Sometimes I think that cupid is just taking the piss.
Title: Sometimes I think that Cupid...
Author: rainbowruse
Rating: PG 13, for a swear.
Length: Roughly 1,500
Spoilers: All of season 1 + S2 Episode 1; Audition (a bit)
Summary: Her instincts had never failed her before, but she didn't like what they were indicating at all.
The title is taken from a No Doubt song called In My Head, from the album Rock Steady. Good track, good band. Cheers guys! Please let me know what you think of this, because I wasn't sure. This is my first Faberry fic ever :D
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When Rachel Berry noticed the way Quinn Fabray’s hair shone wonderfully under the scrutiny of an errant sunbeam that lanced through the window of their shared Spanish class, she took it in her stride. When her heart lurched uncomfortably in her chest at the sight of the other girl’s smile she barely noticed. She never was one to over anaylse, truly. She took most things at face value and her instincts guided her. So that afternoon in Glee when her throat became thick with something that she couldn’t identify at the sight of Quinn’s palms conforming to her wonderful post-baby body she just cleared it quietly and reset herself in her chair.
One particular lunch time found Rachel Berry low in the bleachers, sheet music spread across her lap, her eyes trained on the rhythmic movements of the Cheer leading squad that practiced twenty meters away. The thudding techno track for their routine echoed off the empty bleachers and rolled around the pitch, and as much as it grated at Rachel she couldn’t bring herself to care. Her eyes were fixed on Quinn who at the moment was dipping low at the waist before rolling to a standing position in unison with six other girls. One perfect back hand spring later and she was lifted and tossed expertly by a few of the male Cheerios, landing with a surreal brand of grace at the top of the pyramid. Rachel swallowed, but couldn’t moisten her mouth. If there was one thing that got Rachel’s attention, it was talent and Quinn had it in spades.
The next few weeks were full of similar moments, when the light would hit the recently re-instated head Cheerio just right and Rachel would calm her racing heart before continuing on as she always had, not giving the incident a second thought. It all finally came to a head when Rachel walked into the Auditorium one lunch time to practice, only to find Quinn already there, depressing the ivory and ebony keys of the on stage piano in a muted minor chord. The ability to walk, to place one foot in front of the other and propel oneself forward left Rachel. She drew up short, just inside the door. Quinn sat, poised and somber and Rachel marveled at the juxtaposition of beauty and terror, fragility and strength all contained within a seemingly angelic shell.
Her heart sang. Suddenly the memories from the last few months, those little moments were rising to the surface, like the cream rising to the top of fresh milk. It started slowly at first but increased rapidly until all Rachel could see was Quinn, even with her eyes closed. Under the onslaught of such memories Rachel was helpless, and she didn’t realize that she had sunk to her knees and only that she was crying when the image of Quinn that she was focusing on began to blur. Rachel lifted a trembling hand to her face and she grimaced when it came away wet. She wiped the rest of tears away and took one last look at Quinn, who thankfully had remained oblivious to her emotional meltdown. She retreated to the closest bathroom that she could so that she could return to herself.
Upon arriving home that Friday afternoon Rachel holed up in her bedroom, throwing herself onto her bed with a heavy sigh. Her instincts had never failed her before, but she didn’t like what they were indicating at all. She turned her thoughts to Quinn, remembering the way she’d seen her dancing in Glee only yesterday, and the little bolt of excitement that shot through her at the flash of spanks that every twirl had afforded her. Rachel groaned in defeat. There were no two ways about it. She refused to get ahead of herself however. An attraction was just that, and it need not be acted upon. So in true form, Rachel decided to carry on as if nothing had changed (And it hadn’t, she told herself).
The only thing that was different was the sudden, intense awareness that Rachel had of Quinn. She could tell when she walked into a room if the other girl was there or not. She could pick her voice out from the jabber of a hundred other students in the cafeteria. Just little things, and she did her best to hold her head high and act like it was all the same to her. But secretly her heart leapt a little when she heard Quinn’s voice, a purr with just the right amount of sweetness. And when Rachel saw her, everything seemed just a little brighter. All these things could be kept covert, secret though, and that’s what they were.
Unfortunately for our favourite, ambitious Gleek what she couldn’t ignore was that through her observations (unintentional though they were) she was getting to know Quinn Fabray better each and every day. She picked up on little habits and nuances of the other girl’s personality that endeared her even more to Rachel. This brought the ever confusing emotions factor into the equation. With each new fact or tidbit Rachel came across, her appetite for information expanded. So she couldn’t help it, no she just couldn’t, when she told Quinn she looked pretty that day, or that she’d sung well. Or that she would send a small smile Quinn’s way when they passed in the hall. It seemed to confuse Quinn a little; Rachel recognized the wrinkle in her brow as uncertainty and befuddlement. ‘All the better.’ Rachel thought. At least it wasn’t anger, righteous or otherwise.
Now, Rachel never was one to deny herself anything that she wanted, so one afternoon when Quinn somehow ended up sobbing into her shoulder after Glee because Puck had bit out a caustic remark in one of his bitter moods, she internally rejoiced at the contact, her happiness warring with her concern. Her arm was perched lightly across Quinn’s shoulders as the other girl leaned into her, crying into the soft, worn wool of one of her tamer animal sweaters.
“He’s just hurt Quinn, so he’s lashing out. He didn’t mean it, not really.” She spoke softly, slowly, the opposite of how she usually did.
There were a few sniffs before Quinn replied, “Yes he did, Berry. He meant it because I hurt him.” Her voice was heavy with the sobs she was fighting to keep at bay. Rachel’s other arm found its way across her lapel, where the small girl’s two hands linked together to draw Quinn in tighter,
“But you didn’t mean to, did you?”
It wasn’t so much a question as a statement. The wag of Quinn’s head into her shoulder told her that the blonde had never intended to. She knew that already though. She had seen Quinn’s regret, her pain and the fragility of her happiness; wiped away with a single glance at Finn, or Puck. Then Quinn was stiffening in her hold and Rachel despaired. She knew that the other girl was going to pull away, shake off her hurt like it was nothing, telling Rachel to “Get lost, Manhands.” And when Quinn’s head turned up towards her, her expression indicated that that had been her intention, until, it seemed, she looked into Rachel’s eyes. There was a sudden, fragile silence that bowed under the weight of the seconds as they passed. The unshed tears in Quinn’s eyes trembled on the lower lids, as Rachel’s resolve trembled. Quinn blinked, and the tears tumbled free, making wet tracks down her pale cheeks. Rachel was spurred into action, choosing to reach up and brush those tears away with the pad of her thumb, rather than kiss them away like she wanted to.
“I..” Quinn stuttered, her jaw working as if it would help push out the words that weren’t forthcoming. Rachel could tell that Quinn was reading her thoughts through her eyes. She always had been an open book. Her affection (she hesitated to call it even that) and concern were evident in her expression. A tremulous smile turned her lips up at the corners. She was sure Quinn had no idea what to do with them, the emotions she could see. And when Quinn turned her face away, biting her lower lip Rachel knew things could have been worse.
She withdrew her arms and stood, silently. If Quinn didn’t want her to leave, she showed no sign of it. Better to let her believe whatever she wanted to, and walk away. Words could do no more. So when she turned and strode up the hall without looking back she didn’t see Quinn staring after her, biting fiercely on her lower lip. Nor did she see the way the other girl suddenly withdrew into herself, standing up and walking away without so much as a backwards glance, tears still leaking from her eyes.
Author: rainbowruse
Rating: PG 13, for a swear.
Length: Roughly 1,500
Spoilers: All of season 1 + S2 Episode 1; Audition (a bit)
Summary: Her instincts had never failed her before, but she didn't like what they were indicating at all.
The title is taken from a No Doubt song called In My Head, from the album Rock Steady. Good track, good band. Cheers guys! Please let me know what you think of this, because I wasn't sure. This is my first Faberry fic ever :D
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When Rachel Berry noticed the way Quinn Fabray’s hair shone wonderfully under the scrutiny of an errant sunbeam that lanced through the window of their shared Spanish class, she took it in her stride. When her heart lurched uncomfortably in her chest at the sight of the other girl’s smile she barely noticed. She never was one to over anaylse, truly. She took most things at face value and her instincts guided her. So that afternoon in Glee when her throat became thick with something that she couldn’t identify at the sight of Quinn’s palms conforming to her wonderful post-baby body she just cleared it quietly and reset herself in her chair.
One particular lunch time found Rachel Berry low in the bleachers, sheet music spread across her lap, her eyes trained on the rhythmic movements of the Cheer leading squad that practiced twenty meters away. The thudding techno track for their routine echoed off the empty bleachers and rolled around the pitch, and as much as it grated at Rachel she couldn’t bring herself to care. Her eyes were fixed on Quinn who at the moment was dipping low at the waist before rolling to a standing position in unison with six other girls. One perfect back hand spring later and she was lifted and tossed expertly by a few of the male Cheerios, landing with a surreal brand of grace at the top of the pyramid. Rachel swallowed, but couldn’t moisten her mouth. If there was one thing that got Rachel’s attention, it was talent and Quinn had it in spades.
The next few weeks were full of similar moments, when the light would hit the recently re-instated head Cheerio just right and Rachel would calm her racing heart before continuing on as she always had, not giving the incident a second thought. It all finally came to a head when Rachel walked into the Auditorium one lunch time to practice, only to find Quinn already there, depressing the ivory and ebony keys of the on stage piano in a muted minor chord. The ability to walk, to place one foot in front of the other and propel oneself forward left Rachel. She drew up short, just inside the door. Quinn sat, poised and somber and Rachel marveled at the juxtaposition of beauty and terror, fragility and strength all contained within a seemingly angelic shell.
Her heart sang. Suddenly the memories from the last few months, those little moments were rising to the surface, like the cream rising to the top of fresh milk. It started slowly at first but increased rapidly until all Rachel could see was Quinn, even with her eyes closed. Under the onslaught of such memories Rachel was helpless, and she didn’t realize that she had sunk to her knees and only that she was crying when the image of Quinn that she was focusing on began to blur. Rachel lifted a trembling hand to her face and she grimaced when it came away wet. She wiped the rest of tears away and took one last look at Quinn, who thankfully had remained oblivious to her emotional meltdown. She retreated to the closest bathroom that she could so that she could return to herself.
Upon arriving home that Friday afternoon Rachel holed up in her bedroom, throwing herself onto her bed with a heavy sigh. Her instincts had never failed her before, but she didn’t like what they were indicating at all. She turned her thoughts to Quinn, remembering the way she’d seen her dancing in Glee only yesterday, and the little bolt of excitement that shot through her at the flash of spanks that every twirl had afforded her. Rachel groaned in defeat. There were no two ways about it. She refused to get ahead of herself however. An attraction was just that, and it need not be acted upon. So in true form, Rachel decided to carry on as if nothing had changed (And it hadn’t, she told herself).
The only thing that was different was the sudden, intense awareness that Rachel had of Quinn. She could tell when she walked into a room if the other girl was there or not. She could pick her voice out from the jabber of a hundred other students in the cafeteria. Just little things, and she did her best to hold her head high and act like it was all the same to her. But secretly her heart leapt a little when she heard Quinn’s voice, a purr with just the right amount of sweetness. And when Rachel saw her, everything seemed just a little brighter. All these things could be kept covert, secret though, and that’s what they were.
Unfortunately for our favourite, ambitious Gleek what she couldn’t ignore was that through her observations (unintentional though they were) she was getting to know Quinn Fabray better each and every day. She picked up on little habits and nuances of the other girl’s personality that endeared her even more to Rachel. This brought the ever confusing emotions factor into the equation. With each new fact or tidbit Rachel came across, her appetite for information expanded. So she couldn’t help it, no she just couldn’t, when she told Quinn she looked pretty that day, or that she’d sung well. Or that she would send a small smile Quinn’s way when they passed in the hall. It seemed to confuse Quinn a little; Rachel recognized the wrinkle in her brow as uncertainty and befuddlement. ‘All the better.’ Rachel thought. At least it wasn’t anger, righteous or otherwise.
Now, Rachel never was one to deny herself anything that she wanted, so one afternoon when Quinn somehow ended up sobbing into her shoulder after Glee because Puck had bit out a caustic remark in one of his bitter moods, she internally rejoiced at the contact, her happiness warring with her concern. Her arm was perched lightly across Quinn’s shoulders as the other girl leaned into her, crying into the soft, worn wool of one of her tamer animal sweaters.
“He’s just hurt Quinn, so he’s lashing out. He didn’t mean it, not really.” She spoke softly, slowly, the opposite of how she usually did.
There were a few sniffs before Quinn replied, “Yes he did, Berry. He meant it because I hurt him.” Her voice was heavy with the sobs she was fighting to keep at bay. Rachel’s other arm found its way across her lapel, where the small girl’s two hands linked together to draw Quinn in tighter,
“But you didn’t mean to, did you?”
It wasn’t so much a question as a statement. The wag of Quinn’s head into her shoulder told her that the blonde had never intended to. She knew that already though. She had seen Quinn’s regret, her pain and the fragility of her happiness; wiped away with a single glance at Finn, or Puck. Then Quinn was stiffening in her hold and Rachel despaired. She knew that the other girl was going to pull away, shake off her hurt like it was nothing, telling Rachel to “Get lost, Manhands.” And when Quinn’s head turned up towards her, her expression indicated that that had been her intention, until, it seemed, she looked into Rachel’s eyes. There was a sudden, fragile silence that bowed under the weight of the seconds as they passed. The unshed tears in Quinn’s eyes trembled on the lower lids, as Rachel’s resolve trembled. Quinn blinked, and the tears tumbled free, making wet tracks down her pale cheeks. Rachel was spurred into action, choosing to reach up and brush those tears away with the pad of her thumb, rather than kiss them away like she wanted to.
“I..” Quinn stuttered, her jaw working as if it would help push out the words that weren’t forthcoming. Rachel could tell that Quinn was reading her thoughts through her eyes. She always had been an open book. Her affection (she hesitated to call it even that) and concern were evident in her expression. A tremulous smile turned her lips up at the corners. She was sure Quinn had no idea what to do with them, the emotions she could see. And when Quinn turned her face away, biting her lower lip Rachel knew things could have been worse.
She withdrew her arms and stood, silently. If Quinn didn’t want her to leave, she showed no sign of it. Better to let her believe whatever she wanted to, and walk away. Words could do no more. So when she turned and strode up the hall without looking back she didn’t see Quinn staring after her, biting fiercely on her lower lip. Nor did she see the way the other girl suddenly withdrew into herself, standing up and walking away without so much as a backwards glance, tears still leaking from her eyes.