Red lips
Pairing: Faberry
Rating: PG
Author’s note: I do not own any of these characters. The story is set in AU New York where Rachel works on Broadway and Quinn is an actress but is currently between projects.
Unbetaed so all mistakes are mine.
Word count: 1.625
A breeze caught the pages of the paper when the door to the bar opened. Quinn turned her gaze from the paper to see a small brunette walk in in 9 inch pumps and a dress that was supposed, as far as Quinn could imagine, to look innocent but was far from it. It was clinging in all the right places, a stunning piece of work in off-white with half sleeves ending just a couple of inches above the knee. The brunette was standing a couple of steps inside the room, looking around, it was clear that this wasn’t her usual setting - or at least not at this time of day. Most people should be at work by now Quinn wondered. So the brunette was either unemployed, a high end call-girl who only walked the streets at night, a tourist or working in some kind of entertainment.
She looked down at her paper again but secretly kept watching the girl. The bartender came over to the woman after a couple of minutes. It was busy for the bar even though the time was only 3 in the afternoon. The bar wasn’t really your typical type of bar, it was more like a place to hang out with really good coffee and more importantly really pretty girls. Quinn smiled at herself, it had not been rare, that she took a girl home after a couple of drinks. Not that she was slutty or anything - she loved women, and what if she liked to sleep with as many as possible? Quinn often sat at the bar with a coffee just enjoying watching the world or arrived later and had a beer with some friends.
She did not have a full time job - that was one of the good things about having a two rom-coms that was a hit at the box office and a more radical indie movie in post-production, it gave her a lot of free time to hang out, go for walks, explore, take pictures without having to worry about the financial part. There were days where she would go for a run like she usually did in the morning, then come home, have a shower and sit in her bed all day, watching movies or Grey’s Anatomy (again), in her underwear while drinking a cup of hot milk and eating M&Ms and just feeling good about herself. Then there were days like today where she would grab her bag and wear her favourite jeans and a tee. Although she could dress up and knew she looked good doing it - always in classic outfits, she liked days like these. The outfit might be casual, her hair might be in a messy ponytail - but she liked wearing different bright colours on her nails and lips.
The woman had placed her order: whiskey without ice. That wasn’t the type of drink the blonde would have pictured the woman drinking, but then again - she had walked into a bar. Quinn wondered, as she had a tendency to do, what the brunette’s thoughts were. What was going on in her life? Why would a pretty girl like her sit alone in a bar, drinking whiskey by herself?
The girl had downed her drink in one large gulp and had quickly ordered another. And then another. The brunette looked past the booths and out of the large windows where people were rushing by…
Typically New York Quinn thought. No one really bothering to worry about anyone but themselves. All work and no play. No one to care for the pretty girl at the bar.
The woman looked far away sometimes, so introspective and thoughtful. Quinn found herself staring more obviously at her. She kept looking until her eyes suddenly locked with deep mahogany.
Shit! Quinn was caught. Embarrassing. Okay, keep cool Fabray. Smile and look away.
She did not get a chance to be all nonchalant about it because at the same time she had decided on a gameplan the brunette smiled at her. Her eyes sparkled and all the sadness vanished into oblivion. Quinn had to stop herself from smiling like a goof and looked down to her paper again. Okay, not what I intended but I can work with this.
When she dared to look up from her paper again the brunette was having a conversation with Connie, the bartender. Connie was laughing at something the brunette said and leaned casually over the bar to reveal a bit more of her cleavage.
Casual my ass, Connie.
Quinn found herself irrationally jealous and had to fight to not intrude and pull the stranger’s attention back to herself. But now was not the time for one of her “crazy moments” as her friends usually tease her about. Those moments would usually have her being quite predatory and would have one of two outcomes: A slap or a wild one-night stand. The brunette did not look like one who did one night stands, so that was out of the question and Quinn would prefer not to be slapped today. She turned her attention back to the words on the page, suddenly feeling inspired.
Quinn was still so distracted by her own thoughts, that she'd forgotten where she was until a shadow stole the sunlight from her paper. She quickly looked up, ready to scholar whoever dared interrupt her work. But her eyes met brown and suddenly that thought disappeared.
"Sss-sorry." The darkhaired woman stuttered, twisting her hands and looking extremely uncomfortable. When Quinn was just about to ask her why she’d walked over the brunette coughed once and straightened her back - that move completely changed the girl and in front of Quinn she saw a transformed woman. The woman spoke with a much calmer voice, one that demanded respect
Sorry to disturb you, but I was just wondering where you bought those shoes
Quinn was startled. That was not the words she had expected to come out of the brunette’s mouth. She was affected by the strong brown eyes and her newfound fondness and to hide her unusual nervousness she looked down. She was wearing custom made brown leather dress shoes.
I’m sorry. I do not think you would be able to buy some like these. I got them when I was in Italy last Christmas.
The girl looked a bit disappointed and that was not Quinn’s intention - she hated disappointing people. That might be a characteristic she had developed in her troubled teen age years.
Quinn quickly shook her head and glanced at the woman who was still standing in front of her.
I can’t quite imagine you wearing shoes like these. You look way more femme.
She had deliberately used the term ‘femme’, hoping the girl would recognize the queer-ish term and react. But if she had startled the girl, she did not let it show. Instead she just said:
Well, miss. There is a lot you don’t know about me.
The she turned on her heel and walked up to Connie who pointed towards the back at the bar. The girl followed the directions and went into the bathroom.
As soon as the girl was out of sight Quinn gathered her stuff. She found a pen and a napkin. She walked up to the bar, handed Connie the napkin who laughed at her but agreed to her plan - then she put on her blazer and walked into the still chilly but bright spring.
When Rachel emerged from the bathroom her eyes instantly sought after the blonde among the people in the bar. She was sad to see, that the woman had left. She would have loved to talk more with the stunning blonde. She went up to the place where she had left her stuff, got some money out from her wallet and gestured to Connie who was flirting with a Hispanic looking girl at the other end of the bar. Connie waved at her and she went out of the door.
She turned right and began walking towards the theatre. It was only a couple of blocks away and the walk would do her good, even if she was wearing crappy shoes. She had not been thinking when she left the theatre in the middle of a wild argument with the director of her new Broadway show. The leading guy had just been arrested for dealing drugs at the theatre and even though the premiere was two months away she hated having to change leading man. She had been working with Conor for the last year. At least she had gotten her head cleared. She was ready to go back to work.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around.
Hi Rachel.
It was Connie, the bartender. What on earth was she doing here?!
Oh God, please don’t be following me to ask me out on a date Rachel thought.
I just came to give you this. And easy now, it’s not from me. Connie said with a smile and turned around.
Rachel looked at the folded napkin in her hands. She unfolded it and looked at the elegant font. The note had a kiss on it by someone with red lipstick. Rachel smiled at herself at the memory of the beautiful blonde woman with exquisite taste in shoes.
Wanna meet me for a drink sometime?
X Quinn
Rachel smiled. She had never received a note like this before. It was both exhilarating and adorable.
Quinn. She spoke the word out loud, tasting it. It sounded quite nice. She would really like to know this Quinn better. But how was she to know when to meet up with her?