Inscription [02/06]
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Quinn/Rachel
Rating: PG13, warnings for femslash, language and probably excessive fluff
Length: 5,500/28,000 words
Spoilers: Season 01
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee; this is purely for my own personal enjoyment
Summary: Every week, she notices there's a new word inked on Quinn's skin. Rachel certainly hadn't expected junior year to turn out like this, just chock-full of surprises, mostly revolving around a certain blonde, drawing them slowly together.
A/N: I was agonizing for a long, long time about what word to use for this chapter. Hahaha. I thought this story would just be a one-shot consisting of short vignettes for every word Quinn uses, but I ended up having way too much fun writing Sue, and badass!Quinn in the first part. And this part turned out even longer than that. There should be around three or four more chapters after this, and hopefully it’ll be done by the time the second season starts.
Chapter 02
She is, once more, not pleased with how her week is starting. Literature began ten minutes ago, and the chair beside her is empty. Rachel finds herself disappointed. She is also annoyed at herself for being disappointed. So what if Quinn is absent today? It shouldn’t be such a big deal. It’s not like they’re close or anything (at least, not yet). And it’s not like she really wants to be (okay, now you’re lying to yourself). After the slushie-rescue incident, most of their interactions have been plain awkward. It makes her cringe just remembering the times they tried to strike up a conversation only to realize they had no idea what to say to each other.
But she is still disappointed when the day does not begin like it did for most of last week, with a certain blonde greeting her with smirk and a mumbled “Morning”.
Mostly though, she is worried.
In her head, she’s running through all the possible reasons why Quinn isn’t here. She gives herself a mental slap somewhere around “terminal cancer”.
Twelve minutes after Literature has started, Quinn arrives.
Well, more like she slams the door open, glares at Ms. Thompson (who immediately swallows any comment she may have had on Quinn’s lack of punctuality), and storms over to her seat.
Cutting off the ensuing murmurs, the teacher resumes class right away.
Rachel, however, is not as quick to recover. She stays frozen, staring at the girl beside her, torn between reaching out and backing off. She wants to help, but that expression, that stance and that uniform - it all brings many a memory to the forefront of Rachel’s mind, none of which end well for her (despite that, she can’t help but marvel at how just about any emotion looks spectacular on Quinn - rage, sorrow, joy). Still, no matter how much she struggles with it, she just can’t let it go.
So she takes a minute to choose her words very carefully, and takes a deep breath. “Quinn…?”
The Cheerio says nothing, but Rachel sees her shoulders tense just a bit more.
“I just want you to know that, if you need anything… I’m here.”
Quinn glances at her from the corner of her eye. Rachel smiles at her nervously, but it falls when the blonde simply looks away again. The brunette sighs.
Several minutes later, Rachel is getting more and more frustrated at her inability to concentrate on The Odyssey. She stops writing and rubs at her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. There are the beginnings of a headache in her temples.
She hears Quinn shift beside her, and feels a knee bump hers lightly. She opens her eyes again to find the girl now slumped over her desk, chin resting on her crossed arms, and staring blankly ahead. The cheerleader looks bored, for the most part, but by now the Rachel knows a thing or two about forced nonchalance.
A diminutive smile crosses the brunette’s lips, and she’s has no further problems concentrating from that point on. The warmth of Quinn’s skin against hers under the table is only minimally distracting.
+ + + + +
Rachel ends up having a free sixth period when their chemistry teacher has to bail for a family emergency. She shrugs and makes up her mind to practice the new solo Mr. Schue assigned her in their last Glee meeting.
The corridor is empty, so she hears the yelling and the crashing sounds coming from the choir room even from a distance. She picks up the pace. They better not have damaged the piano.
All the noise comes to an abrupt halt just as she’s about to enter the room. The door has been left slightly ajar, and she splays one hand against it and pushes lightly.
The sight that greets her is this: Brittany with her arms around Quinn, the taller one pressing the shorter blonde’s face into her shoulder; Santana standing off but close-by to the side with her arms crossed; several displaced chairs lying on their side all around the room.
Quinn is actually struggling to get out of Brittany’s hold, but the blue-eyed girl doesn’t budge an inch.
“Fabray. Give it up.”
At Santana’s words, Quinn stops squirming. A moment later, she burrows further into Brittany’s shoulder, and her hands dig into her captor’s sides instead of pushing at them. Quinn’s fingers eventually turn white, and Rachel sees Brittany actually wince (but otherwise remain completely motionless).
Rachel doesn’t know how long it is, but after some time Quinn’s shoulders sag and her arms fall limply to her sides; Brittany eases up on her embrace.
“Okay, now, are you going to tell me whose ass I need to kick yet or what? Because otherwise I’m just going to go out there and start throwing random people into dumpsters. I’m bound to hurt the right one sooner or later.”
The head cheerleader chuckles lowly and turns to face Santana. And that is when she notices Rachel standing in the entryway.
Crap. “I- uh-”
“What are doing here?” the words rush out as a harsh whisper from Quinn’s mouth. There’s an odd mix of surprise, fear, and anger in it.
“I just- there was sixth- and my solo- then the piano-”
Santana takes a step towards her, full of menace. “Shut up. Get out.”
“But, I-”
“Rachel,” Quinn interrupts, “please.”
The brunette takes in a shaky breath, glances at all three girls again briefly (Santana glaring, Brittany smiling sadly, Quinn squeezing her eyes shut), and then retreats, softly pulling the door closed after her.
It is so totally unfair that the first time Quinn calls her by her name, it had to be like that.
+ + + + +
Brittany approaches her at the end of the day, leaning against the locker beside hers as Rachel shoves the books she needs to take home into her bag.
She ignores the cheerleader. She realizes that she is being irrationally upset that Quinn would confide in them and not her, because they’ve been her best friends for a decade and she’s been cordial with the blonde a grand total of seven days. Intellectually, she understands that it makes no sense at all.
But that does nothing to balm the sting.
She really doesn’t understand why she wants to be Quinn’s friend so badly. I mean, she thinks, of all people! But maybe that’s it. The glee kids are generous in providing her with companionship now. But still, no one has ever let her prove that she could be a good friend, a great friend, if given half the chance; and maybe if she could just convince the one person who hated her the most (or at least, used to) to do just that, she could prove it once and for all.
Or maybe she’s just really, really grateful for the slushie-rescue thing?
Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Quinn won’t let her in.
“When she’s ready, she’ll come to you.”
Rachel rounds on Brittany with wide eyes. The blonde flashes a grin and pats her on the head. Then, in a twirl of red, white and black, she’s gone.
And I was under the impression that I was the psychic here.
Sighing, glee’s female lead hoists her backpack onto her shoulders and makes her way to the parking lot. She replays Brittany’s words in her mind as she walks.
But what if she’s never ready?
+ + + + +
“…so if you need to contact us-”
“The number is on the refrigerator.”
“Right, and for food-”
“I promise not to attempt anything outside of the dozen recipes we have mutually agreed upon as safe.”
“And in the event of an earthquake-”
“I will lie down beside a wall. We’ve been over this twenty-two times, Daddy.”
Jeremiah Berry shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Maybe I should just stay-”
“Daddy. You haven’t had a vacation alone with Dad since before I was born. Your flight, which you have already paid for in full and for which you will not be reimbursed, leaves in four hours. You are getting on that plane, and by the time you get to that lovely hotel room in Hawaii which you have had booked for months, Dad’s business conference will be over and you will have a great time celebrating your anniversary. Which I will hear absolutely nothing about when you see me again on Sunday night since I’m sure it will involve copious amounts of making love.”
Her father points a finger at her nose. “I think I should be concerned about how you can say that with a straight face.”
“It is how you raised me. I am not to blame.”
Looking over his shoulder at the taxi waiting in front of their driveway, the man tries one last time. “Are you sure-”
“Daddy!”
“Alright, alright already! Goodness, my own daughter, so eager to get rid of me.”
“Goodbye Daddy.”
“Bye kiddo.”
Rachel waves as the cab drives away, watches until it turns out of sight around the block, and then pads back into the house. At sixteen, her parents finally trust her enough to have the whole house to herself for more than a whole weekend. This should be fun, right?
+ + + + +
Oh. My. God. I am so bored.
She glances at the clock beside her bed. It reads 4:23. Her Daddy left just under an hour ago. She was beginning to think she might not survive till Sunday after all, and it was only Wednesday for crying out loud!
But she didn’t feel like engaging in any of her usual pastimes. She had popped a movie into the DVD player, only to turn it off after the first eight minutes. She picked up a book she was in the middle of finishing, only to give up before she even had to turn the page. She had sifted through her email and meandered around online for a bit, but found nothing to hold her interest. She had fixed herself a snack. That left her with her iPod, but even music wasn’t cutting it like it should. What was wrong with her?
Normally, she would be doing homework right about now, but today she actually had none to do. That almost never happened. It was close to a miracle, and she should be overjoyed. Instead, she wishes it wasn’t case, just so she would have something to force herself to be occupied with.
Because otherwise, her thoughts would be occupied by a certain Fabray.
After the events of Monday, Rachel had resolved to distance herself from the blonde. She came to the conclusion that she was just setting herself up to get hurt. Who was she kidding, thinking she could be Quinn’s friend? The girl was Quinn Fabray, and she was Rachel Berry. She would be getting her hopes up for nothing; in the end she would just be crushed by the disappointment. There was also the consideration that, even though she appeared to have turned over a new leaf, so to speak, with regards to her demeanor towards Rachel (case in point: slushie-rescue), Quinn’s attitude could easily revert back to what it once was, scathing remarks and public humiliation and all. Quinn’s full-on bitch mode was still very much alive, granted it had not been directed at her lately (mostly at stupid jocks and incompetent freshmen). But was there really anything keeping it that way? In fact, Rachel had half-expected to face some unpleasant consequences come Tuesday for having stumbled onto, albeit inadvertently, the scene in choir room.
So, yes, distance.
But any and all resolve she had was completely shattered when she came into Literature the next day and found Quinn applying the finishing touches to a new word embellishing her wrist.
Forgiveness.
Rachel had planned not to sit next to the blonde, even if it meant sitting in the back, but she immediately (and rather unceremoniously) dropped down into her regular seat beside the cheerleader on the sight of it. She completely blames the pretty handwriting.
Quinn looks up, giving her one of her patented eyebrow raises. “Morning.”
There’s that infernal smirk too.
“Good morning!” It was an automatic response. She was just being courteous. Except, it had come out way more cheerful than she had intended. Also, she couldn’t stop staring at the word.
And Quinn looks amused.
“Doesn’t your coach have a policy against tattoos or something to that effect?” she says to cover.
The blonde laughs. “Well, it’s not a real tattoo. But you’re right.” She then digs into her pocket and brings out a white wristband, which she slips on, effectively hiding the markings. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Quinn’s eyes glint with mischief, and the only thing Rachel can do is grin back like a dork and think “I am in SO much trouble”.
Which brings her to now. Rachel sighs at the ceiling. She hasn’t been able to get Quinn out of her head ever since. She’s pretty sure it’s unhealthy. It also frustrates her to no end, but she can’t help it. Rachel possesses a natural curiosity and a flair for the dramatic. The Cheerio happens to appeal to both.
With another sigh and another glace at the clock (it’s only been four minutes since she last checked), she decides that she needs some fresh air and rolls out of bed. Moving to her closet, she picks out whatever’s within easy reach, which happens to be a gray collared shirt, beige shorts, and her white trainers. She’s out the door as fast as her legs can take her.
+ + + + +
The trail through the park has hardly changed. It’s like stepping into a pocket of space where the winds of time do not blow. So even if she hasn’t been here in ages, it’s all familiar and comforting. It’s not a very popular spot either (it’s a little too out of the way for most of Lima, small town though it is, but it’s near her place) and the quiet allows her to leave the complications of the real world behind. She remembers what it was like to be a little girl, carefree and naïve, and slips back easily into the feeling. It’s her own little Never Neverland.
Here, she can be aimless. Outside, everything she does is goal-oriented, ambition-driven. But in this place, she can just wander around with no purpose, no destination. And that’s exactly what she’s doing.
Out of the blue, there’s a rustling noise and a blur of yellow bursts out of the bushes ahead. She pauses mid-step, wide eyes observing a rather sizeable golden retriever shake the leaves out of its fur. Eventually, she discerns that it does not appear to be hostile in nature when it looks up at her and sits back on its haunches, a pink tongue lolling out its mouth.
She approaches cautiously. The dog doesn’t move, simply watches her. Rachel extends her hand towards its snout when she gets close enough and it gives her skin a warm, wet lick. She smiles and squats down. “Good…” she ducks her head a bit, “…boy. Good boy. Are you lost?”
The retriever doesn’t respond, obviously. It doesn’t have a collar either. But it’s very healthy looking and well-kept (its fur was delightfully soft and smooth), so it was most likely not a stray. Rachel stands again and swivels her head around a few times, trying to locate its owner.
“Rachel? Is that you?”
She turns towards the source of the voice. “Kurt?”
The boy steps out further from behind the trees. “The one and only. What are you doing here? I didn’t know you had a dog.”
Rachel shakes her head. “I don’t.” And it obviously wasn’t his either. “I sort of… found him. Or he found me.”
“Oh.” He peers closer at the animal. Suddenly his eyes light up with recognition. “Oh! Of course. Apollo!”
The dog’s tail wags enthusiastically and it moves towards him. He lets out a laugh and ruffles the fur on top its head.
Rachel feels relief flow through her. “You know each other. I assume you’re acquainted with his owner as well?”
“I sure am.” He grins at her. “What say you help me find them?”
The diva blinks and shrugs. “Alright. As of the moment, I am free of any obli-”
“Right, let’s go then!” he says, throwing an arm around her shoulders and ushering her forward.
She stumbles for a second, but manages to right herself quickly. “Wait, how do-”
“Just follow me.”
It becomes obvious that Kurt knows exactly where he’s going, and he doesn’t really need any help finding this person, whoever they are. But in a sense, Kurt is actually asking her to hang out with him (usually the only ones who ever offer are Tina and Finn), and she’s got nothing to lose. So she makes up her mind to ‘chill out’ and follow obediently. The golden retriever plods along beside them.
After walking together in companionable silence for a while, they veer off into the trees and come to stand next to a brook a little ways off the path. There’s a small waterfall (barely any taller than Rachel herself) that flows into a calm area of water, creating a small pool, before it tapers off again through the forest in the opposite direction.
Kurt is looking around thoughtfully, as if searching for something.
“What is it?”
“I don’t see-”
Suddenly, their canine companion lets out a bark and promptly dives into a huge pile of dried leaves. They hear a yelp (a decidedly happy one) and then there’s red, orange and brown flying everywhere and Quinn rolls into view, wrestling playfully with Apollo.
“Naughty boy! What have I said about disturbing mommy’s nappy time?” She pushes the dog onto its back and rubs his stomach vigorously, making his leg kick helplessly into the air. “Suffer the wrath of the Fabray Belly Attack!”
A laugh bubbles out of Rachel’s throat. The blonde’s head immediately snaps up and startled hazel eyes lock with hers.
“Berry?”
The brunette smiles a little sheepishly. “Hi.”
“I bumped into her on the way over.” Kurt explains with an amused grin. He advances and Rachel follows suit. “And she bumped into Apollo. Or something like that.”
Quinn recovers from her deer-caught-in-headlights moment, smiling at them as they settle into a circle on the ground. “I see.”
Rachel takes in her appearance. She’s traded in her Cheerio’s attire for casual clothes. Black cargo pants with plain black ankle-high Chucks. There are grass stains on her blue tank top and mud streaks across her arms. And she doesn’t seem to mind.
The cheerleader picks up a stick, waves it in front of the retriever and then throws it off into the distance. Apollo dashes after it. “I’m guessing Mom dropped by your place again and mentioned I’d be here?”
Kurt nods. Rachel looks a little confused and he notices, so he addresses her. “Her mom and my dad are, like, best buddies now.”
“Oh. How did that happen?”
“Stuff happened over the summer,” Quinn supplies, leaning back and propping herself up on her hands. “Basically, after my mom kicked my dad out, she wanted to prove to herself that she could be an independent woman. She started off by getting Kurt’s dad to pimp our rides.”
“The Fabrays currently own the fastest sedan in Lima.” the boy says proudly.
“Wow.”
“Yeah. So they totally bonded over that.” Apollo is back, pushing the stick into Quinn’s hand. She acquiesces and throws it for him once more. “And then there’s the whole ‘our-kids-are-both-gay’ thing.”
Kurt sniggers. It takes a second to register, then Rachel’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “What?!”
Quinn grins. “A lot of stuff happened over the summer.”
“Specifically, she traumatized her mother in Boston by getting caught naked in the backseat of their newly revamped car with one of her sister’s classmates.”
“Hey. I was only half-naked. But, oh man, that car was a dream to drive on the interstate.”
Rachel is still gaping. “…wow.”
Quinn smirks. “I think we broke her.”
“I think she’s drooling.”
The brunette snaps her jaw shut at that. “I- I was not!” Curse her overactive imagination.
The other two chuckle at her indignant tone. Fortunately for Rachel, the dog comes around again, successfully drawing attention away from her. Apollo drops his stick beside his mistress and moves in to lick her face enthusiastically. She giggles and scratches behind his ear.
Kurt makes a face. “Remind me not to kiss you goodbye later.”
Hazel eyes flash. “Oh, Hummel…” Quinn sing-songs, crawling towards him.
“No. No no no no no! You stay away from me!” he exclaims, trying to scramble away from her. But Quinn is faster. In a flash, she’s in his lap, arms around his neck, rubbing her cheek against his. Rachel has her hands over her mouth, but it does nothing at all to muffle her mirth. Kurt flails and screeches. “Quinn! Stop it! Quiiinnnn! I can feel my glamour evaporating already!”
The blonde relents, laughing. He shoves her away and stands with a huff. “I hate you, Fabray.”
Both girls are still cracking up and he rolls his eyes. He then proceeds to take off his t-shirt, balls it up and hurls it at the cheerleader. It smacks feebly against her chest.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Rachel wheezes in between fits of giggles.
“If he says 'a lap dance', I think I'll choke.” Quinn adds.
“I’m going to wash up.” He’s down to his boxers. Spinning on his heel with his nose in the air, he makes his way to the brook. Apollo trails behind him. They enter the water together.
After watching them splash around for a while, Rachel sweeps her gaze over their surroundings. She’s always loved the colors of autumn. “This is a really nice spot.”
Quinn flops onto her back, closing her eyes. “It is.”
“I used to frequent this park a lot when I was a child. But I never knew this place existed.”
“I kinda stumbled on it by accident. Wandered off the trail one day and here I was.”
Rachel chuckles. “Well. I suppose there are some advantages to straying from the set path from time to time after all, if you get to discover something as beautiful as this.”
The blonde cracks an eye open and the corners of her lips quirk up. “Yeah. There definitely are.”
It’s a loaded moment. They can both tell. Neither speaks for a while, just soaking it in.
Eventually though, it passes. “So who else knows about this place?” the brunette inquires curiously.
“Hmm… Santana, Brittany. Kurt has brought Mercedes here too. And now there’s you.”
“What about Finn and Puck?”
Quinn shakes her head. “No boys allowed. Except that one there,” She waves her hand in Kurt’s direction. “I’m convinced his penis is entirely an accident though.” Rachel laughs loudly, nodding in agreement. The cheerleader grins. “You could drag Tina over here with us sometime. You two are close, right?”
The diva shrugs. “Kinda.” When Quinn raises an eyebrow, she carries on, “I get along with her and, by association, Artie very well. My relations with them are the most amicable out everyone in Glee. Although none of you are truly hostile towards me any longer. Finn and Noah are always indulgent and protective of me. Mike and Matt are actually pretty sweet to me. Santana and Brittany are… well, they’re Santana and Brittany. You, Kurt and Mercedes seem to be more or less neutral towards me, although we do have our moments like right no-”
“Berry.” the cheerleader warns without threat. “Let’s hear your point sometime before it next year, shall we?”
“I don’t have a best friend.” Rachel says simply. “You all have someone. Nobody is that close to me.” There’s a beat of silence, and then she adds, quietly, “I suppose nobody really wants to be.”
“That’s not true.”
The brunette drops her gaze to the ground. Images of the events in the choir room flash in her mind. “Isn’t it?”
Quinn sits up, slowly. Rachel can feel the weight of her stare. “Is this about what happened on Monday?”
Never let it be said that Quinn Fabray was slow on the uptake.
The diva doesn’t respond. She hears the blonde sigh. “I ran into Russell- my father-” she spits out, “on Sunday.”
Rachel looks up. Quinn’s eyes are glazed over, looking somewhere over Rachel’s shoulder. “It was in the afternoon, at the mall. I was heading home. And I saw him there, and he was with… his girlfriend.” She sucks in a breath through her teeth. “He had the nerve to ask how I was, how Mom was. I snapped at him. Then that whore insulted my mom, like it was her own fault that Russell cheated on her. And then I was shouting, and they were shouting, and it was all just so horrible. But that wasn’t the worst of it.”
The blonde meets Rachel’s gaze. “The worst part was when he said that I had no right to judge him, when I had done exactly the same thing he had done.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It upset me so much because he was right. I cheated on the person I was committed to.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Then that bitch of a slut made some comment about how at least she wasn’t stupid enough to get knocked up. Then she insulted Mom again. Then I kinda mauled her.”
“What?!”
Quinn grins sheepishly. “Well, I punched her in the face. She may or may not also have a tiny bald spot on the side of her head now too.”
Sue Slyvester’s voice echoes in Rachel’s mind: lioness. “Quinn! What if they press charges? Okay, don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. I’m sure my Dad knows someone-“
“Berry.”
“…Sorry. Are- are you okay?”
“Sure. I know how to throw a punch without hurting my hand. She didn’t put up much of a fight either and I think Russell was too shocked to do anything. I stormed off before he could. I would’ve given you a run for your money with that walk out.”
“While it’s good to know that you are physically unharmed, that is not exactly what I meant.”
The cheerleader chuckles, “I know. I was stalling.”
Rachel slaps her knee.
“Well… as you know, I was stewing in my anger for a while.” She gets a nod. “It really pissed me off, the thought that I was just like him.”
“You’re not.”
Quinn gives her a small smile. “I appreciate that. And part of me knows that’s true, and that you’re not just patronizing me. And that people who know me would say the same thing. But can you understand that that’s not enough?” Another nod. “So I thought about it. What I could do that would set me apart from him.”
The diva’s eyes slide to Quinn’s left wrist. Quinn’s smile grows.
Never let it be said that Rachel Berry was unintelligent either.
“He kicked me out. He never contacted me again. He still won’t let me live it down.” The blonde takes another deep breath. “But I will. I’m going to learn to forgive myself for screwing up. And then I’m going to forgive him. And that will be the difference between the two of us.”
Rachel thinks she must be looking at the cheerleader with something that looks a lot like awe. The blonde really seemed to be having that effect on her a lot recently.
And apparently she wasn’t done yet, because she leans forward a little and places her hand over Rachel’s on her lap. There’s one of the most earnest looks the brunette’s ever seen in those hazel eyes. “And Rachel. It’s gonna take a while to reach that point, but when I do get there, I plan to start the process of asking for and earning your forgiveness.”
They remain still like that for a minute, until Quinn pulls back slightly. Suddenly a warm body collides into her and she finds herself with an armful of Rachel Berry. After getting over the initial stun, she tentatively wraps her arms around the brunette’s back to return the hug. Rachel squeezes even harder.
So hard, in fact, that Quinn eventually has to gasp out, “Air!”
Rachel immediately scrambles off of her. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me, I just-”
“Berry.”
The diva’s jaw clicks shut.
“Wow, that is a useful trick.”
Quinn gets another slap on the knee. But they’re both chuckling.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away on Monday. It’s just that… I was angry and I didn’t want to risk being around you too much in case I did anything stupid. Santana and Brittany are used to seeing me like that; they know how to handle the worst of my bitchiness. Also, I was feeling kinda… vulnerable, and… Fabrays have a bit of a pride issue.”
Rachel took the time to absorb this information. Quinn had actually been trying to protect her. And, taking into consideration the whole conversation they just had and the fact that she had opened up to her, also actually wanted to be her friend.
She had to fight the urge to hug the girl again. Instead, she took a deep breath and said, “Well. I think you’re not off to a bad start. We’ll work more on those pride issues, won’t we?”
Quinn flashes two rows of white teeth, “Yeah.”
Without warning, Apollo materializes beside them again. He nudges Rachel’s hand with his nose. She smiles and scratches behind his ear, mimicking Quinn’s earlier actions.
“He likes you.” the blonde declares.
“I like him too. Even if right now he’s kinda wet and smelly.”
The cheerleader laughs, and then lets out a sharp whistle. The dog instantly turns away from Rachel and goes to lie down next to his mistress, placing his head in her lap. Quinn smoothes down the fur that’s disheveled from shaking himself dry.
“Apollo is a good name. God of light and of the sun.”
“Really? I just named him that coz I saw it in a caption of this picture of a painting of this blonde guy I thought was cute.”
Rachel looks at her incredulously.
“It’s called humor, Berry.”
The brunette shakes her head. This is going to take some getting used to. “Right. He’s also the patron of music.”
Quinn smiles, and maybe it’s her imagination but Rachel thinks it might actually be bordering on affectionate, “I know, Berry.”
“When did you get him? How old is he?”
“About six months, I think. My cousin bought him as a puppy early this year. But he had to leave for college last month, so we adopted him.”
“Six months? He’s already huge. So you renamed him. What was his old name?”
The blonde winces. “Wendy.”
“Are you serious?!”
“My cousin has a little sister who kept insisting the dog was female. She would cry. They gave into her. She’s also kinda scared of the dog, which is also why the family didn’t keep him.”
“Well, thank god you were there to rescue him.”
Quinn makes a noise of assent. “He was obviously a very smart dog. And I’ve always wanted a pet. But, well, Russell…”
The diva nods when Quinn trails off. “Do you normally allow your pets to roam around so freely though?” she scolds lightly, trying to steer the conversation away from anything heavy. “What if he gets lost? Or if he hurts someone?”
The blonde’s expression turns serious. “I don’t just let him wander off. I send him away with strict instructions to fetch me a pretty girl.”
Rachel gapes at her until she notices the slight twitch in Quinn’s jaw. “You’re pulling my leg again.”
Quinn chortles. Rachel crosses her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe that I actually considered for a second there that you had actually managed to train him to do that.”
“Well,” Quinn drawls, “He kinda pulled it off last time, didn’t he?”
Rachel’s cheeks turn crimson.
The cheerleader laughs again, and Rachel realizes that recently she doesn’t terribly mind anymore when it’s at her expense. But she does mind just a little, tiny bit. “Jerk.”
Quinn winks.
“C’mon, Berry. Let’s join Kurt for a swim. I feel like getting a little wet and wild now.”
Rachel just knows the blonde meant for that to sound the way it did, and that its going to take a while to get her @#!$*%^& imagination out of overdrive.
+ + + + +
Rachel manages to stay very not bored for the rest of the week hanging out with Quinn (and some of the other glee kids too, but mostly Quinn).
And the next Monday, when the blonde raises her hand and waves at her in greeting, she spies the word Humility. Quinn notices that she notices.
“I’m working on those pride issues.”
Next Chapter
Pairing: Quinn/Rachel
Rating: PG13, warnings for femslash, language and probably excessive fluff
Length: 5,500/28,000 words
Spoilers: Season 01
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee; this is purely for my own personal enjoyment
Summary: Every week, she notices there's a new word inked on Quinn's skin. Rachel certainly hadn't expected junior year to turn out like this, just chock-full of surprises, mostly revolving around a certain blonde, drawing them slowly together.
A/N: I was agonizing for a long, long time about what word to use for this chapter. Hahaha. I thought this story would just be a one-shot consisting of short vignettes for every word Quinn uses, but I ended up having way too much fun writing Sue, and badass!Quinn in the first part. And this part turned out even longer than that. There should be around three or four more chapters after this, and hopefully it’ll be done by the time the second season starts.
Chapter 02
She is, once more, not pleased with how her week is starting. Literature began ten minutes ago, and the chair beside her is empty. Rachel finds herself disappointed. She is also annoyed at herself for being disappointed. So what if Quinn is absent today? It shouldn’t be such a big deal. It’s not like they’re close or anything (at least, not yet). And it’s not like she really wants to be (okay, now you’re lying to yourself). After the slushie-rescue incident, most of their interactions have been plain awkward. It makes her cringe just remembering the times they tried to strike up a conversation only to realize they had no idea what to say to each other.
But she is still disappointed when the day does not begin like it did for most of last week, with a certain blonde greeting her with smirk and a mumbled “Morning”.
Mostly though, she is worried.
In her head, she’s running through all the possible reasons why Quinn isn’t here. She gives herself a mental slap somewhere around “terminal cancer”.
Twelve minutes after Literature has started, Quinn arrives.
Well, more like she slams the door open, glares at Ms. Thompson (who immediately swallows any comment she may have had on Quinn’s lack of punctuality), and storms over to her seat.
Cutting off the ensuing murmurs, the teacher resumes class right away.
Rachel, however, is not as quick to recover. She stays frozen, staring at the girl beside her, torn between reaching out and backing off. She wants to help, but that expression, that stance and that uniform - it all brings many a memory to the forefront of Rachel’s mind, none of which end well for her (despite that, she can’t help but marvel at how just about any emotion looks spectacular on Quinn - rage, sorrow, joy). Still, no matter how much she struggles with it, she just can’t let it go.
So she takes a minute to choose her words very carefully, and takes a deep breath. “Quinn…?”
The Cheerio says nothing, but Rachel sees her shoulders tense just a bit more.
“I just want you to know that, if you need anything… I’m here.”
Quinn glances at her from the corner of her eye. Rachel smiles at her nervously, but it falls when the blonde simply looks away again. The brunette sighs.
Several minutes later, Rachel is getting more and more frustrated at her inability to concentrate on The Odyssey. She stops writing and rubs at her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. There are the beginnings of a headache in her temples.
She hears Quinn shift beside her, and feels a knee bump hers lightly. She opens her eyes again to find the girl now slumped over her desk, chin resting on her crossed arms, and staring blankly ahead. The cheerleader looks bored, for the most part, but by now the Rachel knows a thing or two about forced nonchalance.
A diminutive smile crosses the brunette’s lips, and she’s has no further problems concentrating from that point on. The warmth of Quinn’s skin against hers under the table is only minimally distracting.
+ + + + +
Rachel ends up having a free sixth period when their chemistry teacher has to bail for a family emergency. She shrugs and makes up her mind to practice the new solo Mr. Schue assigned her in their last Glee meeting.
The corridor is empty, so she hears the yelling and the crashing sounds coming from the choir room even from a distance. She picks up the pace. They better not have damaged the piano.
All the noise comes to an abrupt halt just as she’s about to enter the room. The door has been left slightly ajar, and she splays one hand against it and pushes lightly.
The sight that greets her is this: Brittany with her arms around Quinn, the taller one pressing the shorter blonde’s face into her shoulder; Santana standing off but close-by to the side with her arms crossed; several displaced chairs lying on their side all around the room.
Quinn is actually struggling to get out of Brittany’s hold, but the blue-eyed girl doesn’t budge an inch.
“Fabray. Give it up.”
At Santana’s words, Quinn stops squirming. A moment later, she burrows further into Brittany’s shoulder, and her hands dig into her captor’s sides instead of pushing at them. Quinn’s fingers eventually turn white, and Rachel sees Brittany actually wince (but otherwise remain completely motionless).
Rachel doesn’t know how long it is, but after some time Quinn’s shoulders sag and her arms fall limply to her sides; Brittany eases up on her embrace.
“Okay, now, are you going to tell me whose ass I need to kick yet or what? Because otherwise I’m just going to go out there and start throwing random people into dumpsters. I’m bound to hurt the right one sooner or later.”
The head cheerleader chuckles lowly and turns to face Santana. And that is when she notices Rachel standing in the entryway.
Crap. “I- uh-”
“What are doing here?” the words rush out as a harsh whisper from Quinn’s mouth. There’s an odd mix of surprise, fear, and anger in it.
“I just- there was sixth- and my solo- then the piano-”
Santana takes a step towards her, full of menace. “Shut up. Get out.”
“But, I-”
“Rachel,” Quinn interrupts, “please.”
The brunette takes in a shaky breath, glances at all three girls again briefly (Santana glaring, Brittany smiling sadly, Quinn squeezing her eyes shut), and then retreats, softly pulling the door closed after her.
It is so totally unfair that the first time Quinn calls her by her name, it had to be like that.
+ + + + +
Brittany approaches her at the end of the day, leaning against the locker beside hers as Rachel shoves the books she needs to take home into her bag.
She ignores the cheerleader. She realizes that she is being irrationally upset that Quinn would confide in them and not her, because they’ve been her best friends for a decade and she’s been cordial with the blonde a grand total of seven days. Intellectually, she understands that it makes no sense at all.
But that does nothing to balm the sting.
She really doesn’t understand why she wants to be Quinn’s friend so badly. I mean, she thinks, of all people! But maybe that’s it. The glee kids are generous in providing her with companionship now. But still, no one has ever let her prove that she could be a good friend, a great friend, if given half the chance; and maybe if she could just convince the one person who hated her the most (or at least, used to) to do just that, she could prove it once and for all.
Or maybe she’s just really, really grateful for the slushie-rescue thing?
Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Quinn won’t let her in.
“When she’s ready, she’ll come to you.”
Rachel rounds on Brittany with wide eyes. The blonde flashes a grin and pats her on the head. Then, in a twirl of red, white and black, she’s gone.
And I was under the impression that I was the psychic here.
Sighing, glee’s female lead hoists her backpack onto her shoulders and makes her way to the parking lot. She replays Brittany’s words in her mind as she walks.
But what if she’s never ready?
+ + + + +
“…so if you need to contact us-”
“The number is on the refrigerator.”
“Right, and for food-”
“I promise not to attempt anything outside of the dozen recipes we have mutually agreed upon as safe.”
“And in the event of an earthquake-”
“I will lie down beside a wall. We’ve been over this twenty-two times, Daddy.”
Jeremiah Berry shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Maybe I should just stay-”
“Daddy. You haven’t had a vacation alone with Dad since before I was born. Your flight, which you have already paid for in full and for which you will not be reimbursed, leaves in four hours. You are getting on that plane, and by the time you get to that lovely hotel room in Hawaii which you have had booked for months, Dad’s business conference will be over and you will have a great time celebrating your anniversary. Which I will hear absolutely nothing about when you see me again on Sunday night since I’m sure it will involve copious amounts of making love.”
Her father points a finger at her nose. “I think I should be concerned about how you can say that with a straight face.”
“It is how you raised me. I am not to blame.”
Looking over his shoulder at the taxi waiting in front of their driveway, the man tries one last time. “Are you sure-”
“Daddy!”
“Alright, alright already! Goodness, my own daughter, so eager to get rid of me.”
“Goodbye Daddy.”
“Bye kiddo.”
Rachel waves as the cab drives away, watches until it turns out of sight around the block, and then pads back into the house. At sixteen, her parents finally trust her enough to have the whole house to herself for more than a whole weekend. This should be fun, right?
+ + + + +
Oh. My. God. I am so bored.
She glances at the clock beside her bed. It reads 4:23. Her Daddy left just under an hour ago. She was beginning to think she might not survive till Sunday after all, and it was only Wednesday for crying out loud!
But she didn’t feel like engaging in any of her usual pastimes. She had popped a movie into the DVD player, only to turn it off after the first eight minutes. She picked up a book she was in the middle of finishing, only to give up before she even had to turn the page. She had sifted through her email and meandered around online for a bit, but found nothing to hold her interest. She had fixed herself a snack. That left her with her iPod, but even music wasn’t cutting it like it should. What was wrong with her?
Normally, she would be doing homework right about now, but today she actually had none to do. That almost never happened. It was close to a miracle, and she should be overjoyed. Instead, she wishes it wasn’t case, just so she would have something to force herself to be occupied with.
Because otherwise, her thoughts would be occupied by a certain Fabray.
After the events of Monday, Rachel had resolved to distance herself from the blonde. She came to the conclusion that she was just setting herself up to get hurt. Who was she kidding, thinking she could be Quinn’s friend? The girl was Quinn Fabray, and she was Rachel Berry. She would be getting her hopes up for nothing; in the end she would just be crushed by the disappointment. There was also the consideration that, even though she appeared to have turned over a new leaf, so to speak, with regards to her demeanor towards Rachel (case in point: slushie-rescue), Quinn’s attitude could easily revert back to what it once was, scathing remarks and public humiliation and all. Quinn’s full-on bitch mode was still very much alive, granted it had not been directed at her lately (mostly at stupid jocks and incompetent freshmen). But was there really anything keeping it that way? In fact, Rachel had half-expected to face some unpleasant consequences come Tuesday for having stumbled onto, albeit inadvertently, the scene in choir room.
So, yes, distance.
But any and all resolve she had was completely shattered when she came into Literature the next day and found Quinn applying the finishing touches to a new word embellishing her wrist.
Forgiveness.
Rachel had planned not to sit next to the blonde, even if it meant sitting in the back, but she immediately (and rather unceremoniously) dropped down into her regular seat beside the cheerleader on the sight of it. She completely blames the pretty handwriting.
Quinn looks up, giving her one of her patented eyebrow raises. “Morning.”
There’s that infernal smirk too.
“Good morning!” It was an automatic response. She was just being courteous. Except, it had come out way more cheerful than she had intended. Also, she couldn’t stop staring at the word.
And Quinn looks amused.
“Doesn’t your coach have a policy against tattoos or something to that effect?” she says to cover.
The blonde laughs. “Well, it’s not a real tattoo. But you’re right.” She then digs into her pocket and brings out a white wristband, which she slips on, effectively hiding the markings. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Quinn’s eyes glint with mischief, and the only thing Rachel can do is grin back like a dork and think “I am in SO much trouble”.
Which brings her to now. Rachel sighs at the ceiling. She hasn’t been able to get Quinn out of her head ever since. She’s pretty sure it’s unhealthy. It also frustrates her to no end, but she can’t help it. Rachel possesses a natural curiosity and a flair for the dramatic. The Cheerio happens to appeal to both.
With another sigh and another glace at the clock (it’s only been four minutes since she last checked), she decides that she needs some fresh air and rolls out of bed. Moving to her closet, she picks out whatever’s within easy reach, which happens to be a gray collared shirt, beige shorts, and her white trainers. She’s out the door as fast as her legs can take her.
+ + + + +
The trail through the park has hardly changed. It’s like stepping into a pocket of space where the winds of time do not blow. So even if she hasn’t been here in ages, it’s all familiar and comforting. It’s not a very popular spot either (it’s a little too out of the way for most of Lima, small town though it is, but it’s near her place) and the quiet allows her to leave the complications of the real world behind. She remembers what it was like to be a little girl, carefree and naïve, and slips back easily into the feeling. It’s her own little Never Neverland.
Here, she can be aimless. Outside, everything she does is goal-oriented, ambition-driven. But in this place, she can just wander around with no purpose, no destination. And that’s exactly what she’s doing.
Out of the blue, there’s a rustling noise and a blur of yellow bursts out of the bushes ahead. She pauses mid-step, wide eyes observing a rather sizeable golden retriever shake the leaves out of its fur. Eventually, she discerns that it does not appear to be hostile in nature when it looks up at her and sits back on its haunches, a pink tongue lolling out its mouth.
She approaches cautiously. The dog doesn’t move, simply watches her. Rachel extends her hand towards its snout when she gets close enough and it gives her skin a warm, wet lick. She smiles and squats down. “Good…” she ducks her head a bit, “…boy. Good boy. Are you lost?”
The retriever doesn’t respond, obviously. It doesn’t have a collar either. But it’s very healthy looking and well-kept (its fur was delightfully soft and smooth), so it was most likely not a stray. Rachel stands again and swivels her head around a few times, trying to locate its owner.
“Rachel? Is that you?”
She turns towards the source of the voice. “Kurt?”
The boy steps out further from behind the trees. “The one and only. What are you doing here? I didn’t know you had a dog.”
Rachel shakes her head. “I don’t.” And it obviously wasn’t his either. “I sort of… found him. Or he found me.”
“Oh.” He peers closer at the animal. Suddenly his eyes light up with recognition. “Oh! Of course. Apollo!”
The dog’s tail wags enthusiastically and it moves towards him. He lets out a laugh and ruffles the fur on top its head.
Rachel feels relief flow through her. “You know each other. I assume you’re acquainted with his owner as well?”
“I sure am.” He grins at her. “What say you help me find them?”
The diva blinks and shrugs. “Alright. As of the moment, I am free of any obli-”
“Right, let’s go then!” he says, throwing an arm around her shoulders and ushering her forward.
She stumbles for a second, but manages to right herself quickly. “Wait, how do-”
“Just follow me.”
It becomes obvious that Kurt knows exactly where he’s going, and he doesn’t really need any help finding this person, whoever they are. But in a sense, Kurt is actually asking her to hang out with him (usually the only ones who ever offer are Tina and Finn), and she’s got nothing to lose. So she makes up her mind to ‘chill out’ and follow obediently. The golden retriever plods along beside them.
After walking together in companionable silence for a while, they veer off into the trees and come to stand next to a brook a little ways off the path. There’s a small waterfall (barely any taller than Rachel herself) that flows into a calm area of water, creating a small pool, before it tapers off again through the forest in the opposite direction.
Kurt is looking around thoughtfully, as if searching for something.
“What is it?”
“I don’t see-”
Suddenly, their canine companion lets out a bark and promptly dives into a huge pile of dried leaves. They hear a yelp (a decidedly happy one) and then there’s red, orange and brown flying everywhere and Quinn rolls into view, wrestling playfully with Apollo.
“Naughty boy! What have I said about disturbing mommy’s nappy time?” She pushes the dog onto its back and rubs his stomach vigorously, making his leg kick helplessly into the air. “Suffer the wrath of the Fabray Belly Attack!”
A laugh bubbles out of Rachel’s throat. The blonde’s head immediately snaps up and startled hazel eyes lock with hers.
“Berry?”
The brunette smiles a little sheepishly. “Hi.”
“I bumped into her on the way over.” Kurt explains with an amused grin. He advances and Rachel follows suit. “And she bumped into Apollo. Or something like that.”
Quinn recovers from her deer-caught-in-headlights moment, smiling at them as they settle into a circle on the ground. “I see.”
Rachel takes in her appearance. She’s traded in her Cheerio’s attire for casual clothes. Black cargo pants with plain black ankle-high Chucks. There are grass stains on her blue tank top and mud streaks across her arms. And she doesn’t seem to mind.
The cheerleader picks up a stick, waves it in front of the retriever and then throws it off into the distance. Apollo dashes after it. “I’m guessing Mom dropped by your place again and mentioned I’d be here?”
Kurt nods. Rachel looks a little confused and he notices, so he addresses her. “Her mom and my dad are, like, best buddies now.”
“Oh. How did that happen?”
“Stuff happened over the summer,” Quinn supplies, leaning back and propping herself up on her hands. “Basically, after my mom kicked my dad out, she wanted to prove to herself that she could be an independent woman. She started off by getting Kurt’s dad to pimp our rides.”
“The Fabrays currently own the fastest sedan in Lima.” the boy says proudly.
“Wow.”
“Yeah. So they totally bonded over that.” Apollo is back, pushing the stick into Quinn’s hand. She acquiesces and throws it for him once more. “And then there’s the whole ‘our-kids-are-both-gay’ thing.”
Kurt sniggers. It takes a second to register, then Rachel’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “What?!”
Quinn grins. “A lot of stuff happened over the summer.”
“Specifically, she traumatized her mother in Boston by getting caught naked in the backseat of their newly revamped car with one of her sister’s classmates.”
“Hey. I was only half-naked. But, oh man, that car was a dream to drive on the interstate.”
Rachel is still gaping. “…wow.”
Quinn smirks. “I think we broke her.”
“I think she’s drooling.”
The brunette snaps her jaw shut at that. “I- I was not!” Curse her overactive imagination.
The other two chuckle at her indignant tone. Fortunately for Rachel, the dog comes around again, successfully drawing attention away from her. Apollo drops his stick beside his mistress and moves in to lick her face enthusiastically. She giggles and scratches behind his ear.
Kurt makes a face. “Remind me not to kiss you goodbye later.”
Hazel eyes flash. “Oh, Hummel…” Quinn sing-songs, crawling towards him.
“No. No no no no no! You stay away from me!” he exclaims, trying to scramble away from her. But Quinn is faster. In a flash, she’s in his lap, arms around his neck, rubbing her cheek against his. Rachel has her hands over her mouth, but it does nothing at all to muffle her mirth. Kurt flails and screeches. “Quinn! Stop it! Quiiinnnn! I can feel my glamour evaporating already!”
The blonde relents, laughing. He shoves her away and stands with a huff. “I hate you, Fabray.”
Both girls are still cracking up and he rolls his eyes. He then proceeds to take off his t-shirt, balls it up and hurls it at the cheerleader. It smacks feebly against her chest.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Rachel wheezes in between fits of giggles.
“If he says 'a lap dance', I think I'll choke.” Quinn adds.
“I’m going to wash up.” He’s down to his boxers. Spinning on his heel with his nose in the air, he makes his way to the brook. Apollo trails behind him. They enter the water together.
After watching them splash around for a while, Rachel sweeps her gaze over their surroundings. She’s always loved the colors of autumn. “This is a really nice spot.”
Quinn flops onto her back, closing her eyes. “It is.”
“I used to frequent this park a lot when I was a child. But I never knew this place existed.”
“I kinda stumbled on it by accident. Wandered off the trail one day and here I was.”
Rachel chuckles. “Well. I suppose there are some advantages to straying from the set path from time to time after all, if you get to discover something as beautiful as this.”
The blonde cracks an eye open and the corners of her lips quirk up. “Yeah. There definitely are.”
It’s a loaded moment. They can both tell. Neither speaks for a while, just soaking it in.
Eventually though, it passes. “So who else knows about this place?” the brunette inquires curiously.
“Hmm… Santana, Brittany. Kurt has brought Mercedes here too. And now there’s you.”
“What about Finn and Puck?”
Quinn shakes her head. “No boys allowed. Except that one there,” She waves her hand in Kurt’s direction. “I’m convinced his penis is entirely an accident though.” Rachel laughs loudly, nodding in agreement. The cheerleader grins. “You could drag Tina over here with us sometime. You two are close, right?”
The diva shrugs. “Kinda.” When Quinn raises an eyebrow, she carries on, “I get along with her and, by association, Artie very well. My relations with them are the most amicable out everyone in Glee. Although none of you are truly hostile towards me any longer. Finn and Noah are always indulgent and protective of me. Mike and Matt are actually pretty sweet to me. Santana and Brittany are… well, they’re Santana and Brittany. You, Kurt and Mercedes seem to be more or less neutral towards me, although we do have our moments like right no-”
“Berry.” the cheerleader warns without threat. “Let’s hear your point sometime before it next year, shall we?”
“I don’t have a best friend.” Rachel says simply. “You all have someone. Nobody is that close to me.” There’s a beat of silence, and then she adds, quietly, “I suppose nobody really wants to be.”
“That’s not true.”
The brunette drops her gaze to the ground. Images of the events in the choir room flash in her mind. “Isn’t it?”
Quinn sits up, slowly. Rachel can feel the weight of her stare. “Is this about what happened on Monday?”
Never let it be said that Quinn Fabray was slow on the uptake.
The diva doesn’t respond. She hears the blonde sigh. “I ran into Russell- my father-” she spits out, “on Sunday.”
Rachel looks up. Quinn’s eyes are glazed over, looking somewhere over Rachel’s shoulder. “It was in the afternoon, at the mall. I was heading home. And I saw him there, and he was with… his girlfriend.” She sucks in a breath through her teeth. “He had the nerve to ask how I was, how Mom was. I snapped at him. Then that whore insulted my mom, like it was her own fault that Russell cheated on her. And then I was shouting, and they were shouting, and it was all just so horrible. But that wasn’t the worst of it.”
The blonde meets Rachel’s gaze. “The worst part was when he said that I had no right to judge him, when I had done exactly the same thing he had done.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It upset me so much because he was right. I cheated on the person I was committed to.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Then that bitch of a slut made some comment about how at least she wasn’t stupid enough to get knocked up. Then she insulted Mom again. Then I kinda mauled her.”
“What?!”
Quinn grins sheepishly. “Well, I punched her in the face. She may or may not also have a tiny bald spot on the side of her head now too.”
Sue Slyvester’s voice echoes in Rachel’s mind: lioness. “Quinn! What if they press charges? Okay, don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. I’m sure my Dad knows someone-“
“Berry.”
“…Sorry. Are- are you okay?”
“Sure. I know how to throw a punch without hurting my hand. She didn’t put up much of a fight either and I think Russell was too shocked to do anything. I stormed off before he could. I would’ve given you a run for your money with that walk out.”
“While it’s good to know that you are physically unharmed, that is not exactly what I meant.”
The cheerleader chuckles, “I know. I was stalling.”
Rachel slaps her knee.
“Well… as you know, I was stewing in my anger for a while.” She gets a nod. “It really pissed me off, the thought that I was just like him.”
“You’re not.”
Quinn gives her a small smile. “I appreciate that. And part of me knows that’s true, and that you’re not just patronizing me. And that people who know me would say the same thing. But can you understand that that’s not enough?” Another nod. “So I thought about it. What I could do that would set me apart from him.”
The diva’s eyes slide to Quinn’s left wrist. Quinn’s smile grows.
Never let it be said that Rachel Berry was unintelligent either.
“He kicked me out. He never contacted me again. He still won’t let me live it down.” The blonde takes another deep breath. “But I will. I’m going to learn to forgive myself for screwing up. And then I’m going to forgive him. And that will be the difference between the two of us.”
Rachel thinks she must be looking at the cheerleader with something that looks a lot like awe. The blonde really seemed to be having that effect on her a lot recently.
And apparently she wasn’t done yet, because she leans forward a little and places her hand over Rachel’s on her lap. There’s one of the most earnest looks the brunette’s ever seen in those hazel eyes. “And Rachel. It’s gonna take a while to reach that point, but when I do get there, I plan to start the process of asking for and earning your forgiveness.”
They remain still like that for a minute, until Quinn pulls back slightly. Suddenly a warm body collides into her and she finds herself with an armful of Rachel Berry. After getting over the initial stun, she tentatively wraps her arms around the brunette’s back to return the hug. Rachel squeezes even harder.
So hard, in fact, that Quinn eventually has to gasp out, “Air!”
Rachel immediately scrambles off of her. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me, I just-”
“Berry.”
The diva’s jaw clicks shut.
“Wow, that is a useful trick.”
Quinn gets another slap on the knee. But they’re both chuckling.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away on Monday. It’s just that… I was angry and I didn’t want to risk being around you too much in case I did anything stupid. Santana and Brittany are used to seeing me like that; they know how to handle the worst of my bitchiness. Also, I was feeling kinda… vulnerable, and… Fabrays have a bit of a pride issue.”
Rachel took the time to absorb this information. Quinn had actually been trying to protect her. And, taking into consideration the whole conversation they just had and the fact that she had opened up to her, also actually wanted to be her friend.
She had to fight the urge to hug the girl again. Instead, she took a deep breath and said, “Well. I think you’re not off to a bad start. We’ll work more on those pride issues, won’t we?”
Quinn flashes two rows of white teeth, “Yeah.”
Without warning, Apollo materializes beside them again. He nudges Rachel’s hand with his nose. She smiles and scratches behind his ear, mimicking Quinn’s earlier actions.
“He likes you.” the blonde declares.
“I like him too. Even if right now he’s kinda wet and smelly.”
The cheerleader laughs, and then lets out a sharp whistle. The dog instantly turns away from Rachel and goes to lie down next to his mistress, placing his head in her lap. Quinn smoothes down the fur that’s disheveled from shaking himself dry.
“Apollo is a good name. God of light and of the sun.”
“Really? I just named him that coz I saw it in a caption of this picture of a painting of this blonde guy I thought was cute.”
Rachel looks at her incredulously.
“It’s called humor, Berry.”
The brunette shakes her head. This is going to take some getting used to. “Right. He’s also the patron of music.”
Quinn smiles, and maybe it’s her imagination but Rachel thinks it might actually be bordering on affectionate, “I know, Berry.”
“When did you get him? How old is he?”
“About six months, I think. My cousin bought him as a puppy early this year. But he had to leave for college last month, so we adopted him.”
“Six months? He’s already huge. So you renamed him. What was his old name?”
The blonde winces. “Wendy.”
“Are you serious?!”
“My cousin has a little sister who kept insisting the dog was female. She would cry. They gave into her. She’s also kinda scared of the dog, which is also why the family didn’t keep him.”
“Well, thank god you were there to rescue him.”
Quinn makes a noise of assent. “He was obviously a very smart dog. And I’ve always wanted a pet. But, well, Russell…”
The diva nods when Quinn trails off. “Do you normally allow your pets to roam around so freely though?” she scolds lightly, trying to steer the conversation away from anything heavy. “What if he gets lost? Or if he hurts someone?”
The blonde’s expression turns serious. “I don’t just let him wander off. I send him away with strict instructions to fetch me a pretty girl.”
Rachel gapes at her until she notices the slight twitch in Quinn’s jaw. “You’re pulling my leg again.”
Quinn chortles. Rachel crosses her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe that I actually considered for a second there that you had actually managed to train him to do that.”
“Well,” Quinn drawls, “He kinda pulled it off last time, didn’t he?”
Rachel’s cheeks turn crimson.
The cheerleader laughs again, and Rachel realizes that recently she doesn’t terribly mind anymore when it’s at her expense. But she does mind just a little, tiny bit. “Jerk.”
Quinn winks.
“C’mon, Berry. Let’s join Kurt for a swim. I feel like getting a little wet and wild now.”
Rachel just knows the blonde meant for that to sound the way it did, and that its going to take a while to get her @#!$*%^& imagination out of overdrive.
+ + + + +
Rachel manages to stay very not bored for the rest of the week hanging out with Quinn (and some of the other glee kids too, but mostly Quinn).
And the next Monday, when the blonde raises her hand and waves at her in greeting, she spies the word Humility. Quinn notices that she notices.
“I’m working on those pride issues.”
Next Chapter