’t smell like that. Frannie used to sneak cigarettes in their room when she’d been in high school. Quinn knew the difference.
She found a spot on the couch and sat down, smoothing her dress. She watched the crowd moving, body upon body. Guys next to girls next to other girls and guys kissing in the middle of the floor. Despite living with Rachel and being friends with Kurt, she’d yet to see anything like that. How could they just do this in the open without a care? What if someone they knew saw?
“Peace offering, sister,” a tall man with dark brown skin and a big afro said, holding out a “cigarette” to Quinn.
The blonde shook her head. “I don’t smoke. No thank you.”
The man looked surprised. “This right here is the finest sweet lucy around. It’ll open up your mind.” His tone was mellow and he kind of swayed as he spoke.
Quinn wondered if it was how he naturally was or if it was whatever he was smoking. She shook her head again and gave him a nice smile for good measure. With a shrug he wandered away and Quinn let out a sigh of relief. Her head was starting to feel a little cloudy as she continued to sit there and when someone handed her a brownie, she happily took it. She finished it quickly, ignoring the somewhat odd taste.
“I was five and he was six. We rode on the horses made of sticks. He wore black and I wore white. He would always win the fight. Bang, bang...he shot me down. Bang, bang I hit the ground...bang, bang that awful sound. Bang, bang...my baby shot me down.”
The music slowed and someone brought out a guitar. The bodies in front of her sat down and she realized it was Puck strumming along, but the voice was what caught her attention. It was unlike any she’d ever heard. So different, smokey and silky at the same time. It was a stark contrast to spending months listening to Rachel’s voice. A girl with long blonde hair sat in a guys lap and Quinn could see who was singing. She was unlike any girl Quinn had ever seen.
Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in thick waves was held back by a thick white headband. Her skin was a warm, caramel color and her thin body was barely covered by a shirt that revealed a bit of her midriff and a skirt that was shorter than Rachel’s dress. It was both appalling and intriguing and Quinn couldn’t look away.
The girl’s eyes opened and found Quinn’s across the room. Her head swam and she felt surrounded by the sound of the girl’s voice. She had a smug look about her that made Quinn bristle even in the sight of her tiny smile. The people around them seemed enraptured, but Quinn barely noticed them. It felt like the girl was singing only to her and the words drifted through her ears and over her body, making her feel calm and dizzy, like she needed to lay down, but she was already sitting.The blonde forced her eyes away and didn’t clap along with the rest of the group when the song ended.
“Hey, why’re you sitting here all alone?” Puck asked as the group moved back to dancing. She hadn’t even noticed his approach. Had he been standing there long? It was as if she no longer had a concept of time. She felt so odd. She looked up at him, relieved to see a familiar face even if it was Puck’s.
“I don’t know where Rachel’s gone,” she admitted but her voice sounded foreign to her own ears and she frowned. “Who was that girl?”
Puck looked around then back at her. “What? You mean the girl that was singing?” Quinn nodded and tilted her head to the side to see if she could catch sight of the girl. “That’s Santana,” he answered as if Quinn should know who that was. But before she could ask him anything further he held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
Quinn shook her head. “I don’t dance like that.”
“That’s okay. I’ll show you.” Puck reached down and tugged her hand until she was standing. He led her to the middle and gripped her hips.
Leaning in, Quinn spoke into his ear. “I can’t dance with you like this. I have a boyfriend.”
She could feel Puck’s laughter as he pulled her body even closer. “They always do. And where is this boyfriend?” He questioned, his hips sort of rocking against her in a hypnotic fashion.
“He’s fighting in the war.” Quinn couldn’t find whatever rhythm he was dancing, but she found comfort in the pattern.
“Of course he is,” Puck mumbled against the skin of her neck. She wanted to pull away, but her body felt heavy with movement. She managed to spot Rachel and Sam and frowned at the sight of them kissing like she’d seen the boys on the floor doing earlier. She didn’t know Rachel and Sam kissed like that and why didn’t Rachel tell her?
She didn’t have time to dwell because Puck spun her around and she caught sight of the girl, Santana, standing there. She looked mad, glaring directly at Quinn and Puck as they moved along the floor.
---
Quinn woke with a start, shooting straight up from where she’d fallen asleep. Had she fallen asleep on a couch? Why was she on a couch?
“Oh good, you’re not actually dead,” a voice to her right deadpanned. She looked over and saw the singer from last night.
Had that been a dream? What she still dreaming? “Where am I? Where’s Puck?”
The girl, Quinn tried to remember her name, rolled her eyes and set her bowl of cereal down on the end table. She stood up from the arm of the couch she’d been occupying and stretched. Her legs seemed long in the shorts she was wearing and her top was one of those flowy ones Quinn had seen some of the girls on campus wearing. “Right. Well, you’re in my apartment and the lady killer is passed out in my bed. Sorry,” she said, though the smile on her face was anything but.
“Oh!” Quinn said with frown. She didn’t know what to make of that. She couldn’t remember much the night after dancing with Puck. She looked down at herself and saw she was still fully clothed. That was good. She’d heard the stories of the not so nice things that sometimes happened to girls at parties.
“Yeah, that tends to happen sometimes.” The girl shrugged and reached for her bowl again.
The door to the apartment swung open and Rachel and Sam tumbled in laughing. Rachel’s eyes went wide and she raced over to the couch and sat down. “Oh good you’re up finally.’
“Finally? And why did you leave me alone here?” Quinn hissed her annoyance rising when she saw Sam’s guilty look.
“Well gosh, Quinn, you just looked so peaceful sleeping and Santana told us where to get some breakfast items. So, we just ran down the street to the store. I didn’t think you’d want to be woken up.” Rachel sighed, looking contrite.
Rachel was a good roommate like that, always looking out for her and Quinn felt guilty for snapping at her. “Thanks for not waking me, but next time don’t leave me alone with strangers,” she mumbled and smiled so that the other girl knew she wasn’t actually mad.
“I brought you back a bagel with cream cheese, just the way you like it.” Rachel motioned for Sam to bring her the bag. He walked over with a goofy grin on his face and Quinn remembered seeing them kiss the night before. She cocked an eyebrow at Rachel, who blushed and looked away. She smiled, truly happy for the girl, but she was definitely going to be asking her a lot of questions when they got back to their room.
“Do I smell bagels?” Puck asked, walking into the room in nothing but his jeans which were unbuttoned. He smirked over at Quinn winking and the blonde felt her own cheeks flush.
“No ya pendejo, how can you smell a bagel?” Santana questioned, her hand smacking his arm.
“It’s a heightened sense of smell. That’s why Jews got such big noses,” he called back at her when she headed into what Quinn assumed was the kitchen.
Rachel looked up at Sam and frowned, touching her nose. “Do you think my nose is big?”
---
“No way, man! Ben Cartwright would totally win in a gunfight. He’d have his out of his sling before Matt Dillon could even reach for his.” Sam was lounging across the couch, his head in Rachel’s lap as she played with his hair.
“The show is called Gunsmoke. Lay off the grass, my brother. You have don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Quinn rolled her eyes and went back to reading this book one of the girls at the rally had given her. SCUM Manifesto was underground literature and a lot more radical than anything she’d read prior to it. It was a little extreme for her taste, but it had some interesting points, Quinn thought. And it beat listening to the guys arguing over who would win in a Western brawl.
“Quinn, who do you think would win?”
The question ripped right through her thoughts and she glanced up at them, trying not to be annoyed. “I’m sorry, I don’t watch much television.” It was politer than what she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to start a fight. She just wanted to read her book.
“Boys, remember Quinn doesn’t have time. When else is she going to find the time to learn to bake pies and so on buttons?” Santana chimed in from where she was sitting on the floor. She met Quinn’s eyes with a defiant smirk.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I think you talk a good game and you sit there reading all of the books, but I don’t think you’re actually fighting for the cause.” Santana leaned back on her hands, her unrestrained breasts stretching the material of her shirt.
“I am too,” Quinn said back childishly, averting her gaze. “Just because we fight differently doesn’t mean we’re not on the same team.”
Santana’s smile grew at that and she glanced over at Puck. The two shared some kind of look and Quinn didn’t really understand. “Oh honey, believe me when I say we are definitely not on the same kind of team.”
Puck snickered and, annoyed, Quinn stood from her place on the opposite couch and walked to the door. “I’m going back to campus. Rachel, I’ll see you later.”
She was out of the door before the even had a chance to protest. Santana thought she was so smart. Just because she dressed like that and didn’t wear a bra didn’t mean she was better than Quinn.
Still she had to wonder at what team Santana was even referring to.
---
A week later, Quinn figured it out when she caught Santana in a rather heated embrace with girl she’d seen at a few rallies named Marley Rose, she figured out that was at least half of what she’d meant.
---
May 1966
April passed quickly. She spent most of her time with her new group of friends, well her new group of friends and Santana, and reading and going to rallies with every free moment she had from studying. She was going to finish the year with high honors, much to the delight of her parents, but Quinn consoled herself with the fact that she was becoming a highly educated young woman. She took comfort in the fact that she would be leaving a greater mark for her future children. She was more than her mother’s legacy already.
But as she packed up her belongings, hiding the feminist literature between her freshly laundered shirts, she grew worried. She would have to wait almost four months before returning to school and how would she make it through the summer? Being at home during holidays had almost been unbearable. What would she do for all of that time? Maybe she would squeeze a visit or two in with Rachel, but not too many or her parents would forbid her to go.
It dawned on her that she had spent months pretending to be a grown woman, but in all honesty, she wasn’t her own woman at all. She was still so dependent on her parents and that settled in her stomach like a lump of the stale bread in the cafeteria. She felt distraught and uncertain of what the summer would bring. How was she to go back to serving her father’s every whim? She’d go crazy.
She glanced up at Rachel’s poster of Barbra Streisand and tried to pull strength from it. It didn’t work as well as it did for Rachel, but eventually a plan started to form and she felt something within her ease. She would bide her time this summer and come fall, she’d start working on becoming less dependent.
---
“Promise me you’ll write!” Rachel begged as they took the last few moments to say goodbye. Rachel’s father was downstairs waiting. Quinn’s parents would be there later that evening.
“At least once a week,” Quinn promised yet again. Rachel was prone to dramatics, but the blonde had to admit she didn’t want to leave this place either.
Rachel wrapped her arms around her roommate and squeezed tightly. “Oh I don’t know why I’m so sad. This isn’t goodbye. It’s I’ll see you later. I’m just going to miss you so much.”
Quinn’s eyes fluttered shut. “I’m going to miss you too, Rachel. Now go before you father comes looking for you.”
They shared one last hug and then Rachel was off, her worn saddle shoes a reminder of how far they’d come.
---
June 1966
Being at home was exactly as it had always been. It was just that Quinn felt as if she no longer belonged here.
---
Quinn lay on her back when the knock at the front door came. She frowned because she was the only one home and her mother hadn’t mentioned expecting company. She slid her feminist magazine beneath her mattress again and flipped over to stand up. She needed to straighten her appearance before she actually answered the door. So she hoped whomever it was would just be patient with her.
She tucked her blouse back into her skirt neatly, and slipped her loafers back onto her feet. She combed her fingers through her hair and frowned a little. It was getting long. She should probably cut it, but she’d been thinking about letting it grow out. All of the girls in her new group wore their hair longer than this and it was beautiful.
The knock sounded again and she turned away from the mirror and raced out of the door. She hurried down the stairs and paused right before the knob, taking a moment to calm her breathing. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with still having manners, but her brain reasoned that maybe manners were yet another thing that the patriarchal establishment had put on women to ensure they behaved in a certain way. She’d have to find out.
The door opened and she let out a gasp when she found out who was on the other side of it. Finn smiled down at her, looking a lot older than he had before he left.
“Hi Quinnie, it’s so great to see you.” They were hugging before she managed to get out a single word and she wondered why she suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe.
---
“Yeah, the war is something. You should see it over there, Q. I mean the whole place is green and the people look so different from Americans, but I think we’re making a change. You know, we’re really showing them how great life could be.” Finn sat back on the porch swing. His mother had retired to bed a while ago.
Quinn listened to him speak. It was all so different from what she’d been hearing at the rallies at school. Maybe people were just confused. It was a very scary time in the world and she felt happy that guys like Finn were out there trying to make it safe. He was such a good guy, but there was something niggling at the back of her mind and she couldn’t place it. Something just felt wrong about fighting a war to ensure peace.
“How long will you be home?” She asked instead, leaning her head on his shoulder.
He wrapped her arm around her’s. “I’m only here until July. Then I’m going back. They promised me a great job when I get back and I can get you a nice ring. Then we can be married in another year, two tops.”
The air rushed out of Quinn’s lungs at just the thought.
---
Three weeks passed and everything was back to normal between her and Finn. They spent all of their free time together and she was epitome of the perfect girlfriend. A part of her loathed the role she was playing, but the other part wondered if she wasn’t playing a role at all. Was this really who she was?
---
July 1966
Late one July afternoon, a huge car pulled up in front of Quinn’s house. She and Finn had been out in the yard, joking around and she paused, wondering who was visiting. The passenger door opened first and Rachel popped out, a huge smile on her face.
“Quinn!” Rachel was already running to her before the shock at seeing her roommate wore off. She smiled brightly as Rachel came through the gate and hurled herself into Quinn’s arms.
The two laughed and hugged tightly and Quinn heard the sound of the car doors opening and closing. She was surprised to see Kurt, Puck, and Sam walking towards her. She’d missed them almost as much as she’d missed Rachel. They all hugged her too, Puck spinning her around in the air as if she weighed nothing.
“Quinn, who are all of these people?”
She’d almost forgotten that Finn was standing there. Quinn stepped away from Puck quickly and walked back over to her boyfriend. “Finn, these are my friend from school. That’s Puck, Kurt, and Sam. And Rachel’s my roommate.”
They all extended pleasantries, but she could tell Finn was uncomfortable. All of the guys were dressed in flared denims and flowing shirts. Kurt’s hair had grown out to a semi-shaggy look and Sam’s hair was now past his shoulders. And Rachel was wearing orange and white one-piece that reminded Quinn a little of a bathing suit and showed off almost all of her leg. Something Finn was clearly not used to seeing.
“What are you guys doing here?” She asked when a silence fell between the group awkwardly.
“Oh, we’re taking a car trip to New York City for Independence Day. There’s going to be a rally and fireworks,” Sam answered, slinging his arm over Rachel’s shoulders.
Her roommate nodded and practically bounced at his side. “Yeah, we were hoping you’d come with us. I haven’t seen you in so long. It feels like practically forever.”
Quinn knew how she felt. She’d been going stir-crazy at home before Finn had come back.”I’d love to go! I just...Finn’s not going to be here for much longer and what would I tell my folks?”
“Tell them that you’re finally breaking the chains of oppression.”
Spinning around, Quinn felt her heart trip a beat at seeing Santana. What was she doing there? Quinn looked down at her shirt that stopped just below her breasts and exposed her midriff completely and her shorts that were sinfully short. Why did she always have to dress like that? Quinn thought with a frown.
“Or you could tell them that you’re going on a trip with your real friend.” The girl looked up at Finn and then back at Quinn with that little smirk the blonde had always hated. And since when was Santana her friend?
“It’s not that simple, Santana. I have responsibilities here and my mother would worry. I’ve never been to New York before.”
Santana rolled her eyes and then looked up at Finn. “How do you put up with this, man? You want to come don’t you?”
Finn had been almost oddly quiet during the whole exchange and Quinn couldn’t bring herself to look up at his face. What he must think of her friends and her by extension.
“Sure, it sounds like a lot of fun.”
Quinn’s eyes shot to his face and her brow wrinkled in confusion. “What?”
Smiling down at her, Finn patted her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “Sounds like fun. I don’t have a lot of time left and I think we could have a great time.” He glanced back up at Santana and gave her a little nod. “Count us in.”
---
“How can you defend it? We’re basically over there killing innocent people because they don’t have ‘freedom.’ That doesn’t make any sense!” Puck’s voice raised and he shook his head.
“That isn’t how it is. You don’t know. You’re not there. We are helping South Vietnam because they want their freedom. How can that be bad?” Finn questioned and grimaced, setting down his empty beer bottle.
Sam was huddled next to Rachel, looking up at the stars and didn’t bother joining. Quinn could tell he wanted to, but Rachel was whispering into his ear. Puck and Finn had been arguing since the anti-war rally three hours before. Quinn had known it was a bad idea for him to go, but he’d insisted.
Puck took a drag of his joint and held it in, blowing the smoke out after a few moments. “You’ve been brainwashed by the man. You need to read, study what this war is really about. Showing the world who has the biggest gun.”
Finn laughed humorlessly. “Is that what they’re teaching you at that fancy school of yours? The truth? Why don’t you do what real men do and enlist? Fight for your country.”
“You think signing up to go over there and fight in this war is what it means to be a real man?” Puck sat up and laughed. The group they’d met up with at the rally were sitting next to him, watching it like a ping pong match. Quinn sighed. She didn’t want to be around this fighting. She was starting to wish Finn hadn’t come along.
She stood up, intending to walk away for some fresh air, but Finn’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Can you get me another beer? Thanks, Quinnie.” He barely looked at her when he spoke and she flashed back to Thanksgiving and Christmas. She gritted her teeth and nodded, walking over to the cooler.
“Is there some reason he couldn’t get that himself? Are his hands broken?” Santana was in front of her seemingly out of nowhere. She’s almost forgotten about the other girl. She’d been unusually quiet since they’d gotten to New York, mostly spending her time with Puck or Rachel.
Quinn started, nearly dropping the beer back into the ice cold water. “What?”
“I didn’t think you did that anymore. Served men.”
Hazel eyes glanced back over at Finn and shook her head. She felt guilt settle in her stomach and glared at Santana for making her feel it. “It’s not like that. He’s just in the middle of something and I was getting up. I really don’t mind.”
Santana stared at her for a long time, her expression disbelieving and disappointed. “Whatever you say.”
Quinn stalked away. Who did Santana think she was anyway? Quinn wasn’t serving Finn. She wasn’t. Santana could go take a long walk off of a short pier.
---
The air was sticky humid as the fireworks started going off over the park. Quinn had stepped away from the group again, needing a break from it all. She’d promised to call her parents in the morning and she hoped she’d remember. She was pretty stoned right now and there was be a good chance she wouldn’t.
“You copasetic?”
She didn’t have to look over to see that Puck was standing next to her, but she didn’t mind. “Yep, I’m feeling really good, kind of mellow.”
Puck smiled when she looked over at him. “I told you. I only get the best.”
Another firework went off and Quinn let it distract her. Being near Puck always gave her a funny feeling in her stomach. She did her best to ignore it, but the way he smiled at her just made her feel things she didn’t with Finn. That was so very dangerous.
“So that’s the boyfriend, then.” It wasn’t a question and Quinn didn’t bother to reply. “That guy is a total meathead.”
“Well, he’s a meathead I love. So watch what you say.” She knew what he was trying to do, but she knew Finn was a good man. He’d be a great husband too. Puck would never be someone’s husband. He didn’t even like having girlfriends.
Puck sighed like he was annoyed with her, but she didn’t care. “You’re smarter than that. You’re bigger than him and just being some guy’s wife.”
She knew he was right. She’d been thinking it a lot since Finn came home, but she really did love him and being his wife wouldn’t be that bad. He loved her and he’d take care of her and their family. Didn’t mean she liked the idea that maybe he thought she wasn’t able to take care of herself.
“Looks like your boyfriend is enjoying the show as well.” Quinn looked at him in confusion and then in the direction of his eyes.
Finn was dancing around with Santana kind of draped over him. Quinn wasn’t sure who she was angrier with.
---
“I’m having a good time. I didn’t think I would with all of these peace-loving what do they call them? Hippies? I don’t know. They’re kind of fun.”
Quinn knew Finn wasn’t talking about Puck and Sam and she rolled onto her side, looking over at him. He was so handsome and she loved him so much, no matter what Puck said, she knew it to be true. Watching him with Santana just made her realize she’d give all of this up to be his wife. She didn’t want to lose him.
He didn’t question when she shifted in their joined sleeping bags and pressed her lips to his. No, there wasn’t a single word uttered until he was nestled between her thighs and his light brown eyes bore into her’s, the concern etched into his brow.
“Are you sure?” He whispered, looking around as if to be sure that no one would notice this single act of intimacy. She’d always pictured this would happen on her wedding night, on their marital bed, her last name Hudson instead of Fabray.
But things were different and she was learning the world was different than she’d ever imagined and after this, she knew she would never be the same. She’d be giving him a piece of her to take back to Vietnam. Something to ensure he’d always come back. So, she nodded and bit her lip to keep from crying out at the quick pain she felt when he entered her.
It was only for a moment and then she lost herself.
---
The morning brought fresh dew upon their skin and the harsh realities of what she’d done. There was a small part of her that wanted to take it back immediately, but she knew she couldn’t. Besides she was a woman now. She felt somehow older, more mature and she was owning her own body, deciding not to let society dictate to her when it was “the right time” to grow in her own truth. Rings meant ownership and Quinn wanted her equality.
She sat up, wanting to pull on her shirt again before anyone noticed what had happened. There was a movement out of the corner of her eye and she looked, locking eyes with Santana who just shook her head before turning away.
---
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairing: Quinn/Santana
Prompts: Historical Time Period for Quinntana Week 2013
Summary: Quinn's life is forever changed when she enters Oberlin in the late 60's.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, they'd probably go at it like bunnies.
A/N: Thanks for all of the wonderful feedback. I'm still working on all of the fics. It's insane. I'm back home now. So that means I can get back to writing. Thanks again for the support. :)
March 1967
Rachel spoke animatedly about the upcoming spring musical as they walked across the campus. Her spring semester of classes weren’t nearly as hard or perhaps she’d just adjusted to the amount of work. Quinn wasn’t certain, but it felt like she had more time to just enjoy taking walks. Rachel sometimes joined her, like today, but usually it was done alone and she used it as a time to reflect. She felt like she had a new level of consciousness and found herself a lot more pensive than before, which was saying something for her.
“Hey, Quinn,” Sam greeted, cutting through the tale Rachel had been sharing. There was another guy with him, one Quinn had never seen before. He was older than them all by at least a year or two. He had stubble along his angular jaw and he was looking directly at her with these intense hazel eyes. “-and this is my friend Noah, but everyone just calls him-”
“Puck,” the other boy said, answering before Sam could and smirking at the blonde in a way that made her cheeks warm. His hair was a brown mess of shaggy waves that curled into a sort of afro that Quinn found utterly ridiculous, but somehow suited him.
“Puck?” Quinn repeated and looked away from him. She blinked a few times and glared at the knowing smile on Rachel’s face.
The brunette held her hand out to him. “It’s nice to meet you, Noah.” She smiled even brighter and stood a little straighter next to her roommate.
“Hey, cool it with the Noah stuff. It’s Puck...short for Puckerman, got it?” Puck corrected, looking around as if someone was trying to snake him.
“Puckerman? Are you Jewish?” Rachel asked, her excitement barely contained.
“Yeah, what’s it to you?” He asked defensively and crossed his arms over his chest.
Rachel looked taken aback. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just...so am I and I haven’t met very many on campus.”
Puck let his hands drop and smiled. “Gee, I shoulda known. You’ve definitely got the looks.” He offered his arm to her in an exaggerated fashion. “Allow me to escort my fellow Jew to the cafeteria?”
With wide brown eyes, Rachel looked back at Quinn and then Sam, stammering. “Um...sure?” She took his arm and they began walking in the other direction. “I’ll see you later, Quinn.” Rachel gave her one last look and then turned away.
The blonde had a moment of panic as she watched her roommate walking away. “Be careful, Rachel!” She called back, glancing at Sam. “Is she going to be safe?”
“Yeah, Puck’s totally safe. I mean mostly safe. I mean well girls like him a whole lot, if you know what I mean.” Sam’s face flushed and he scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m sure Rachel will be fine.”
“Sam! Go with them and keep her from...being one of those girls that likes him a whole lot.” Quinn frowned at those words. It wasn’t the job of males to keep women safe. Hadn’t she just been reading about that? Women were capable of taking care of themselves. They were as strong and competent as men. She glanced in the direction Rachel and Puck had just taken and sighed. “Or just...go with them and keep an eye on her.”
Nodding, Sam waved and gave chase after them. He was a really good guy and Quinn was happy they were friends.
---
Later that evening when Rachel returned from her rehearsal, she was all smiles and talking about how amazing Noah was. Quinn worried the other girl was definitely going to become one of those girls. She tried not to cringe, tried to remind herself that it was Rachel’s life. It just made her a little uneasy.
“Noah invited me to a St. Patrick’s Day party. Well, he told me to bring you as well.” Rachel smirked over at her and readied for bed. “I think he likes you.”
Quinn ignored the feeling in her stomach at those words. She made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement but didn’t look up from her textbook.
---
The party was already in full swing by the time she and Rachel arrived. Puck had given them the address to an apartment that was about a fifteen minute walk from campus. It was just as well since she and Rachel didn’t have access to a car and the buses into town stopped running after seven.
The apartment was larger than any Quinn had seen, which admittedly weren’t many. There weren’t any near where she lived in Findlay proper. But even with all of the people milling about she could tell it was a massive space. There was also a pungent odor wafting through the entire place and she coughed a little at the cloud of smoke that gave the entire place a kind of haze.
She looked to her right and Rachel was already shedding her coat, revealing a lime green dress with white flowers and fell, what Quinn thought was a dangerously short length, mid-thigh and wasn’t at all like anything Rachel usually wore.
Sam came over and greeted them, shouting over the loud music. He leaned in and whispered something to Rachel and she handed him her coat. He looked over at Quinn expectantly and she quickly unbuttoned her own, handing it to him. Her green dress was pressed and the appropriate length, but she felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb among the others in their modern fare. Even Rachel, with her thick eye makeup, was blending in. She followed behind Sam and Quinn behind her until a train of people broke between them and she lost sight.
Quinn moved to what she guessed was the living room given the two couches and the people dancing in the middle of the floor. Though, it was more like bodies writhing together than actual moving. The odor was stronger in here and she watched people passing around what looked like a homemade cigarette, but it definitely didn’t smell like that. Frannie used to sneak cigarettes in their room when she’d been in high school. Quinn knew the difference.
She found a spot on the couch and sat down, smoothing her dress. She watched the crowd moving, body upon body. Guys next to girls next to other girls and guys kissing in the middle of the floor. Despite living with Rachel and being friends with Kurt, she’d yet to see anything like that. How could they just do this in the open without a care? What if someone they knew saw?
“Peace offering, sister,” a tall man with dark brown skin and a big afro said, holding out a “cigarette” to Quinn.
The blonde shook her head. “I don’t smoke. No thank you.”
The man looked surprised. “This right here is the finest sweet lucy around. It’ll open up your mind.” His tone was mellow and he kind of swayed as he spoke.
Quinn wondered if it was how he naturally was or if it was whatever he was smoking. She shook her head again and gave him a nice smile for good measure. With a shrug he wandered away and Quinn let out a sigh of relief. Her head was starting to feel a little cloudy as she continued to sit there and when someone handed her a brownie, she happily took it. She finished it quickly, ignoring the somewhat odd taste.
“I was five and he was six. We rode on the horses made of sticks. He wore black and I wore white. He would always win the fight. Bang, bang...he shot me down. Bang, bang I hit the ground...bang, bang that awful sound. Bang, bang...my baby shot me down.”
The music slowed and someone brought out a guitar. The bodies in front of her sat down and she realized it was Puck strumming along, but the voice was what caught her attention. It was unlike any she’d ever heard. So different, smokey and silky at the same time. It was a stark contrast to spending months listening to Rachel’s voice. A girl with long blonde hair sat in a guys lap and Quinn could see who was singing. She was unlike any girl Quinn had ever seen.
Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in thick waves was held back by a thick white headband. Her skin was a warm, caramel color and her thin body was barely covered by a shirt that revealed a bit of her midriff and a skirt that was shorter than Rachel’s dress. It was both appalling and intriguing and Quinn couldn’t look away.
The girl’s eyes opened and found Quinn’s across the room. Her head swam and she felt surrounded by the sound of the girl’s voice. She had a smug look about her that made Quinn bristle even in the sight of her tiny smile. The people around them seemed enraptured, but Quinn barely noticed them. It felt like the girl was singing only to her and the words drifted through her ears and over her body, making her feel calm and dizzy, like she needed to lay down, but she was already sitting.The blonde forced her eyes away and didn’t clap along with the rest of the group when the song ended.
“Hey, why’re you sitting here all alone?” Puck asked as the group moved back to dancing. She hadn’t even noticed his approach. Had he been standing there long? It was as if she no longer had a concept of time. She felt so odd. She looked up at him, relieved to see a familiar face even if it was Puck’s.
“I don’t know where Rachel’s gone,” she admitted but her voice sounded foreign to her own ears and she frowned. “Who was that girl?”
Puck looked around then back at her. “What? You mean the girl that was singing?” Quinn nodded and tilted her head to the side to see if she could catch sight of the girl. “That’s Santana,” he answered as if Quinn should know who that was. But before she could ask him anything further he held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
Quinn shook her head. “I don’t dance like that.”
“That’s okay. I’ll show you.” Puck reached down and tugged her hand until she was standing. He led her to the middle and gripped her hips.
Leaning in, Quinn spoke into his ear. “I can’t dance with you like this. I have a boyfriend.”
She could feel Puck’s laughter as he pulled her body even closer. “They always do. And where is this boyfriend?” He questioned, his hips sort of rocking against her in a hypnotic fashion.
“He’s fighting in the war.” Quinn couldn’t find whatever rhythm he was dancing, but she found comfort in the pattern.
“Of course he is,” Puck mumbled against the skin of her neck. She wanted to pull away, but her body felt heavy with movement. She managed to spot Rachel and Sam and frowned at the sight of them kissing like she’d seen the boys on the floor doing earlier. She didn’t know Rachel and Sam kissed like that and why didn’t Rachel tell her?
She didn’t have time to dwell because Puck spun her around and she caught sight of the girl, Santana, standing there. She looked mad, glaring directly at Quinn and Puck as they moved along the floor.
---
Quinn woke with a start, shooting straight up from where she’d fallen asleep. Had she fallen asleep on a couch? Why was she on a couch?
“Oh good, you’re not actually dead,” a voice to her right deadpanned. She looked over and saw the singer from last night.
Had that been a dream? What she still dreaming? “Where am I? Where’s Puck?”
The girl, Quinn tried to remember her name, rolled her eyes and set her bowl of cereal down on the end table. She stood up from the arm of the couch she’d been occupying and stretched. Her legs seemed long in the shorts she was wearing and her top was one of those flowy ones Quinn had seen some of the girls on campus wearing. “Right. Well, you’re in my apartment and the lady killer is passed out in my bed. Sorry,” she said, though the smile on her face was anything but.
“Oh!” Quinn said with frown. She didn’t know what to make of that. She couldn’t remember much the night after dancing with Puck. She looked down at herself and saw she was still fully clothed. That was good. She’d heard the stories of the not so nice things that sometimes happened to girls at parties.
“Yeah, that tends to happen sometimes.” The girl shrugged and reached for her bowl again.
The door to the apartment swung open and Rachel and Sam tumbled in laughing. Rachel’s eyes went wide and she raced over to the couch and sat down. “Oh good you’re up finally.’
“Finally? And why did you leave me alone here?” Quinn hissed her annoyance rising when she saw Sam’s guilty look.
“Well gosh, Quinn, you just looked so peaceful sleeping and Santana told us where to get some breakfast items. So, we just ran down the street to the store. I didn’t think you’d want to be woken up.” Rachel sighed, looking contrite.
Rachel was a good roommate like that, always looking out for her and Quinn felt guilty for snapping at her. “Thanks for not waking me, but next time don’t leave me alone with strangers,” she mumbled and smiled so that the other girl knew she wasn’t actually mad.
“I brought you back a bagel with cream cheese, just the way you like it.” Rachel motioned for Sam to bring her the bag. He walked over with a goofy grin on his face and Quinn remembered seeing them kiss the night before. She cocked an eyebrow at Rachel, who blushed and looked away. She smiled, truly happy for the girl, but she was definitely going to be asking her a lot of questions when they got back to their room.
“Do I smell bagels?” Puck asked, walking into the room in nothing but his jeans which were unbuttoned. He smirked over at Quinn winking and the blonde felt her own cheeks flush.
“No ya pendejo, how can you smell a bagel?” Santana questioned, her hand smacking his arm.
“It’s a heightened sense of smell. That’s why Jews got such big noses,” he called back at her when she headed into what Quinn assumed was the kitchen.
Rachel looked up at Sam and frowned, touching her nose. “Do you think my nose is big?”
---
“No way, man! Ben Cartwright would totally win in a gunfight. He’d have his out of his sling before Matt Dillon could even reach for his.” Sam was lounging across the couch, his head in Rachel’s lap as she played with his hair.
“The show is called Gunsmoke. Lay off the grass, my brother. You have don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Quinn rolled her eyes and went back to reading this book one of the girls at the rally had given her. SCUM Manifesto was underground literature and a lot more radical than anything she’d read prior to it. It was a little extreme for her taste, but it had some interesting points, Quinn thought. And it beat listening to the guys arguing over who would win in a Western brawl.
“Quinn, who do you think would win?”
The question ripped right through her thoughts and she glanced up at them, trying not to be annoyed. “I’m sorry, I don’t watch much television.” It was politer than what she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to start a fight. She just wanted to read her book.
“Boys, remember Quinn doesn’t have time. When else is she going to find the time to learn to bake pies and so on buttons?” Santana chimed in from where she was sitting on the floor. She met Quinn’s eyes with a defiant smirk.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I think you talk a good game and you sit there reading all of the books, but I don’t think you’re actually fighting for the cause.” Santana leaned back on her hands, her unrestrained breasts stretching the material of her shirt.
“I am too,” Quinn said back childishly, averting her gaze. “Just because we fight differently doesn’t mean we’re not on the same team.”
Santana’s smile grew at that and she glanced over at Puck. The two shared some kind of look and Quinn didn’t really understand. “Oh honey, believe me when I say we are definitely not on the same kind of team.”
Puck snickered and, annoyed, Quinn stood from her place on the opposite couch and walked to the door. “I’m going back to campus. Rachel, I’ll see you later.”
She was out of the door before the even had a chance to protest. Santana thought she was so smart. Just because she dressed like that and didn’t wear a bra didn’t mean she was better than Quinn.
Still she had to wonder at what team Santana was even referring to.
---
A week later, Quinn figured it out when she caught Santana in a rather heated embrace with girl she’d seen at a few rallies named Marley Rose, she figured out that was at least half of what she’d meant.
---
May 1966
April passed quickly. She spent most of her time with her new group of friends, well her new group of friends and Santana, and reading and going to rallies with every free moment she had from studying. She was going to finish the year with high honors, much to the delight of her parents, but Quinn consoled herself with the fact that she was becoming a highly educated young woman. She took comfort in the fact that she would be leaving a greater mark for her future children. She was more than her mother’s legacy already.
But as she packed up her belongings, hiding the feminist literature between her freshly laundered shirts, she grew worried. She would have to wait almost four months before returning to school and how would she make it through the summer? Being at home during holidays had almost been unbearable. What would she do for all of that time? Maybe she would squeeze a visit or two in with Rachel, but not too many or her parents would forbid her to go.
It dawned on her that she had spent months pretending to be a grown woman, but in all honesty, she wasn’t her own woman at all. She was still so dependent on her parents and that settled in her stomach like a lump of the stale bread in the cafeteria. She felt distraught and uncertain of what the summer would bring. How was she to go back to serving her father’s every whim? She’d go crazy.
She glanced up at Rachel’s poster of Barbra Streisand and tried to pull strength from it. It didn’t work as well as it did for Rachel, but eventually a plan started to form and she felt something within her ease. She would bide her time this summer and come fall, she’d start working on becoming less dependent.
---
“Promise me you’ll write!” Rachel begged as they took the last few moments to say goodbye. Rachel’s father was downstairs waiting. Quinn’s parents would be there later that evening.
“At least once a week,” Quinn promised yet again. Rachel was prone to dramatics, but the blonde had to admit she didn’t want to leave this place either.
Rachel wrapped her arms around her roommate and squeezed tightly. “Oh I don’t know why I’m so sad. This isn’t goodbye. It’s I’ll see you later. I’m just going to miss you so much.”
Quinn’s eyes fluttered shut. “I’m going to miss you too, Rachel. Now go before you father comes looking for you.”
They shared one last hug and then Rachel was off, her worn saddle shoes a reminder of how far they’d come.
---
June 1966
Being at home was exactly as it had always been. It was just that Quinn felt as if she no longer belonged here.
---
Quinn lay on her back when the knock at the front door came. She frowned because she was the only one home and her mother hadn’t mentioned expecting company. She slid her feminist magazine beneath her mattress again and flipped over to stand up. She needed to straighten her appearance before she actually answered the door. So she hoped whomever it was would just be patient with her.
She tucked her blouse back into her skirt neatly, and slipped her loafers back onto her feet. She combed her fingers through her hair and frowned a little. It was getting long. She should probably cut it, but she’d been thinking about letting it grow out. All of the girls in her new group wore their hair longer than this and it was beautiful.
The knock sounded again and she turned away from the mirror and raced out of the door. She hurried down the stairs and paused right before the knob, taking a moment to calm her breathing. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with still having manners, but her brain reasoned that maybe manners were yet another thing that the patriarchal establishment had put on women to ensure they behaved in a certain way. She’d have to find out.
The door opened and she let out a gasp when she found out who was on the other side of it. Finn smiled down at her, looking a lot older than he had before he left.
“Hi Quinnie, it’s so great to see you.” They were hugging before she managed to get out a single word and she wondered why she suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe.
---
“Yeah, the war is something. You should see it over there, Q. I mean the whole place is green and the people look so different from Americans, but I think we’re making a change. You know, we’re really showing them how great life could be.” Finn sat back on the porch swing. His mother had retired to bed a while ago.
Quinn listened to him speak. It was all so different from what she’d been hearing at the rallies at school. Maybe people were just confused. It was a very scary time in the world and she felt happy that guys like Finn were out there trying to make it safe. He was such a good guy, but there was something niggling at the back of her mind and she couldn’t place it. Something just felt wrong about fighting a war to ensure peace.
“How long will you be home?” She asked instead, leaning her head on his shoulder.
He wrapped her arm around her’s. “I’m only here until July. Then I’m going back. They promised me a great job when I get back and I can get you a nice ring. Then we can be married in another year, two tops.”
The air rushed out of Quinn’s lungs at just the thought.
---
Three weeks passed and everything was back to normal between her and Finn. They spent all of their free time together and she was epitome of the perfect girlfriend. A part of her loathed the role she was playing, but the other part wondered if she wasn’t playing a role at all. Was this really who she was?
---
July 1966
Late one July afternoon, a huge car pulled up in front of Quinn’s house. She and Finn had been out in the yard, joking around and she paused, wondering who was visiting. The passenger door opened first and Rachel popped out, a huge smile on her face.
“Quinn!” Rachel was already running to her before the shock at seeing her roommate wore off. She smiled brightly as Rachel came through the gate and hurled herself into Quinn’s arms.
The two laughed and hugged tightly and Quinn heard the sound of the car doors opening and closing. She was surprised to see Kurt, Puck, and Sam walking towards her. She’d missed them almost as much as she’d missed Rachel. They all hugged her too, Puck spinning her around in the air as if she weighed nothing.
“Quinn, who are all of these people?”
She’d almost forgotten that Finn was standing there. Quinn stepped away from Puck quickly and walked back over to her boyfriend. “Finn, these are my friend from school. That’s Puck, Kurt, and Sam. And Rachel’s my roommate.”
They all extended pleasantries, but she could tell Finn was uncomfortable. All of the guys were dressed in flared denims and flowing shirts. Kurt’s hair had grown out to a semi-shaggy look and Sam’s hair was now past his shoulders. And Rachel was wearing orange and white one-piece that reminded Quinn a little of a bathing suit and showed off almost all of her leg. Something Finn was clearly not used to seeing.
“What are you guys doing here?” She asked when a silence fell between the group awkwardly.
“Oh, we’re taking a car trip to New York City for Independence Day. There’s going to be a rally and fireworks,” Sam answered, slinging his arm over Rachel’s shoulders.
Her roommate nodded and practically bounced at his side. “Yeah, we were hoping you’d come with us. I haven’t seen you in so long. It feels like practically forever.”
Quinn knew how she felt. She’d been going stir-crazy at home before Finn had come back.”I’d love to go! I just...Finn’s not going to be here for much longer and what would I tell my folks?”
“Tell them that you’re finally breaking the chains of oppression.”
Spinning around, Quinn felt her heart trip a beat at seeing Santana. What was she doing there? Quinn looked down at her shirt that stopped just below her breasts and exposed her midriff completely and her shorts that were sinfully short. Why did she always have to dress like that? Quinn thought with a frown.
“Or you could tell them that you’re going on a trip with your real friend.” The girl looked up at Finn and then back at Quinn with that little smirk the blonde had always hated. And since when was Santana her friend?
“It’s not that simple, Santana. I have responsibilities here and my mother would worry. I’ve never been to New York before.”
Santana rolled her eyes and then looked up at Finn. “How do you put up with this, man? You want to come don’t you?”
Finn had been almost oddly quiet during the whole exchange and Quinn couldn’t bring herself to look up at his face. What he must think of her friends and her by extension.
“Sure, it sounds like a lot of fun.”
Quinn’s eyes shot to his face and her brow wrinkled in confusion. “What?”
Smiling down at her, Finn patted her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “Sounds like fun. I don’t have a lot of time left and I think we could have a great time.” He glanced back up at Santana and gave her a little nod. “Count us in.”
---
“How can you defend it? We’re basically over there killing innocent people because they don’t have ‘freedom.’ That doesn’t make any sense!” Puck’s voice raised and he shook his head.
“That isn’t how it is. You don’t know. You’re not there. We are helping South Vietnam because they want their freedom. How can that be bad?” Finn questioned and grimaced, setting down his empty beer bottle.
Sam was huddled next to Rachel, looking up at the stars and didn’t bother joining. Quinn could tell he wanted to, but Rachel was whispering into his ear. Puck and Finn had been arguing since the anti-war rally three hours before. Quinn had known it was a bad idea for him to go, but he’d insisted.
Puck took a drag of his joint and held it in, blowing the smoke out after a few moments. “You’ve been brainwashed by the man. You need to read, study what this war is really about. Showing the world who has the biggest gun.”
Finn laughed humorlessly. “Is that what they’re teaching you at that fancy school of yours? The truth? Why don’t you do what real men do and enlist? Fight for your country.”
“You think signing up to go over there and fight in this war is what it means to be a real man?” Puck sat up and laughed. The group they’d met up with at the rally were sitting next to him, watching it like a ping pong match. Quinn sighed. She didn’t want to be around this fighting. She was starting to wish Finn hadn’t come along.
She stood up, intending to walk away for some fresh air, but Finn’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Can you get me another beer? Thanks, Quinnie.” He barely looked at her when he spoke and she flashed back to Thanksgiving and Christmas. She gritted her teeth and nodded, walking over to the cooler.
“Is there some reason he couldn’t get that himself? Are his hands broken?” Santana was in front of her seemingly out of nowhere. She’s almost forgotten about the other girl. She’d been unusually quiet since they’d gotten to New York, mostly spending her time with Puck or Rachel.
Quinn started, nearly dropping the beer back into the ice cold water. “What?”
“I didn’t think you did that anymore. Served men.”
Hazel eyes glanced back over at Finn and shook her head. She felt guilt settle in her stomach and glared at Santana for making her feel it. “It’s not like that. He’s just in the middle of something and I was getting up. I really don’t mind.”
Santana stared at her for a long time, her expression disbelieving and disappointed. “Whatever you say.”
Quinn stalked away. Who did Santana think she was anyway? Quinn wasn’t serving Finn. She wasn’t. Santana could go take a long walk off of a short pier.
---
The air was sticky humid as the fireworks started going off over the park. Quinn had stepped away from the group again, needing a break from it all. She’d promised to call her parents in the morning and she hoped she’d remember. She was pretty stoned right now and there was be a good chance she wouldn’t.
“You copasetic?”
She didn’t have to look over to see that Puck was standing next to her, but she didn’t mind. “Yep, I’m feeling really good, kind of mellow.”
Puck smiled when she looked over at him. “I told you. I only get the best.”
Another firework went off and Quinn let it distract her. Being near Puck always gave her a funny feeling in her stomach. She did her best to ignore it, but the way he smiled at her just made her feel things she didn’t with Finn. That was so very dangerous.
“So that’s the boyfriend, then.” It wasn’t a question and Quinn didn’t bother to reply. “That guy is a total meathead.”
“Well, he’s a meathead I love. So watch what you say.” She knew what he was trying to do, but she knew Finn was a good man. He’d be a great husband too. Puck would never be someone’s husband. He didn’t even like having girlfriends.
Puck sighed like he was annoyed with her, but she didn’t care. “You’re smarter than that. You’re bigger than him and just being some guy’s wife.”
She knew he was right. She’d been thinking it a lot since Finn came home, but she really did love him and being his wife wouldn’t be that bad. He loved her and he’d take care of her and their family. Didn’t mean she liked the idea that maybe he thought she wasn’t able to take care of herself.
“Looks like your boyfriend is enjoying the show as well.” Quinn looked at him in confusion and then in the direction of his eyes.
Finn was dancing around with Santana kind of draped over him. Quinn wasn’t sure who she was angrier with.
---
“I’m having a good time. I didn’t think I would with all of these peace-loving what do they call them? Hippies? I don’t know. They’re kind of fun.”
Quinn knew Finn wasn’t talking about Puck and Sam and she rolled onto her side, looking over at him. He was so handsome and she loved him so much, no matter what Puck said, she knew it to be true. Watching him with Santana just made her realize she’d give all of this up to be his wife. She didn’t want to lose him.
He didn’t question when she shifted in their joined sleeping bags and pressed her lips to his. No, there wasn’t a single word uttered until he was nestled between her thighs and his light brown eyes bore into her’s, the concern etched into his brow.
“Are you sure?” He whispered, looking around as if to be sure that no one would notice this single act of intimacy. She’d always pictured this would happen on her wedding night, on their marital bed, her last name Hudson instead of Fabray.
But things were different and she was learning the world was different than she’d ever imagined and after this, she knew she would never be the same. She’d be giving him a piece of her to take back to Vietnam. Something to ensure he’d always come back. So, she nodded and bit her lip to keep from crying out at the quick pain she felt when he entered her.
It was only for a moment and then she lost herself.
---
The morning brought fresh dew upon their skin and the harsh realities of what she’d done. There was a small part of her that wanted to take it back immediately, but she knew she couldn’t. Besides she was a woman now. She felt somehow older, more mature and she was owning her own body, deciding not to let society dictate to her when it was “the right time” to grow in her own truth. Rings meant ownership and Quinn wanted her equality.
She sat up, wanting to pull on her shirt again before anyone noticed what had happened. There was a movement out of the corner of her eye and she looked, locking eyes with Santana who just shook her head before turning away.
---