Fic: Someone I've Been Missing (The Better Half of Me) (3/?)
Title: Someone I've Been Missing (The Better Half of Me)
Pairing: Quinn Fabray/Rachel Berry
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.
Summary: AU/Future fic. Quinn, a rising sophomore in college, meets Rachel for the first time just before the school term begins. An argument between them leaves Rachel wanting nothing more than to forget that Quinn even exists. But she soon finds out that she can’t get rid of the determined blonde that easily.
______________________________________________________________________________
Quinn hates her Tuesday/Thursday classes. Partly because of her French professor and her languorous way of teaching, but mostly because she doesn’t see Rachel at all during the day. But luckily she’s still auditioning for the play so she gets to see her later.
Her day passes by in a blur and she decides to skip lunch because of the simple fact that the butterflies of excitement fluttering in her stomach are too much right now.
She walks into the auditorium and catches sight of Rachel, sitting on the third row from the stage, studying something carefully in her lap.
“Hi,” Quinn says disarmingly as she approaches the girl.
Rachel looks up, eyes wide. “Quinn,” she says quickly. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”
“Why are you here?” Quinn asks in return as she glides through the second row leaning forward on the back of the seat to be closer to Rachel. “It’s lunch. Shouldn’t you be in the dining hall or a restaurant, or somewhere…not here?”
“I always eat here for lunch,” Rachel says softly before glancing back down at her lap. Quinn peers down to look at whatever has the brunette’s attention. “Sheet music? You’re a singer?”
The question garners the first genuine smile Quinn’s ever seen on the older girl’s face. “I love to sing,” she replies. “And I’m good at it.”
“And so modest,” Quinn teases.
“Confident but not conceited,” Rachel says with a small blush as her eyes shy away from Quinn’s own, once again wondering why the girl has so much interest in her. “So you do own a pair of civilian clothes after all,” she jokes, looking Quinn up and down.
Quinn stands up looks down at her light blue dress partly shielded by her letterman. Smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles, she looks back up at Rachel. “I guess so,” she replies with a quiet, nervous laugh.
She leans back down on her seat almost instantly and Rachel suppresses a gasp at the sudden closeness of hazel eyes boring into her own.
“Go out with me, Rachel,” she whispers in the space between them.
Rachel stares into Quinn’s eyes closely, noticing for the first time the hints of gold mixed in with green and brown. She sighs deeply before replying. “Thank you for the offer, Quinn. But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
“What? Why?” she demands in return.
Rachel sighs again before leaning back to put space between them. “Because I am uninterested,” she says softly. “Look Quinn, I apologize if-”
“Forget it,” she spits. “I don’t care. I was just doing you a favor so you wouldn’t have to sit in here and eat lunch alone like a-”
“A what, Quinn?” Rachel challenges as she stands from her chair. “A loser? Well, pardon me if I don’t want to be your charity case. And for the record; I don’t eat lunch in here because I lack friends like the loser you must think me as. I eat lunch in here because I lack tolerance for pig headed jerks like you. Leave your immature mentality back in high school, Quinn,” she says as she walks through the row to the main aisle. She turns back to the blonde. “The only losers here are people that don’t apply themselves and people who try to create a social hierarchy where none exists.”
She gives the blonde a telling glance before storming out of the room, leaving Quinn behind.
______________________________________________________________________________
“Ashley called,” Santana informs Quinn as she does a once over in her mirror. “Wanted to know if you wanted to go to the party with her.”
Quinn doesn’t respond, too focused on applying her eyeliner just right.
“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?” Santana barks from her room. “You’ve been in a pissy mood for two days and I for one am sick of it. And you aren’t going to ruin my night for me, Q. Britt already did that.”
Quinn sighs quietly. “What’s going with you and Britt?” she asks just so she doesn’t have to talk about her own problems. Even two days later she’s still upset about her argument with Rachel and although she doesn’t feel up to partying she’s willing to do just about anything to take her mind off of the other girl.
“Shit, she was talking about feelings today,” Santana says and Quinn can hear her voice getting closer. “She knows how I feel about her so why do we have to talk about it? Why do I have to tell her I love her? Hell, why the fuck do I have to commit to her? Santana Lopez commits to no one.”
Dabbing the last of her lip gloss on her lips, Quinn does a little twirl in the mirror to make sure everything is just right, smoothing her dress down her body. “Everyone likes to hear those words, San. At least that’s what I’ve been told,” she grumbles before sitting back on her bed, putting her boots on.
“Well the way I feel is, if she knows how I feel and I know how I feel then I don’t have to say it,” she huffs. “Hurry your ass up because I’m ready to go.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know how you feel.”
“And maybe I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” Santana growls. “I just wanna get drunk, party, and get laid.”
“Whatever,” Quinn replies before grabbing her jacket. “And for the record; if you don’t want to talk about your marital problems, don’t open your damn mouth.”
Santana’s actually taken aback at the blonde’s tone. Quinn only acted like a true bitch when something was wrong, other times she was only just bitchy, playing the role of something she wasn’t truly about. Before she can respond Quinn is already out the door.
“This is going to be a long fucking night if she thinks she’s going to keep talking to me that way,” Santana grumbles.
______________________________________________________________________________
“Sexy ladies,” Puck jeers as Quinn and Santana walk in. “Beer, vodka, and wine coolers in the kitchen. Pick your poison then come find me if you decide to strip at any point.”
They simultaneously roll their eyes before handing them their coats. “I know how much money’s in there Puck head so don’t even think about putting your paws all over it,” Santana tells him as she passes by.
Not even bothering with pretenses, both girls make a beeline for the kitchen. Quinn grabbing a wine cooler before wandering off and Santana grabbing a whole bottle of vodka that she plans on nursing the entire night.
Quinn walks back into the main room, finding an unoccupied sofa before sitting on it. She downs the first sip of her drink, swirling the Apple Passion flavor on her tongue.
It doesn’t take long for boredom to set in. Quinn isn’t much of a partier. Part of the only reason she comes to parties is to keep an eye on Santana if Brittany doesn’t come with them. Which is rare because Brittany always comes except for nights like this. Rare nights when she and Santana get into huge fights and Brittany just decides to opt out of whatever group fun they’re going to have.
Quinn always hates when they fight because not only does she get put in the middle but she actually likes Brittany. She doesn’t like seeing her hurt or not hanging out with them just because Santana’s an ass.
Before she knows it her wine cooler is empty and she’s walking back into the kitchen looking for something stronger.
______________________________________________________________________________
“And then she had the nerve to yell at me and insinuate that I’m a loser!” Rachel exclaims vehemently. “I mean the nerve of that, that…girl! That rude, obnoxious, abhorrent-”
Kurt and Mercedes sit on Rachel’s bed, flipping through a magazine as they tune in and out of the conversation -albeit one sided conversation- periodically.
“All we did was ask her if she wanted to party with us tonight. How did we end up on this topic?” Kurt whispers to Mercedes between flipping the pages.
Mercedes points excitedly at a pair of boots that she thinks Kurt would look good in. “I don’t even remember. I think it started when you said it was a sophomore party.”
“Ah, yes,” Kurt agrees, sweeping back his side bang. “Then she just had to tell us about how she met the most rude and inconsiderate sophomore of them all.”
“What was her name again?”
“Quinn Fabray. Don’t ever forget it, girl, because I don’t know who’d kill you more. Rachel or the girl herself.”
“Are the two of you even listening?” Rachel huffs, suddenly losing steam as she flops back into the chair at her desk.
“Yeah, of course,” Mercedes waves her off. “Quinn…rude…called you a loser…she’s a bitch. We got it.”
Rachel nods. “She -she just…ugh! And did you know that I have to share a stage with her? And it’s not like I could say no because above anything else, Rachel Berry is a professional. Besides, my acting can only increase exponentially after this play because having to pretend to love a woman that I absolutely cannot stand is quite the difficult task.”
“Are you sure you can’t stand her?” Kurt asks with a teasing smirk.
She flushes a little before crossing her arms over her chest. “She’s unbearable.”
“Uh huh.”
“What are you implying?”
“That we all need to go to this party,” Mercedes chimes in. “C’mon, Rach, we’ve been on this subject for a half hour now. Can we please just go party?”
“You two go ahead, I have homework to catch up on.” With that she turns back to the homework piled on top of her desk.
“Oh hell to the no. Did we really come over here to invite her to the party, listen to her rant about some skinny blonde that she can’t stand for a half hour, only to be kicked out without her even going to the party?”
“You don’t have to leave,” Rachel says with a shrug. She grins widely before reaching into a nearby drawer. “In fact if you stay you can help me make flashcards for my child development class.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” Kurt supplies. “So you’re not going? Again? Honestly, Rachel sometimes you just come off as a hermit.”
Rachel turns from her homework to eye the finely manicured boy on her bed speaking to her. “No, I’m not going Kurt and I can do without the insults, thank you. I got enough of that a few days ago.”
“I think Kurt’s right though,” Mercedes, calls from beside the boy on her bed. “Come on, girlfriend you’ve got to get out sometime. Besides, you’ve been grumpy for the past few days. Maybe if you get out and shake your butt a little bit you’ll feel better.”
She laughs at her friend’s antics, Mercedes now bent over shaking her butt in the air while Kurt smacks it repeatedly. Her giggles quiet down as she responds. “As much as I’d like to do…that. Well, not like to really. I -I’ve never been to very many parties so I’m certain that I can’t shake my rear that well. I don’t even really have one so what would there be to-”
“Rachel,” Kurt interrupts, knowing all too well that her rant could go on for forever. “I’ll admit that going to a sophomore party lacks class and that I’m silently judging Mercedes in my head for even bringing the party to our attention.”
“Whatever,” Mercedes scoffs as she leans over towards Rachel’s mirror, tweaking her lip gloss.
“However, you need some fun, girl! Come party with us. Your homework will always be there.”
Rachel bites her lip in contemplation. It isn’t that she doesn’t want to go. Okay, that was a big part of it. She’s not much of a partier. But even still she’d go just because her friends asked, but after what transpired between her and Quinn she’s honestly still in a bad mood.
She drops her head with a sigh and Kurt and Mercedes already know the answer. “Next time,” Mercedes says softly as she walks over to Rachel and gives her a hug. Kurt follows suit, offering a peck to her cheek. “We’re serious,” he deadpans. “Next time your butt is out of this room and shaking on a dance floor somewhere.”
“Deal,” she says with a smile as she watches them out the door.
______________________________________________________________________________
She can tell the alcohol is well in her system as she stumbles slightly back to the couch, cursing the fact that the genes for tolerating alcohol apparently skipped over her because her mother and father can drink like a fish.
“Quinnie,” a familiar voice calls with affection and Quinn almost vomits.
“You know I don’t like that name,” she replies as a way of greeting Ashley. The girl leans up to place a sloppy kiss to her lips and Quinn can already tell that she isn’t the only drunk one in this conversation.
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” she says as she links her hand with Quinn’s, weaving through the crowd with the blonde trailing behind.
Mercedes feels someone bump into her and, spinning around, she’s about to grab a hand full of dark hair before Kurt stops her. “Easy there, Cedes,” he coaxes. “Wait, is that Quinn Fabray?”
Quinn barely registers her name being called as she ignores whoever it is, concentrating on the difficult task of putting one foot in front of the other.
Mercedes laughs loudly as Kurt follows suit, having had three shots each and feeling the effects of giggle fits and double vision already. “Q -Quinn Fabray,” she howls, head tossed back. “Wouldn’t that be funny if that was actually her?”
Kurt nods animatedly, wiping a tear from his eye. “I almost wish Rachel wash here. She would have thrown a hissy fit at that poor girl. Whoever she is.”
Mercedes takes deep breaths to calm herself before bursting into another fit of giggles. “There are too many blondes at this school.”
Quinn follows Ashley up a flight of stairs, too gone to even engage the brunette in conversation. Sniffling from a nearby room catches her attention and before she knows it she’s let go of Ashley’s hand to follow the cause of the noise.
“Britts, I’m sorry, okay?”
Suspecting her friend to be on the phone, she’s surprised to peak into the room to see Santana curled into Brittany’s lap and Brittany stroking her hair.
“Then why do you always do that, San?” Brittany asks softly, wiping a tear off Santana’s face before intertwining their fingers. She looks up, surprised to see Quinn there but offering her a soft smile.
“Because I’m a stupid bitch,” Santana sniffles into the blonde’s neck.
“No you’re not,” Brittany says firmly. “You’re just scared. And I get that you’re scared, San but you can’t keep pushing me away like you do. It hurts.”
Quinn smiles back at her two friends before quietly walking away, having faith that they’ll work it out. She continues to follow Ashley until they reach the end of the hall. “Come on, baby,” Ashley purrs as she pulls Quinn inside and shuts the door.
______________________________________________________________________________
Mr. Schuester eyes the two girls carefully, choosing his words wisely. “How would the two of you feel about doing a once over of the goodbye kiss today?”
Rachel instantly bristles and Quinn isn’t much better. He exhales quietly before forging forward. “Okay, maybe that isn’t such a good idea. The two of you seem to be a bit…out of it.”
“I’m fine,” Quinn says gruffly.
“I am more than capable of doing this scene though it isn’t one that I would choose to do right now,” Rachel replies.
“Alright, whenever you’re ready.”
Quinn turns to look at Rachel and just as if someone’s flipped a switch, all traces of malice are gone from the brunette’s deep eyes. Quinn would find it creepy the way Rachel can turn her hate on and off without an issue, but some part of her actually finds it hot.
“I have an hour left, Lyssa,” Quinn says, pain evident in her voice as she avoids Rachel’s eyes. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“You don’t have to go,” Rachel says forcefully, tapping into the inner psyche of her selfish and petulant character. “Come with me to Florida.” She grabs Quinn’s jaw gently, stroking the soft skin there before turning Quinn to face her head on. “Just come with me, please,” she pleads.
“Please, Brooke,” she says brokenly, clutching the front of Quinn’s letterman. Quinn’s breath picks up slightly at Rachel’s sudden close proximity. She wracks her brain trying to find her next line.
Pulling away, she takes a few steps back before turning away from Rachel. “If I come with you then what will I do? What about my life? What about my dreams?” She turns back around to face Rachel with a hopeless expression on her face. “Alyssa, you can’t be selfish.”
“Love is selfish!” Rachel shouts as she quickly closes the distance between them. “It’s selfish, it’s unkind, but it’s real. What we have is real, please don’t throw it away.”
“Alyssa-”
Rachel surges forward, her lips landing firmly against Quinn’s own. Quinn’s arms immediately wrap around Rachel’s waist, if only to ground herself against the unexpected onslaught.
Rachel’s lips are soft but unyielding, gently coaxing Quinn into play. Quinn tightens her hold around Rachel before canting her head to the right, sliding her lips effortlessly against Rachel’s. She sighs quietly against Rachel’s lips when she feels two arms wrap around her neck securely.
A slippery tongue flicks against her lips and Quinn moans quietly before allowing Rachel in, pulling their bodies even closer.
“Okay girls, break it up,” Mr. Schuester calls from behind his desk away from the stage. Rachel pulls back slowly, eyes darker than usual as they flit from Quinn’s lips, to her eyes, to Mr. Schuester as she backs away.
Quinn stands there awkwardly, wondering just what the hell happened. She knows the scene had required a kiss but damn. Her lips tingle and she licks them quickly before turning to face Mr. Schuester as well.
Mr. Schuester looks at them proudly before standing. “I have to say that you guys blow me away with your chemistry each and every time,” he gushes. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say the two of you were already dating.”
They both frown for completely different reasons, but take the compliment as it was intended.
Rachel’s the first to hop off stage, grabbing her bag from a row of seats before preparing to leave.
“Practice again tomorrow, ladies. The play goes on at the end of the year and I’d like us to be on top of our game.”
Quinn nods as she makes her way to Rachel. “Can you hang back for just a second? I’d really like to talk to you.”
“Sure, Quinn,” she replies warily before walking off to a nearby row. She smoothes the back of her skirt before taking a seat.
“I want to apologize for my behavior a few days ago,” Quinn says sincerely, sitting beside her. “Rachel, I don’t think you’re a loser. In fact I think that you’re…” she pauses to lick her lips nervously, eyes finding the floor with interest, “beautiful…and smart and talented.”
Rachel’s stoic expression softens just a fraction as she soaks in Quinn’s words.
“You know what your problem is, Quinn?”
She bites the inside of her cheek to keep in any kind of defensive and scathing remark. “…What’s my problem, Rachel?”
“Your problem is that no one’s ever told you no.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Everyone, everyone from your parents, to the servants I’m sure you had at your house, to the pack of friends that I’m sure you’re the leader of, to every guy or girl or both you’ve ever dated. No one has ever told you no or turned you down for anything.”
Quinn mulls over words, keeping her temper in check at Rachel’s assessment, no, judgement of her. “And what if that’s true?” she asks. “How is that a bad thing?”
“Because you’re simply unbearable!” Rachel exclaims, throwing her hands up. “Do not get me wrong, Quinn. You have impeccable manners which I’m sure come from grade A grooming as a child-”
“I’m not a dog.”
“-But you’re arrogant. You think the entire world revolves around you. Everyone’s life revolves around you and if they ever answer no to you then they’ll have hell to pay.”
“Hey, wait now that’s not true.”
“Every time I’ve ever told you no you have given me nothing but attitude.”
“You give me attitude,” she fires right back. “Hell, you carry yourself as if the very ground you walk on is sacred and that you’re just so untouchable!”
“Well what about you? That day when we first met you asked if I knew you and I said no. I thought you’d have an aneurysm!”
Quinn laughs humorlessly, standing up to put a hand on her hip. “And then I introduced myself, you know, trying to get a dialogue going so that we could know each other better. And you basically said that you regretted meeting me!”
“And then you had the audacity to raise your voice to me and spout out hurtful words just because I told you I didn’t want to go on a date with you!” Rachel yells, color in her cheeks as she stands to meet Quinn head on.
Quinn closes her eyes to calm her ire, unsure if she and Rachel were even having the same conversation, well, argument, anymore.
“Look, how about we both just apologize and start over,” she offers a second later.
Rachel nods her consent, if only to have some sort of civility while they work together. She clears her throat. “And just so we don’t have to argue yet again about who should be the one to apologize first, allow me.” She sucks in a deep breath before meeting the blonde’s eyes. “Quinn, I, Rachel Barbra Berry, formally apologize for my behavior towards you this past month. It was unacceptable and borderline childish and I can assure you it won’t happen again. I am actually quite nice, if only a tad obnoxious at times once you get to know me.”
Quinn smiles at the older girl’s long winded apology before she offers one of her own. “Rachel, I, Quinn Fabray -okay I can’t do this.” She shakes her head before stepping closer to Rachel. “I’m not very good with formalities although my father is perfect at being formal,” she says with a roll of her eyes.
“Rachel. I apologize for my behavior. You’re right; I was extremely arrogant for no reason at all and it was uncalled for. It won’t happen again. And unlike you I’m not a tad obnoxious, I’m very obnoxious. I hope that doesn’t stop you from wanting to be my friend though,” she laughs.
“Friend?” Rachel blurts out, chastising herself afterwards for sounding hopeful.
“If you want me to be.”
“Do you want to be?”
“Yeah.”
She sticks her hand out. “Friends?”
Rachel smiles despite herself, taking the blonde’s hand into her own. “Friends.”
Quinn brings Rachel’s hand to her chest, clutching it tightly as she steps closer. “So does this mean that you’ll go out on a date with me?” she whispers.
“No,” Rachel whispers with a large grin on her face.
“You’ll say yes one day,” Quinn retorts without any trace of malice in her voice.
Rachel just smiles enigmatically at her before retrieving her hand from Quinn’s admittedly soft ones. “We’ll see.”