FIC: "Take A Chance On Me" [Glee; Rachel/Quinn]
Title: Take A Chance On Me
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None, Pre-Relationship, Post-Preggers
Word Count: 1743
Summary: Rachel takes a chance.
Disclaimer: "Glee", its characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ryan Murphy Productions, and 20th Century Fox Entertainment. This piece of fan fiction was created for fun and not profit.
**
Inside Rachel Berry’s head, a million voices scream all at once.
What are you doing, Berry?
Are you CRAZY?
For God’s sake, DON’T do it!!
She ignores them. At least, she tries to. She concentrates on the one voice swimming against the rapids. The one voice still compelling her feet to move forward, leadenly, one after the other.
If you don’t do this now, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.
So Rachel walks, inhaling as if there’s courage in the air and she can actually swallow it. She thinks of her idols. Cherry picks the best pieces and puts them inside of herself - a little courage, a little pluck, a little suave, a little swagger. It doesn’t help, not really, but it’s best to always try.
The air is thick, the lights blinding, the bodies on the dance floor she has to wade through crushing. Rachel’s gut tightens, her chest squeezes and it gets harder to breathe, her heart threatens to beat its way out of her chest.
The crowd thins and what, just a moment ago, felt like a barrier, an obstacle, feels like shelter she‘s been tossed from. Rachel’s feet slow, like she wants to go back into the crowd because at least then, she couldn’t see her. And she couldn’t see Rachel.
Quinn.
Rachel’s breath hitches. She hasn’t seen Quinn since summer started, since Quinn had the baby and her parents took her back.
Quinn’s sitting with the Cheerios, all glowy summer-tanned skin and smiles. One of the Cheerios sees Rachel first and like a flock of birds the rest of their eyes snap towards her. They’re sitting down but, still, they look down their noses at her with contempt and scorn. Like *they* were the ones who took Quinn in when Finn kicked her out. Like they were the shoulder Quinn cried on and the arms that held her the day Quinn gave her baby away.
“Look what the cat dragged in?” one of them says.
“What is it, Man Hands?” another snarls.
And it’s enough to still some of the voices in Rachel’s head, sways a few negative voices to the other side. Another inhale of courage and Rachel turns her eyes towards Quinn. Quinn’s face is blank, unreadable. The nervousness returns because Rachel hasn’t spoken to Quinn for months, doesn’t know which Quinn is before her.
“Rachel?” Quinn speaks first.
“Would you,” her eyes go to the floor, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind an ear then immediately back up. If she’s going to do this, she has to see Quinn’s face. “Would you like to dance?”
Someone snickers. Someone else fake coughs ‘dyke’. Rachel doesn’t look to see, doesn’t dare take her eyes off Quinn’s. Quinn’s face twitches, just a little, that subtle angry Cheerio look Rachel knows too well. Then, her eyes soften and the corners of her lips turn up. She lifts her arm, extends her hand towards Rachel.
“I’d love to.”
There’s an audible gasp, possibly a choked laugh. Except it’s not from Rachel. At the moment, she’s trying to remember to breathe, gaping at the hand extended to her like it’s some alien creature from another planet.
She takes Quinn’s hand and Quinn effortlessly rises from her seat, moving towards the dance floor. Rachel follows her, trancelike, because it’s really like a dream, the sound has become muffled, the corners of her vision blurry. There’s even sparkling lights haloing around Quinn’s head.
The music changes, switching from a mid-tempo dance number to a slow song. And Rachel’s feet become rooted to the floor as her chest seizes. She hadn’t planned for this.
Quinn stops because Rachel isn’t moving anymore, reacting to the soft tug on her arm. She stares at Rachel quizzically for a moment, then the smile on her lips broadens.
“What are you waiting for, Berry?” she chuckles, tugging on Rachel’s arm enough to get the brunette moving. “You asked.”
Rachel’s suddenly self-conscious and aware. She can feel everyone’s eyes on them. Like the world stopped moving just so everyone can stop and stare. She can feel their eyes but she never stops looking at Quinn and the way she’s looking at her, like she’s actually happy being on the dance floor with Rachel Berry. The voices start again, filling her with doubts. Quinn can be mean and cruel and Rachel remembers all those times Quinn’s ire was directed at Rachel. She hasn’t talked to Quinn all summer. And it suddenly occurs to Rachel, now, that the Quinn standing before her might not be the one Rachel fell in love with.
It’s Quinn who pulls them closer, places Rachel’s hand on Quinn’s shoulder and clasps the other. She begins to sway. The music’s soft, sensual, not sexual. There’s a shudder and Rachel’s not sure if it came from herself or Quinn.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn whispers, almost inaudibly.
“For what?”
“When my parents took me back..” she stammers, stops, lowers her head. “I should have called.”
“It’s okay,” Rachel shrugs.
“No,” Quinn lifts her head. Rachel feels her body stiffen. “It’s not. You and your Dad’s were so good to me, probably better than I ever deserved. I shouldn’t have shut you out like that.”
Rachel smiles sheepishly, unsure what to say. The plan had been to ask Quinn to dance. She hadn’t planned for Quinn to actually say yes. She hadn’t planned for Quinn to open up to her like this, like back when Quinn was a pariah and the only person she had to talk to was Rachel.
“Will you..” Quinn speaks again, pursing her lips because she can’t read Rachel’s expression. “Tell your Dad’s I’m sorry.”
“I will,” Rachel says and she feels Quinn exhale, like a heavy weight has just been lifted. “They understand.”
The two are all smiles now, swaying to the music, nervously looking but not looking at each other. Rachel can feel that unspoken ‘thing’ between them, heavy and tense, and now she’s not so sure she’s the only one who’s ever noticed it. The arm around her waist is a little tenser now, the palm against her back warmer.
“You can..” Quinn stammers again, licks her lips like she’s nervous or something. “You can put your head on my shoulder.. If you want.”
Rachel nods her head hurriedly because she wants. She really, really wants. She turns her head slightly, places it gently on Quinn’s shoulder. Her eyes close immediately because this ‘thing’ between them has shifted in some intangible way Rachel can’t quite put her finger on. But it feels too good to think about too much, so she just gives in to the sensation of ‘this’ - the music, Quinn’s arm around her waist, the warmth of her body. It’ll end soon. Too soon. Quinn will go back to her side of the room with the Cheerios, and Rachel will retreat to hers. Alone.
“You’re shivering,” Quinn whispers into Rachel’s ear.
“I’m cold.”
“Liar,” Quinn chuckles. She pulls back a little so Rachel’s head is no longer on her shoulder. Rachel tilts her head up. Quinn moves closer until all Rachel can see are hazel eyes peering into her own. “How long have you wanted to ask me to dance?”
There’s a thud in her chest, like her heart suddenly forgot to beat. “Since fifth grade.”
Quinn chuckles softly, smiles. But Rachel doesn’t notice that, she’s too busy staring at the blush slowly darkening Quinn’s cheeks, the widening pupils of her eyes and how it’s Quinn’s heart that’s thudding against her chest like it’s going to explode.
“How long have you wanted to kiss me?”
Rachel doesn’t even have to think about this one. “Since the day I met you.”
“We were three!”
“You remember?”
The pink of Quinn’s cheeks turns a shade darker. She tilts her head down coyly, gazing up at Rachel. “I remember a lot of things about you.”
“Like how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me.”
Quinn rolls her lower lip between her teeth. Rachel feels the thud of Quinn’s heart. She takes the hand on Quinn’s shoulder, slides it over, fingertips just below Quinn’s jaw.
“You can, you know,” Rachel swallows. “Kiss me.”
It’s like the world’s gone into super slow-motion because, even though the distance between them is infinitesimally small, it takes forever to bridge it. Then their lips meet and the world around them disappears all together. Quinn’s lips are warm, her breath warmer and Rachel whimpers at the slightest of contact, a China doll made of the most fragile glass and someone’s pushed her over the edge. But, she doesn’t break, doesn’t shatter into a million pieces because Quinn doesn’t stop and recoil in revulsion like Rachel always imagined.
Because it’s Quinn who deepens the kiss. She lightly suckles Rachel’s upper lip then pulls back just enough to move to the lower one. When her tongue brushes across Rachel’s lips, Rachel’s all yes, threading her fingers into Quinn’s hair and pulling her in.
It’s slow and gentle. Exploratory. Then it’s passionate and exciting, like there’s no going back because now they both know how much the other has wanted this. They don’t hear the song end or the next one begin. They don’t feel the eyes on them or hear the not so quiet whispers.
“Ladies.” The voice of Principal Figgins is like glacial water thrown onto a bon fire. “This is a school dance, not a brothel.”
Rachel knows she’s supposed to be mortified but Quinn’s hand is clasped around her own and she’s being pulled through the crowd. The pace quickens and they’re running, hand in hand, through the hallways of the school, giggling at the tops of their voices.
They make their way outside. Rachel is pressed against the door of Quinn’s car and Quinn kisses her like she’s making up for lost time. It’s only five minutes from the school to Rachel’s house but it feels like an eternity. An eternity Rachel spends staring at the fingers threaded through hers. The most wonderful dream she never wants to wake from.
Then they’re in Rachel’s room, on Rachel’s bed. Like before when Quinn still lived with the Berry’s but so much better because there’s kissing involved now. Kissing and giggling, then just kissing.
The voices inside Rachel’s head are quiet, except the one that was with her all along. The one that dared her to ask Quinn to ‘take a chance on me’.
END
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None, Pre-Relationship, Post-Preggers
Word Count: 1743
Summary: Rachel takes a chance.
Disclaimer: "Glee", its characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ryan Murphy Productions, and 20th Century Fox Entertainment. This piece of fan fiction was created for fun and not profit.
**
Inside Rachel Berry’s head, a million voices scream all at once.
What are you doing, Berry?
Are you CRAZY?
For God’s sake, DON’T do it!!
She ignores them. At least, she tries to. She concentrates on the one voice swimming against the rapids. The one voice still compelling her feet to move forward, leadenly, one after the other.
If you don’t do this now, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.
So Rachel walks, inhaling as if there’s courage in the air and she can actually swallow it. She thinks of her idols. Cherry picks the best pieces and puts them inside of herself - a little courage, a little pluck, a little suave, a little swagger. It doesn’t help, not really, but it’s best to always try.
The air is thick, the lights blinding, the bodies on the dance floor she has to wade through crushing. Rachel’s gut tightens, her chest squeezes and it gets harder to breathe, her heart threatens to beat its way out of her chest.
The crowd thins and what, just a moment ago, felt like a barrier, an obstacle, feels like shelter she‘s been tossed from. Rachel’s feet slow, like she wants to go back into the crowd because at least then, she couldn’t see her. And she couldn’t see Rachel.
Quinn.
Rachel’s breath hitches. She hasn’t seen Quinn since summer started, since Quinn had the baby and her parents took her back.
Quinn’s sitting with the Cheerios, all glowy summer-tanned skin and smiles. One of the Cheerios sees Rachel first and like a flock of birds the rest of their eyes snap towards her. They’re sitting down but, still, they look down their noses at her with contempt and scorn. Like *they* were the ones who took Quinn in when Finn kicked her out. Like they were the shoulder Quinn cried on and the arms that held her the day Quinn gave her baby away.
“Look what the cat dragged in?” one of them says.
“What is it, Man Hands?” another snarls.
And it’s enough to still some of the voices in Rachel’s head, sways a few negative voices to the other side. Another inhale of courage and Rachel turns her eyes towards Quinn. Quinn’s face is blank, unreadable. The nervousness returns because Rachel hasn’t spoken to Quinn for months, doesn’t know which Quinn is before her.
“Rachel?” Quinn speaks first.
“Would you,” her eyes go to the floor, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind an ear then immediately back up. If she’s going to do this, she has to see Quinn’s face. “Would you like to dance?”
Someone snickers. Someone else fake coughs ‘dyke’. Rachel doesn’t look to see, doesn’t dare take her eyes off Quinn’s. Quinn’s face twitches, just a little, that subtle angry Cheerio look Rachel knows too well. Then, her eyes soften and the corners of her lips turn up. She lifts her arm, extends her hand towards Rachel.
“I’d love to.”
There’s an audible gasp, possibly a choked laugh. Except it’s not from Rachel. At the moment, she’s trying to remember to breathe, gaping at the hand extended to her like it’s some alien creature from another planet.
She takes Quinn’s hand and Quinn effortlessly rises from her seat, moving towards the dance floor. Rachel follows her, trancelike, because it’s really like a dream, the sound has become muffled, the corners of her vision blurry. There’s even sparkling lights haloing around Quinn’s head.
The music changes, switching from a mid-tempo dance number to a slow song. And Rachel’s feet become rooted to the floor as her chest seizes. She hadn’t planned for this.
Quinn stops because Rachel isn’t moving anymore, reacting to the soft tug on her arm. She stares at Rachel quizzically for a moment, then the smile on her lips broadens.
“What are you waiting for, Berry?” she chuckles, tugging on Rachel’s arm enough to get the brunette moving. “You asked.”
Rachel’s suddenly self-conscious and aware. She can feel everyone’s eyes on them. Like the world stopped moving just so everyone can stop and stare. She can feel their eyes but she never stops looking at Quinn and the way she’s looking at her, like she’s actually happy being on the dance floor with Rachel Berry. The voices start again, filling her with doubts. Quinn can be mean and cruel and Rachel remembers all those times Quinn’s ire was directed at Rachel. She hasn’t talked to Quinn all summer. And it suddenly occurs to Rachel, now, that the Quinn standing before her might not be the one Rachel fell in love with.
It’s Quinn who pulls them closer, places Rachel’s hand on Quinn’s shoulder and clasps the other. She begins to sway. The music’s soft, sensual, not sexual. There’s a shudder and Rachel’s not sure if it came from herself or Quinn.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn whispers, almost inaudibly.
“For what?”
“When my parents took me back..” she stammers, stops, lowers her head. “I should have called.”
“It’s okay,” Rachel shrugs.
“No,” Quinn lifts her head. Rachel feels her body stiffen. “It’s not. You and your Dad’s were so good to me, probably better than I ever deserved. I shouldn’t have shut you out like that.”
Rachel smiles sheepishly, unsure what to say. The plan had been to ask Quinn to dance. She hadn’t planned for Quinn to actually say yes. She hadn’t planned for Quinn to open up to her like this, like back when Quinn was a pariah and the only person she had to talk to was Rachel.
“Will you..” Quinn speaks again, pursing her lips because she can’t read Rachel’s expression. “Tell your Dad’s I’m sorry.”
“I will,” Rachel says and she feels Quinn exhale, like a heavy weight has just been lifted. “They understand.”
The two are all smiles now, swaying to the music, nervously looking but not looking at each other. Rachel can feel that unspoken ‘thing’ between them, heavy and tense, and now she’s not so sure she’s the only one who’s ever noticed it. The arm around her waist is a little tenser now, the palm against her back warmer.
“You can..” Quinn stammers again, licks her lips like she’s nervous or something. “You can put your head on my shoulder.. If you want.”
Rachel nods her head hurriedly because she wants. She really, really wants. She turns her head slightly, places it gently on Quinn’s shoulder. Her eyes close immediately because this ‘thing’ between them has shifted in some intangible way Rachel can’t quite put her finger on. But it feels too good to think about too much, so she just gives in to the sensation of ‘this’ - the music, Quinn’s arm around her waist, the warmth of her body. It’ll end soon. Too soon. Quinn will go back to her side of the room with the Cheerios, and Rachel will retreat to hers. Alone.
“You’re shivering,” Quinn whispers into Rachel’s ear.
“I’m cold.”
“Liar,” Quinn chuckles. She pulls back a little so Rachel’s head is no longer on her shoulder. Rachel tilts her head up. Quinn moves closer until all Rachel can see are hazel eyes peering into her own. “How long have you wanted to ask me to dance?”
There’s a thud in her chest, like her heart suddenly forgot to beat. “Since fifth grade.”
Quinn chuckles softly, smiles. But Rachel doesn’t notice that, she’s too busy staring at the blush slowly darkening Quinn’s cheeks, the widening pupils of her eyes and how it’s Quinn’s heart that’s thudding against her chest like it’s going to explode.
“How long have you wanted to kiss me?”
Rachel doesn’t even have to think about this one. “Since the day I met you.”
“We were three!”
“You remember?”
The pink of Quinn’s cheeks turns a shade darker. She tilts her head down coyly, gazing up at Rachel. “I remember a lot of things about you.”
“Like how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me.”
Quinn rolls her lower lip between her teeth. Rachel feels the thud of Quinn’s heart. She takes the hand on Quinn’s shoulder, slides it over, fingertips just below Quinn’s jaw.
“You can, you know,” Rachel swallows. “Kiss me.”
It’s like the world’s gone into super slow-motion because, even though the distance between them is infinitesimally small, it takes forever to bridge it. Then their lips meet and the world around them disappears all together. Quinn’s lips are warm, her breath warmer and Rachel whimpers at the slightest of contact, a China doll made of the most fragile glass and someone’s pushed her over the edge. But, she doesn’t break, doesn’t shatter into a million pieces because Quinn doesn’t stop and recoil in revulsion like Rachel always imagined.
Because it’s Quinn who deepens the kiss. She lightly suckles Rachel’s upper lip then pulls back just enough to move to the lower one. When her tongue brushes across Rachel’s lips, Rachel’s all yes, threading her fingers into Quinn’s hair and pulling her in.
It’s slow and gentle. Exploratory. Then it’s passionate and exciting, like there’s no going back because now they both know how much the other has wanted this. They don’t hear the song end or the next one begin. They don’t feel the eyes on them or hear the not so quiet whispers.
“Ladies.” The voice of Principal Figgins is like glacial water thrown onto a bon fire. “This is a school dance, not a brothel.”
Rachel knows she’s supposed to be mortified but Quinn’s hand is clasped around her own and she’s being pulled through the crowd. The pace quickens and they’re running, hand in hand, through the hallways of the school, giggling at the tops of their voices.
They make their way outside. Rachel is pressed against the door of Quinn’s car and Quinn kisses her like she’s making up for lost time. It’s only five minutes from the school to Rachel’s house but it feels like an eternity. An eternity Rachel spends staring at the fingers threaded through hers. The most wonderful dream she never wants to wake from.
Then they’re in Rachel’s room, on Rachel’s bed. Like before when Quinn still lived with the Berry’s but so much better because there’s kissing involved now. Kissing and giggling, then just kissing.
The voices inside Rachel’s head are quiet, except the one that was with her all along. The one that dared her to ask Quinn to ‘take a chance on me’.
END