Glee AU: Under Covers - Chapter 1
Under Covers - Chapter 1
Author: Steppenwolf_20
Fandom: Glee AU, with aspects of canon
Setting: this starts off shortly before the beginning of season 3, but Quinn and Santana did not attend McKinley High.
Spoiler: Season 3
Pairing: Faberry, Brittana, Quinntana, minor Rachel/Finn, Santana/Puck, Quinn/Puck,
Rating: NC-17 overall
Additional warnings: There are lesbians in this. And sex. And sex between those lesbians. And a little violence.
Summary: Going back to high school is hard, but going back in a wheelchair is even harder. But in order to catch a killer at McKinley High Quinn and Santana are willing to do it. Will they find the killer? Or will they find something else?
Wordcount: 2231
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Authors note: I am aware that I’m bending the boundaries for police work here. A 21 year old cop would probably never go undercover, and I guess one doesn’t simply lend his cops to another state. That would be work for the FBI. So don’t sue me and just play along.
Thanks to: apison and willowezra for doing the beta on this without even knowing me; to yellowsmurf6 for answering all my stupid questions about police work and stuff, and to author18 for listening to my crazy ideas and offering additional input.
Prologue
Chapter 1
One year earlier
Quinn was sitting at her desk signing her last report for the day, as her shift was about to end.
“Fabray! Lopez! My office, now!“
Quinn’s head shot up in surprise, her eyes locking on Santana’s across the double desk. The Latina just raised an eyebrow, shrugged her shoulders and stood. She didn’t like paper work anyway, so any interruption was welcome.
Quinn had an uneasy feeling about this. She and Santana had only been on the job for three months. They were the rookies and they had been on the receiving end of some pranks already, but the chief had never been involved. She wasn’t aware of anything they had done wrong. Everything had been by the book. Even their reports were on time, so why was she feeling like her world was about to fall apart again?
Quinn rerouted her desk phone to the front desk, then did the same for San’s phone and hurried over to the chief’s office. She liked the chief. He was in his fifties and divorced (twice) with two daughters her age. He was a strict, no-nonsense kind of guy with a strong sense of duty and honor.
He had a soft spot for her and Santana, possibly because they reminded him of his daughters, she wasn’t sure. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t complaining. He was one of the good guys and Quinn was glad she had ended up in New Haven, Indiana after the Academy and she was lucky to be here with her best friend of fifteen years.
Quinn closed the door and took a seat beside Santana. The chief didn’t look angry (which was good). He looked … troubled, worried, like he hadn’t slept for at least a week. Her feelings of dread intensified. Oh yeah, something big was coming.
The blonde threw a glance at Santana, who sat relaxed, her legs crossed at the ankles. Despite outward appearances, Quinn could tell that she was worried as well. She knew Santana, and while her face seemed calm, there was a glint in her eye and her shoulders were just a tiny bit tense.
Quinn dreaded the coming conversation and at the same time she wished it would start, so they could be done with it already. Apparently San felt the same way because she was the one that spoke up.
“So chief, yellin’ at us to move our sexy asses in here and now the silent treatment. Whassup? Need us for that new police calendar? I’m totally down with that. But no nude pics, just to be clear.”
Quinn couldn’t help it. She started laughing out loud. And even the chief couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. Santana had done it again. The tension was gone. The air didn’t feel as heavy any more. Like after a summer storm.
“No, Lopez. No calendar shoot. Maybe next year. We will talk about that nude thing then.”
Oh yes, the chief had a great sense of humor, too.
“Okay girls,” Santana frowned at that a little. “Before I tell you what’s going on I want you to know, that you can say no. There will be absolutely no negative consequences whatsoever. This is a voluntary assignment, but if you take it, I need you to be all in. There’s no room for doubts. The job will be difficult and dangerous, especially for you, Quinn, so I want you to go home after our little chat and sleep on it. You have until Monday to decide. Do you understand?”
Quinn and Santana nodded.
“Furthermore, this case could be a career maker, but could just as easily be a career killer if it goes badly. When, IF, you do this, you have to do it because you believe it’s the right thing to do, not just because it’s your job.”
“Can I ask the obvious question here?” Quinn interrupted. “Why us? We’re rookies, still green, barely out of school. Why not ask someone more experienced?”
The chief smiled. “You will understand when I have explained everything, Quinn.”
“So, start explaining already. I wants to get my weekend on.”
“Santana!” Quinn almost yelled and punched her friend into the shoulder.
“Thank you, Quinn, but she’s right. Let’s get to the point shall we?”
Both girls nodded again.
“Okay. A good friend of mine is the Chief of Police in Lima, Ohio. Much like the two of you, we went to high school and the academy together. We talk regularly and sometimes we ask for input or opinions on a case. A fresh set of eyes--you know the drill. Anyway, he has a nasty case on his desk and has asked for my help. There have been some murders of high school kids and they can’t get a grip on the murderer. They’ve had some suspects, but couldn’t charge any of them. The cases were originally classified as suicides, but later it became clear that all of the victims had help. A lot of evidence was overlooked due to the cases being mislabeled. Apparently, the killer is some religious nut job killing kids just because they are “sinners”. You know gay kids, special needs kids, and handicapped kids. All victims attended McKinley High, so that is where I need you. You will be going back to high school.”
Monday morning found Quinn and Santana in the chief's office way before their shift started. They didn't get much sleep over the weekend, discussing the case over and over.
“Q, you really wanna do this? It will hurt like a bitch. “
“Yes, San. We can’t turn our backs on these kids.” Quinn had her mind set. This was a chance for her to redeem herself and finally put the regrets she had from her High School experience to rest.
“They will cut your scars open. Again! They. Will. Cut. Your. Scars. Open! You will hurt all over again! You’ll have to go back to that damn chair. You hated that chair, Q. They will insult you and treat you like shit. They will treat you like we treated those kids.” Santana sighed. “I don’t want to see you suffer.”
“San, it’s not like I can’t walk. I’m just pretending. It’s not really me they’re insulting. It’s just my persona. It won’t be that bad, San. And it’s for a good cause, the best actually. We’re helping kids that can’t help themselves. We can make a difference, San. I want to do this…I need to do this, for myself and for them.”
“Fine. But don’t come crying on my shoulder when it starts getting to you,” Santana huffed.
Quinn grinned. Though she wouldn’t admit it to her now, Santana totally had her back.
Santana wanted to do the case as much as Quinn did, but she didn't want her friend to suffer because of it. And so she was really torn between her protectiveness for Quinn and her determination to catch this killer. In the end, after going in circles with their discussion, Quinn had convinced Santana, that she had been in much worse pain already and that she could handle it.
When the chief walked in, he was surprised to find the two women already waiting in his office.
“Good morning, ladies. So, did you think about my proposal?”
Santana and Quinn nodded.
“We’ll do it, chief,” Santana said.
“Are you sure? Quinn, this will be hard for you, and not just physically. Are you absolutely certain?”
“Yes, chief. I’m absolutely sure.”
He knew that he had made the right choice and could think of no better team than these two. If anyone could pull this off, they could.
“You both have lots to do so I won’t take too much time. I know you can do this and I wish you both the best of luck. Make sure you check in as scheduled and I will see you when this is over.” He stood up and shook their hands proudly as they walked out.
Quinn spent the next four weeks in the hospital and physical therapy. And every minute not spent in therapy they were studying. They were memorizing names, numbers and places as well as learning the basics about undercover work. They spent a lot of time internalizing their back story, and it was just so ridiculous, it might actually work.
The first day out of the hospital, back in the wheelchair, even if it was not real, was harder than she imagined. Not the actual being in a wheelchair part, but the memories. It took her back into the dark place where she had been. Back to her struggles, to the hopelessness, to the fear. When she looked in the mirror, she saw her seventeen year old self looking back at her. The girl who had been scarred for life. The girl who didn’t know if she would ever be able to walk again, let alone dance. It didn’t help that her actual scars were hurting again. It felt like it had been four weeks and not four years since the accident. She would be losing her mind if she had to do it alone, but thankfully Santana was with her every step of the way.
Just like Quinn, Santana had to get used to the chair again--lifting Quinn into the wheelchair and onto the bed and back again. Lifting Quinn into the car and handling the chair. It all needed to be routine to them. Thankfully it all came back rather quickly.
It was a strange feeling to be lifted by Santana again, and it hurt. The fresh (old) scars hurt like hell. Quinn tried not to cry out in pain, but Santana realized it anyways and grimaced.
“I hate this, Q. I already hate this case and what it is doing to you and it hasn’t even really started.”
Quinn breathed through the pain; she had been in worse pain a few times in her life already. “It will get better San, it’s because the scars are still fresh.”
“I know that. And it’s not what I was talking about and you know it.”
Quinn did know what Santana meant. She meant the dark place she had gone to after the accident. The doctors had told her that her chances of walking again were slim at best. Her body had been painted with ugly red scars. Everything hurt, even her legs, which she couldn’t actually feel. Phantom pain the doctors called it. She had lost her will to live then. She thought that she had lost everything. She’d lost her family due to the pregnancy. She had given up her daughter so that Beth could have a good life. And now she had lost her legs, and everything she loved was taken from her. Cheerleading, running, dancing and her beauty…everything she had worked so hard for had been taken from her in an instant.
It had been Santana who saved her. She had been a constant at her side, supporting her, challenging her, but never pitying her. Santana told her that she was still beautiful, still loveable. Then she showed her. They had made love and Santana had worshiped Quinn’s body. With tears streaming down her face, she had begged Quinn not to leave her, to come back to her. And then Quinn had promised. It was the first real step forward in her recovery.
They had dated for a while, not that anything really changed, except they now had mind blowing sex. After a few months, by mutual understanding, they stopped having sex with each other and went back to simply being friends. Even though the romantic part of their relationship hadn’t worked out, they had no regrets.
Shortly after they were back to being just friends, Quinn had started to feel her legs again, and by the end of senior year she could walk across the stage to get her diploma. Sure, she still needed a cane, but she could walk. Santana’s smile at witnessing her progress rivaled the sun in it’s brilliance.
By the time college started, Quinn was able to walk most of the time without a cane. Slowly, but surely, she was making progress. At the end of the first semester she was able to run half a mile and attended a dance class again. Near the end of her first year of college she was almost back to her old self. The only reminder being the scars that hurt when the weather changed. It had taken two years and a lot of hard, disciplined work but she made it.
And now she was drifting towards that dark place again.
“Quinn, you promised. Remember? It still does count. Don’t leave me again.” Santana pleaded.
“I’m sorry, San. It’s just … I have to adjust, okay? It will take a little time, but I won’t go back there. I promise. I will be okay. But, can you stay with me tonight?”
Santana lifted her eyebrows. “Quinn, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“No San, not like that. I just… can you hold me. I can’t be alone tonight.”
“Of course I can. I will always be here for you, for whatever you need.”
Author: Steppenwolf_20
Fandom: Glee AU, with aspects of canon
Setting: this starts off shortly before the beginning of season 3, but Quinn and Santana did not attend McKinley High.
Spoiler: Season 3
Pairing: Faberry, Brittana, Quinntana, minor Rachel/Finn, Santana/Puck, Quinn/Puck,
Rating: NC-17 overall
Additional warnings: There are lesbians in this. And sex. And sex between those lesbians. And a little violence.
Summary: Going back to high school is hard, but going back in a wheelchair is even harder. But in order to catch a killer at McKinley High Quinn and Santana are willing to do it. Will they find the killer? Or will they find something else?
Wordcount: 2231
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Authors note: I am aware that I’m bending the boundaries for police work here. A 21 year old cop would probably never go undercover, and I guess one doesn’t simply lend his cops to another state. That would be work for the FBI. So don’t sue me and just play along.
Thanks to: apison and willowezra for doing the beta on this without even knowing me; to yellowsmurf6 for answering all my stupid questions about police work and stuff, and to author18 for listening to my crazy ideas and offering additional input.
Prologue
Chapter 1
One year earlier
Quinn was sitting at her desk signing her last report for the day, as her shift was about to end.
“Fabray! Lopez! My office, now!“
Quinn’s head shot up in surprise, her eyes locking on Santana’s across the double desk. The Latina just raised an eyebrow, shrugged her shoulders and stood. She didn’t like paper work anyway, so any interruption was welcome.
Quinn had an uneasy feeling about this. She and Santana had only been on the job for three months. They were the rookies and they had been on the receiving end of some pranks already, but the chief had never been involved. She wasn’t aware of anything they had done wrong. Everything had been by the book. Even their reports were on time, so why was she feeling like her world was about to fall apart again?
Quinn rerouted her desk phone to the front desk, then did the same for San’s phone and hurried over to the chief’s office. She liked the chief. He was in his fifties and divorced (twice) with two daughters her age. He was a strict, no-nonsense kind of guy with a strong sense of duty and honor.
He had a soft spot for her and Santana, possibly because they reminded him of his daughters, she wasn’t sure. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t complaining. He was one of the good guys and Quinn was glad she had ended up in New Haven, Indiana after the Academy and she was lucky to be here with her best friend of fifteen years.
Quinn closed the door and took a seat beside Santana. The chief didn’t look angry (which was good). He looked … troubled, worried, like he hadn’t slept for at least a week. Her feelings of dread intensified. Oh yeah, something big was coming.
The blonde threw a glance at Santana, who sat relaxed, her legs crossed at the ankles. Despite outward appearances, Quinn could tell that she was worried as well. She knew Santana, and while her face seemed calm, there was a glint in her eye and her shoulders were just a tiny bit tense.
Quinn dreaded the coming conversation and at the same time she wished it would start, so they could be done with it already. Apparently San felt the same way because she was the one that spoke up.
“So chief, yellin’ at us to move our sexy asses in here and now the silent treatment. Whassup? Need us for that new police calendar? I’m totally down with that. But no nude pics, just to be clear.”
Quinn couldn’t help it. She started laughing out loud. And even the chief couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. Santana had done it again. The tension was gone. The air didn’t feel as heavy any more. Like after a summer storm.
“No, Lopez. No calendar shoot. Maybe next year. We will talk about that nude thing then.”
Oh yes, the chief had a great sense of humor, too.
“Okay girls,” Santana frowned at that a little. “Before I tell you what’s going on I want you to know, that you can say no. There will be absolutely no negative consequences whatsoever. This is a voluntary assignment, but if you take it, I need you to be all in. There’s no room for doubts. The job will be difficult and dangerous, especially for you, Quinn, so I want you to go home after our little chat and sleep on it. You have until Monday to decide. Do you understand?”
Quinn and Santana nodded.
“Furthermore, this case could be a career maker, but could just as easily be a career killer if it goes badly. When, IF, you do this, you have to do it because you believe it’s the right thing to do, not just because it’s your job.”
“Can I ask the obvious question here?” Quinn interrupted. “Why us? We’re rookies, still green, barely out of school. Why not ask someone more experienced?”
The chief smiled. “You will understand when I have explained everything, Quinn.”
“So, start explaining already. I wants to get my weekend on.”
“Santana!” Quinn almost yelled and punched her friend into the shoulder.
“Thank you, Quinn, but she’s right. Let’s get to the point shall we?”
Both girls nodded again.
“Okay. A good friend of mine is the Chief of Police in Lima, Ohio. Much like the two of you, we went to high school and the academy together. We talk regularly and sometimes we ask for input or opinions on a case. A fresh set of eyes--you know the drill. Anyway, he has a nasty case on his desk and has asked for my help. There have been some murders of high school kids and they can’t get a grip on the murderer. They’ve had some suspects, but couldn’t charge any of them. The cases were originally classified as suicides, but later it became clear that all of the victims had help. A lot of evidence was overlooked due to the cases being mislabeled. Apparently, the killer is some religious nut job killing kids just because they are “sinners”. You know gay kids, special needs kids, and handicapped kids. All victims attended McKinley High, so that is where I need you. You will be going back to high school.”
Monday morning found Quinn and Santana in the chief's office way before their shift started. They didn't get much sleep over the weekend, discussing the case over and over.
“Q, you really wanna do this? It will hurt like a bitch. “
“Yes, San. We can’t turn our backs on these kids.” Quinn had her mind set. This was a chance for her to redeem herself and finally put the regrets she had from her High School experience to rest.
“They will cut your scars open. Again! They. Will. Cut. Your. Scars. Open! You will hurt all over again! You’ll have to go back to that damn chair. You hated that chair, Q. They will insult you and treat you like shit. They will treat you like we treated those kids.” Santana sighed. “I don’t want to see you suffer.”
“San, it’s not like I can’t walk. I’m just pretending. It’s not really me they’re insulting. It’s just my persona. It won’t be that bad, San. And it’s for a good cause, the best actually. We’re helping kids that can’t help themselves. We can make a difference, San. I want to do this…I need to do this, for myself and for them.”
“Fine. But don’t come crying on my shoulder when it starts getting to you,” Santana huffed.
Quinn grinned. Though she wouldn’t admit it to her now, Santana totally had her back.
Santana wanted to do the case as much as Quinn did, but she didn't want her friend to suffer because of it. And so she was really torn between her protectiveness for Quinn and her determination to catch this killer. In the end, after going in circles with their discussion, Quinn had convinced Santana, that she had been in much worse pain already and that she could handle it.
When the chief walked in, he was surprised to find the two women already waiting in his office.
“Good morning, ladies. So, did you think about my proposal?”
Santana and Quinn nodded.
“We’ll do it, chief,” Santana said.
“Are you sure? Quinn, this will be hard for you, and not just physically. Are you absolutely certain?”
“Yes, chief. I’m absolutely sure.”
He knew that he had made the right choice and could think of no better team than these two. If anyone could pull this off, they could.
“You both have lots to do so I won’t take too much time. I know you can do this and I wish you both the best of luck. Make sure you check in as scheduled and I will see you when this is over.” He stood up and shook their hands proudly as they walked out.
Quinn spent the next four weeks in the hospital and physical therapy. And every minute not spent in therapy they were studying. They were memorizing names, numbers and places as well as learning the basics about undercover work. They spent a lot of time internalizing their back story, and it was just so ridiculous, it might actually work.
The first day out of the hospital, back in the wheelchair, even if it was not real, was harder than she imagined. Not the actual being in a wheelchair part, but the memories. It took her back into the dark place where she had been. Back to her struggles, to the hopelessness, to the fear. When she looked in the mirror, she saw her seventeen year old self looking back at her. The girl who had been scarred for life. The girl who didn’t know if she would ever be able to walk again, let alone dance. It didn’t help that her actual scars were hurting again. It felt like it had been four weeks and not four years since the accident. She would be losing her mind if she had to do it alone, but thankfully Santana was with her every step of the way.
Just like Quinn, Santana had to get used to the chair again--lifting Quinn into the wheelchair and onto the bed and back again. Lifting Quinn into the car and handling the chair. It all needed to be routine to them. Thankfully it all came back rather quickly.
It was a strange feeling to be lifted by Santana again, and it hurt. The fresh (old) scars hurt like hell. Quinn tried not to cry out in pain, but Santana realized it anyways and grimaced.
“I hate this, Q. I already hate this case and what it is doing to you and it hasn’t even really started.”
Quinn breathed through the pain; she had been in worse pain a few times in her life already. “It will get better San, it’s because the scars are still fresh.”
“I know that. And it’s not what I was talking about and you know it.”
Quinn did know what Santana meant. She meant the dark place she had gone to after the accident. The doctors had told her that her chances of walking again were slim at best. Her body had been painted with ugly red scars. Everything hurt, even her legs, which she couldn’t actually feel. Phantom pain the doctors called it. She had lost her will to live then. She thought that she had lost everything. She’d lost her family due to the pregnancy. She had given up her daughter so that Beth could have a good life. And now she had lost her legs, and everything she loved was taken from her. Cheerleading, running, dancing and her beauty…everything she had worked so hard for had been taken from her in an instant.
It had been Santana who saved her. She had been a constant at her side, supporting her, challenging her, but never pitying her. Santana told her that she was still beautiful, still loveable. Then she showed her. They had made love and Santana had worshiped Quinn’s body. With tears streaming down her face, she had begged Quinn not to leave her, to come back to her. And then Quinn had promised. It was the first real step forward in her recovery.
They had dated for a while, not that anything really changed, except they now had mind blowing sex. After a few months, by mutual understanding, they stopped having sex with each other and went back to simply being friends. Even though the romantic part of their relationship hadn’t worked out, they had no regrets.
Shortly after they were back to being just friends, Quinn had started to feel her legs again, and by the end of senior year she could walk across the stage to get her diploma. Sure, she still needed a cane, but she could walk. Santana’s smile at witnessing her progress rivaled the sun in it’s brilliance.
By the time college started, Quinn was able to walk most of the time without a cane. Slowly, but surely, she was making progress. At the end of the first semester she was able to run half a mile and attended a dance class again. Near the end of her first year of college she was almost back to her old self. The only reminder being the scars that hurt when the weather changed. It had taken two years and a lot of hard, disciplined work but she made it.
And now she was drifting towards that dark place again.
“Quinn, you promised. Remember? It still does count. Don’t leave me again.” Santana pleaded.
“I’m sorry, San. It’s just … I have to adjust, okay? It will take a little time, but I won’t go back there. I promise. I will be okay. But, can you stay with me tonight?”
Santana lifted her eyebrows. “Quinn, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“No San, not like that. I just… can you hold me. I can’t be alone tonight.”
“Of course I can. I will always be here for you, for whatever you need.”