|But girl you're only a child
Author: Cracon PM
Better slow down girl. - Faberry with a healthy dose of Brittana, Rachel's dads and Judy FabrayRated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor/Romance - Rachel B. & Quinn F. - Words: 7,124 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 48 - Follows: 4 - Published: 03-22-12 - Status: Complete - id: 7948812
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: But girl you're only a child
Rating: PG13 at the most
Pairings / Characters: established Rachel/Quinn, Brittana/Santana, Leroy/Hiram Berry, Judy Fabray
Spoilers: up to and including S03E14 "On my Way" (mainly somewhat changed dialogue from "Hearts" and "On my way" though)
Summary: Better slow down girl.
A/N: Title (as well as summary) is a line from ABBA's "Does your mother know?".
A/N2: The whole fic is incredibly cracky (and AU) and based on a prompt Gleekstorm (on tumblr) gave me.
I've just been craving some nice, funny, senior year Faberry fic with a bit of Brittana thrown in. No trucks or Finchel or any of that bull. My buddy Dave and I were actually talking fic ideas the other day and one of the things we talked about was a senior year Faberry wedding fic with Brittana and Rachel's dads scheming together to get them to hold off. Santana and Leroy rolling their eyes at everything Hiram has to say, Brittany "accidentally" ruining almost every plan they have because she really wants her bridemaids dress. Seriously, Brittana with the Berrymen? That's an opportunity for comedy gold!
It was a nightmare. Nothing short of a good old "six feet tall black monster with twenty arms, a jaw with three rows of teeth and a horribly deformed head with thirteen eyes" nightmare. A nightmare was unfolding right before Santana's very eyes and there was nothing she could do about this. Her heart was hammering painfully in her chest, her hands felt clammy and the blood rushing in her ears pretty much prevented her from hearing anything else.
Which was probably for the best, considering her brain pretty much tuned out after the most important words in that speech were muttered and the appropriate facial expression told her everything she needed to know.
For fuck's sake, she only stumbled into the auditorium by accident!
"... so, Rachel Berry, will you marry me?"
Please God, Buddha, Allah, Shiva, Zeus, Sue Sylvester, whatever deity there actually might be, let her say no!
"Yes! Quinn, of course, yes, a thousand times yes!"
Fuck. Her. Life.
Faberry just got engaged.
Leroy Berry was completely smitten with Quinn Fabray.
Not in a creepy way, god no, definitely in a "she makes my baby happy—although they're probably doing things I'd rather not think about—and she is such a step up from, what was that boy's name at the beginning of sophomore year, Finn? Anyway, they're so in love and I hope they stay that way because I value our discussions about French expressionists and Judy is such a joy to be around and Hiram and I should definitely go to brunch with her again soon" kinda way.
"Do you want some more vegetable stir-fry?" Hiram asked his daughter's girlfriend with a smile.
Quinn politely declined and bit on her bottom lip, suddenly looking nervous.
"Everything all right, Quinn?"
Leroy hadn't seen the girl quite so skittish since was introduced to them in the middle of sophomore year—back when she was still pregnant with little darling baby Beth—as their daughter's girlfriend. Her already pale complexion got even whiter and her eyes constantly flitted to Rachel sitting next to her. Quinn just gave him a quiet nod.
"Dads, we have something to tell you," his daughter simply said and immediately Leroy's brain (and Hiram's probably as well) went into "protective dad overdrive".
"Is it someone at school?" Hiram asked, worried. "Because, pumpkin, if someone is still giving you crap for the two of you being together although it has been nearly two years by now, the ACLU is just a phone call away."
"No," Rachel shook her head, "Surprisingly enough Miss Sylvester has frightened everybody within an inch of their life at this point and our friends in Glee club are wonderfully supportive."
"What is it, honey?" Leroy ventured on, the nagging feeling at the back of his mind still present.
She simply laid their intertwined hands on the table.
Leroy wasn't sure what to make of this. Until one of the lamps of the chandelier caught the light on something on their hands and—
Oh. Dear. Barbra.
"We're engaged," Quinn stuttered, still incredibly jittery. As she should be.
Leroy had just enough time to catch a fainting Hiram before his husband's face made the acquaintance of the carefully crafted dessert.
Judy Fabray was sitting on her favourite armchair, her feet resting on the matching stool. It'd been a gruelling day at the real estate office she worked for. She wasn't a part of the workforce for years and every Tom, Dick and Harry in the office thought that she was just a bored little housewife looking for something to liven up her day.
But she didn't mind, not really. She's a Fabray—although only through marriage, but still—so the almost infamous determinedness helped her getting back into the game pretty quickly after her divorce from Russel.
Judy smirked as she leaned back in the chair and opened the newspaper, dead set on finishing the parts she didn't have the time for that morning.
It's not the job she dreamed of having when she was younger, so much younger, but, coupled with the alimony from Russel, it helped to provide for her youngest daughter and herself. It's also enough to put something on the side for pleasure, namely the bi-weekly brunch date she had with Hiram and Leroy.
At the clearing of a throat Judy startled, the newspaper crinkled in the process.
In front of her stood a nervous Quinn, her left hand almost painfully grabbing Rachel's right.
"Hello, girls." Judy smiled at them, before flipping the paper back up.
"Hi, mom," Quinn croaked at the same time Rachel replied with a cheery, "Good afternoon, Judy."
"Uh, mom, can we talk?"
"Of course," Judy replied, lowering the newspaper again. "What's up?"
"I, uhm, we, you see, Rachel and I ... I mean ... There really is no easy way to say it ..." Her daughter began, stuttering her way through a few sentences that never went farther than two words and leaving Judy with absolutely no information at all.
"What Quinn means to say, Judy, Miss Fabray, ma'am, I mean, Judy," Rachel began as well before spluttering to a stop.
Judy's eyebrows rose on her forehead. Rachel hadn't called her Miss Fabray or ma'am for about two years.
"We're engaged," Quinn rushed out. Obvious relief flooding out of her body for finally having said the words.
Judy blinked at them a few times and let her gaze travel down to their intertwined hands, where she could now make out at least one engagement ring. Indeed.
She leaned further back in her chair and opened her newspaper again.
"That's nice, dear."
Just as Glee was about to start Brittany's phone buzzed, indicating the incoming of a new text message. Deciding that she probably wouldn't miss much if she looked at it—Mister Schue obviously threw some darts at his newspaper this morning and decided to make the words he hit this week's assignment, she couldn't explain 'bridge', 'national' and 'leprechaun' otherwise—Brittany unlocked the touchscreen of her phone and was surprised to see that it was a text from her girlfriend. Who, at that moment, was sitting right next to her, clutching her own phone in her hand.
The message simply read: Code red.
Brittany scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion before her nose crinkled and she leaned towards Santana, whispering.
"You know, we never explicitly talked about this, but I think we really need to discuss it if you want to have sex while your Aunt Flow is visiting."
Santana's eyes widened comically just as Puck, who was unfortunate enough to sit behind them, made a gagging sound.
"No!" Santana hissed. "That's not—ew, no, that's definitely not what I meant."
Brittany exhaled, relieved. "Thank you."
Santana sighed softly before stealthily pointing at Rachel and Quinn, who were sitting in the row in front of them. "That's code red."
"Oh, you mean, like Rachel wants to have sex when Qui—"
"Dear lord, make her stop!" Puck huffed aggravated before scooting his chair far away from them.
"No, Britt," Santana hissed again, her teeth grinding together. "Nobody's having sex—"
"That's a pity, though."
"Is there a problem, Santana?" Mister Schuester asked from his place on the piano bench.
"Too many to count and 95% of them are in this room," Santana muttered back, slumping down in her chair.
"Fellow Glee clubbers, while I know that time is of the essence with Regionals so fast approaching, I just ask you for a moment of your time; Quinn and I have an announcement to make," Rachel cut in before Schue could even attempt to reprimand Santana.
"Oh, okay. You have the floor, guys," he smiled as Rachel dragged her girlfriend to the middle of the floor.
"Quinn and I are proud to announce—that we've finally gotten engaged!" Rachel exclaimed happily, holding both of their hands up, their engagement rings sparkling in the dim light of the tube lights.
The choir room errupted in a collective "What?"
"When's the baby's due date?" Puck asked, only to be shot down with a snarled "Really, Puckerman?" from Santana.
"Guys, have you both carefully thought this through?" Schue questioned.
"Yes, and our parents are totally behind us, although Rachel's daddy did react a bit histrionically to the news," Quinn replied.
The club launched into discussions amongst themselves while both girls calmly stood next to each other, enduring their scrutiny.
"When's the wedding?" Tina asked, ultimately voicing the thought of everyone in the room.
"The date's TBD, but I can assure all of you that we're going to have a very simply and elegant ceremony which all of you are, of course, invited to."
"That," Santana sighed defeatedly in Brittany's direction, "Was what I meant with code red."
"Oh," Brittany chirped, "You mean our bridesmaids dresses are going to be red? Awesome!"
"This is a nightmare," Hiram muttered under his breath as he kept on devouring the food on his plate with a speed that made his husband look slightly green around the gills. "An absolute nightmare. And I saw 'Spider-Man the Musical'!"
Leroy leaned towards their guest. "He always eats a lot when he's stressed."
"I think it's cute," Judy whispered, daintily picking up her cup of tea.
Hiram shot her a glare, immediately Judy backpedalled. "The girls wanting to get married, I mean, not you eating your weight in scones."
"There is nothing cute about this. We have to stop them! They're just kids, they're not even eighteen yet!" Hiram growled, his eyes menacing behind his glasses.
Judy just shook her head. "You know how stubborn they both can be. If you just tell them that they can't do it they'll wait for a moment when neither of us is looking and elope to the next place that lets them get married. Possibly Vegas," she pondered.
"A Vegas marriage isn't something I ever want to appear in my baby's future biography," Hiram muttered, aggressively buttering his scone and putting some lemon curd on it while scowling at the baked goods.
The three adults sat in silence, thinking about what they could possibly do.
"You know," Leroy began, tapping his left index finger against his chin. "Maybe we're going about this the wrong way."
"What do you mean?" Hiram asked, setting his cup of coffee down on the table.
"Maybe we should do the exact opposite. Encourage them to live together for a while, let them see how difficult it is to be in an adult relationship and how delusional they're being. It certainly won't help if we're lecturing them on it, they need to come to the conclusion themselves. Then the wedding will be off in seconds. Psychological warfare, my friends."
Judy frowned. "I don't think—"
"We want in," a voice suddenly interrupted her and the trio looked up in the face of an excited Santana, Brittany standing next to her, waving to the adults.
Judy's frown deepened. "Santana—"
"I'm sorry, Miss Fabray, I know they're my friends and I should be supportive and all, but I just can't. They're making a huge mistake. So, Mister B, what do you have in mind?" She smirked.
Leroy smirked back.
"Also, just for the next time, can we please meet at Breadstix instead of this English Tea Time thing?"
"You want to be my maid of honour?" Rachel stared at the other girl, disbelief clearly written all over her face.
"Of course," Santana answered casually from her seat next to Rachel, flourishing her right hand that still had her emery board in it. "It works out perfectly, doesn't it? Britt and I are your best friends—"
"Actually, Kurt is my—" Rachel tried to interrupt, but Santana just continued as if she didn't hear her.
"You're both girls so you both need bridesmaids and you both need a maid of honour. This way Britt and I don't have to fight each other for the job. Like I said, perfect."
"But you seemed to be so against our marriage—"
"Look, Berry, Rachel," Santana said sweetly. "You're my girl Quinn's girl, okay? That was all kind of weird for me two years ago, and occasionally it still is, but she loves you. That's all that matters, okay? I mean, that girl is in so deep chances are that I'll never see her get married again if you two are ever going to break up. And I am not going to miss a once in a lifetime event like this one. Also, life's too short. I mean, who knows, tomorrow you could get hit by a truck. So, you have my blessing."
Rachel's eyes began to water and Santana hurriedly stood up, getting some distance between them.
"Just call me for the bridesmaids dress fitting, okay?" She said as she exited the cafeteria.
Santana smirked as soon as her back was turned to Rachel.
Damn. She should've gotten an Emmy for that performance.
Judy and Quinn applauded when Rachel and her dads finished their rendition of "You're the top".
"That was wonderful, Rach," Quinn beamed as she enveloped her smiling girlfriend in a hug.
"It really was," Judy nodded. "How come we don't do this at home, Quinnie?"
"Ah, yes, of course, dear."
"Thank you both for joining us in our nightly tradition of turning just plain old dinner in dinner theatre," Rachel exclaimed happily, still in Quinn's arms.
"And now dinner is served!" Leroy continued, leading the group to the dining area.
"I just have to say, I don't know how you did it, but this vegan fake duck tofu thingy was divine, Hiram," Judy said, delicately wiping her mouth with her napkin. "And your house, as always, is exquisite. Did you redecorate since the last time I was here?"
"Thank you sweety. Nate Berkus, a dear dear friend."
"That's not true," Leroy quickly interrupted.
"Well, he's right. As always. But it feels like he is. I love his designs so much. Look around, almost everything in the dining room is by him," Hiram continued with a flourish of his hands.
"It is absolutely wonderful," Judy agreed.
"But enough about that. I say that this very special Valentine's Day calls for a toast for Rachel and Quinn!" Hiram exlaimed, raising his glas. "Quinn, you're a very lovely, bright young woman, whom Leroy and I simply adore, and it gives us so much joy to see you make our little Racheles so happy. Let me tell you the secret of a long and happy marriage."
The girls leaned forward, hanging on Hiram's every word.
"Never go to bed—without moisturising."
Quinn and Rachel looked at each other before they looked back at Hiram, confused.
"What, you thought I'd say 'Never go to bed angry'?"
"Okay, let's get back on track here," Leroy cut it, standing up. "A toast to the ... Fabray-Berry clan! Huh, what do you know, Berry-Fabray, Fabray-Berry, Faberry, that would actually make a nice portmanteau."
"Leroy," Hiram stressed, tapping his fingers on the table in poorly disguised anger.
"Right, of course. So! To Quinn and Rachel! We love you both so very very much."
"We do, bubele," Hiram added, putting his hand on Quinn's shoulder and squeezing gently.
"To Quinn and Rachel," Judy raised her glass, filled with water, clinking it together with the others.
"Now, dessert! You know what we've got? We got velvetty Vienetta. And then we gonna commence with the teenage lovemaking."
The table fell silent, the only sounds coming from the entertainment system still playing music in the background.
"Nah, just kidding," Hiram continued with a chuckle, the others slowly joining in, "We don't have Vienetta, they discontinued that years ago. We're gonna go straight to the teenage lovemaking."
"I'm sorry, what?" Rachel spluttered.
"Wait, what are you talking about?" Quinn asked, her eyes wide.
"I took the liberty of packing a bag for you, Quinnie. I brought your toothbrush and your jammies. You just sleep in an old Cheerios t-shirt and shorts, right?"
Just as Quinn was about to protest Leroy cut in. "You're getting married. You're not kids anymore. As far as we're concerned you're adults. So, knock yourselves out."
"We're all going to stay here, watch a movie or put on some music. Just so you don't think that we're trying to listen in," Hiram said.
"I don't hear any angry shouting. It's completely silent," Hiram whispered from his position at the staircase.
"Give it some time, they've only been upstairs for thirty minutes. Do you need a Xanax?" Leroy answered, handing over another card in his game of Go Fish with Judy.
"I already took three. Do you know what they could've been doing for at least twenty-five of those minutes? What if she's defiling our baby!" Hiram whispered heatedly over the music playing in the background, gesturing upstairs.
"Relax, they're smart enough, and probably embarrassed enough, not to 'commence with the teenage lovemaking' while we're all still within earshot." Judy said. "Do you have any fours?"
"That's it. It's this stupid plan. We've never lied to her like this before. Honesty, Respect, Dance. Those are the foundations of the Berry family," Hiram mumbled, his right foot on the lowest step, "I'm going in."
"Wait!" Leroy quickly stood up and rushed towards him. "You can't."
"Honey, they could be ... doing it right now, under our roof!"
Leroy raised one eyebrow. "And you think they didn't already in the last two years they've been together?"
Hiram visibly deflated. "No, you're right."
"Besides," Judy piped up, having moved towards the two men, "You can't just barge in now. First of all, we pretty much gave them a free pass. And second of all, us barging in now would destroy the plan. We can't say that we're treating them like adults who are prone to making their own mistakes and then just check up on them every five minutes. Every teenager does the exact opposite of what their parents are telling them."
"Yes," Hiram grumbled, making his way back towards the couch. "You're right. It's too bad, I like Quinn."
"Thank you. And no one is saying they have to break up. They're just too young to get married. As long as we keep doing what we're doing they'll both come around eventually and see it our way. Reverse psychology. It's the only way. For now though, I think that this part of our plan failed. It's time to call in Santana," Judy said, getting her cellphone out of her purse and dialing number four of her speed dial.
"Santana, we need some time to regroup. It's time to innitiate your Plan B in the meantime."
"So, can you tell me again what our plan is?" Brittany asked, sitting indian style next to Santana on her bed.
"It's easy," Santana said patiently, stretching on her bed all big cat like. "We need to find out when and where they want to have this atrocious wedding. And then we're going to stop it. Until then we'll play nice and encourage this travesty."
Brittany pouted and sighed. "Okay."
"Okay, so I was thinking we'll go to the mall with them this Saturday, snoop around a bit in their phones or, god forbid, Berry's hideous pink dayplanner. I'm sure they wrote something down. A date, a heart, a colour for the dresses, anything."
"Can't we just tell them that we think it's too soon for them to get married?"
"No, Britt-Britt. You know how Berry is. They'll probably elope to Narnia and get married there."
"We're so glad you suggested going to the Lima Mall, Santana!" Rachel grinned, clutching Quinn's left arm.
Quinn, who looked like she just rolled out of bed and was involuntarily accompanying her fiancé to the mall.
"So glad. Ecstatic," Quinn mumbled, rubbing some sleep out of her eyes with her free hand. "Especially at eight AM on a Saturday."
"Hey, I'm always up for spending some time with my best friends," Santana grinned cheekily.
They went to Starbucks first, because even Santana had to admit that a Quinn without the appropriate caffeine intake was a scary Quinn.
Then they made their way through several clothing stores.
"What are we even looking for?" Quinn whined three stores later.
"Oh, you know, just browsing," Santana replied nonchalantly, perusing the row of tops in front of her. "And waiting for both of you to go and try something on so I can look in your purses," she mumbles to herself.
"Did you say something?"
"Nope! Oh look, I think this top would go wonderfully with your complexion!"
Quinn stared at the offered garment. "Santana, it's chartreuse."
Santana's gaze dropped down to the top she had hurriedly pulled from the rack. "I'm aware of that."
Quinn raised one eyebrow.
"So forgive me for confusing you with a water corpse again. You need to get out more."
"This is getting us absolutely nowhere," Santana whispered to Brittany as soon as both Quinn and Rachel were distracted and browsed through some dresses. "We need to get them both in a changing room. Or in the same one. At this point I really don't care anymore."
Brittany nodded sagely before making her way to the two other girls, randomly picking out clothes left and right.
"I think you should try these on," she simply said to them. "Also, I really like this colour," she continued, pointing to a red dress.
They both regarded her somewhat sceptically, but Brittany simply kept on staring at them so they admitted defeat and moved towards the changing rooms.
"I'll keep an eye on your purses, I promise!" Brittany smiled before shoving them both inside.
"And you couldn't have done that a few hours ago?" Santana whispered to her, nonplussed.
"Well, you didn't ask."
"This is pointless," Santana sighed quietly, leafing through Rachel's day planner as they hid in a cubicle a bit away from the other two. "I've been going backwards through this thing from after graduation until now and the only things she's written in are vocal and dance lessons and the occasional celebrity birthday. Did you know that Barbra Streisand is turning seventy this year?" Sanana asked, showing Brittany the page in April with the heavily circled date and balloon stickers.
Brittany just hummed, her concentration still on the screen of Quinn's phone. If only Santana knew that she was playing Angry Birds instead of going through her calendar.
"There's absolutely nothing useful in thi—AHA!" Santana suddenly exclaimed triumphantly, holding up the day planner. "Here! A vomit-worthy amount of hearts and Quinn's name. And the date is—oh my god, it's just a few days away. Maybe they actually were planning on eloping! Is there something on the phone as well?"
Startled, Brittany looked down at the planner, frowning.
"Wait. I think—"
A knock interrupted her. "Britt, Tana, are you in there?"
Santana's eyes widened in horror. "Quick," she whispered, "They mustn't know that we snooped through their stuff. Kiss me!"
Brittany obliged but was only able to get a few kisses in until they heard the discussion outside the cubicle.
"But the door is open, Quinn," Rachel said from the other side of the door.
"I know. But neither of them answered. I've walked in on my fair share of Brittana action in this life, I'm not opening it," Quinn reasoned.
"Don't be such a scaredy-cat," Rachel teased as she pushed the door open. "Oh."
Brittany isn't sure when exactly Santana managed to get her hands inside her now open jeans, but it didn't really matter anyway.
Santana lazily pulled her lips away from Brittany's to turn towards a rapidly blushing Rachel.
"Go away, Berry. We'll be outside in a few."
"Told you," Quinn chuckled, her back visible through the open door.
"This is a disaster," Hiram murmured, breaking another breadstick in half. "This is worse than Barbra's appearance in 'Little Fockers'!"
"Barbra?" Brittany asked, tilting her head towards her girlfriend, confused.
"Streisand," Santana answered. Brittany just nodded.
"And you're absolutely sure?" Leroy was concerned.
"Absolutely," Santana nodded. Brittany just stared at her milkshake.
"Okay, that's it. I'm pulling the plug," Judy exclaimed hotly.
"Calm down, Miss Fabray," Brittany tried to sooth her.
"Calm down? Our kids are getting hitched. We screwed up big time. We started playing this crazy reverse psychology game with them and look where we are!"
"Oh, the blame game? This will be fun. Bring it, Judy," Hiram chuckled.
"But, I mean, how did we screw up?" Leroy asked. "By raising two kind, wonderful, independently minded children?"
"I agree with Judy," Hiram interrupted his husband. "They're in love, wunderbar. But they're nowhere near ready for this kind of commitment."
Santana exhaled. "At least we're all still here, in Lima. The truth is, if you'd come down hard on them? They would've gone behind your back and eloped. I know both of them. Once they put their minds on something there is no way getting them off of it."
Hiram sighed. "At this point not even Patti LuPone could talk Rachel out of marrying Quinn."
"Barbra could," Leroy cut in.
"How about," Hiram started, "On the day they wanna get hitched I'll fake an epileptic shock—"
"You're not epileptic, honey."
"That's why I'm gonna fake it."
"Let's not get completely ridiculous and panic here," Santana said, rolling her eyes at the three adults. "We still have a few days to stop them from tying the knot. Okay. They don't know that we know. And if it comes to the worst you'll just have to stop them."
"What are we doing here?" Brittany asked her girlfriend. The two of them were hiding behind some of the bushes that have been artistically planted inside the Mall court.
"I overheard Berry talking to Q about going to the mall again and shopping for clothes," Santana answered, getting our her field glasses. "So we're going to observe and intervene at the appropriate times. They won't even notice we're here."
"And you think sitting in the middle of the food court with binoculars won't even be suspicious a little bit, at least to the security guard right behind us?" Brittany asked again, observing her friends, who were just browsing through some sun dresses that were on sale, through her binoculars.
" ... Damn."
"What am I supposed to do with this phone?" Brittany turned the new cellphone in her hand over a few times, a puzzled look on her face.
"Brittany, here is the plan," Hiram said from his place next to her on the Berry's couch. "You're going to call my little, lovely rose, disguise your voice and tell her that you're calling for an ad adgency whose target group are young women and then you're asking her these questions." He handed her a notepad.
Next to him, perched on the arm of the couch, Santana rolled her eyes. "I still think those are stupid questions."
"Well, I don't hear you surging forward with the ultimate idea to end this madness, fraylin."
Santana narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't know what you just said but I don't appreciate the tone you said it in."
"Shhhht, I'm dialing!" Brittany hushed them.
Immediately Santana and Hiram fell silent, leaning closer to listen in to the conversation as Leroy rolled his eyes and went back in the kitchen to prepare dinner.
"Hi! Hello, this is, uhm," Brittany stuttered as she looked on the notepad. Only the questions were written on it. Why didn't they just give her a fake name, too? "This is Regina Phalange. From Friendsco. May I speak with Rachel Berry? Please."
A pause, then Brittany continued.
"Uhuh, excellent. Miss Berry, we are a relatively new ad agency whose target group are young women, like yourself, who are ready to tackle the entertainment industry and take it by storm. You were chosen for this due to your Glee club's appearance at Nationals last year. Do you have some time to answer my questions?"
"Really?" Santana hissed towards a frowning Hiram while Brittany motioned for her to be quiet.
"Wonderful. Okay, so, first things first, how old are you?—Almost eighteen? All right. So I guess you're graduating this summer then?—Yes, yes indeed, that is wonderful. What are your plans after graduation?—NYADA, why yes, that is excellent. May I just congratulate you on that, that musn't have been easy.—Yes, why thank you, it always makes me proud to see a young and promising performer in the making. So, what would you say is your marital status?—Engaged, you say? Now, that is surprising, at your age, I mean. Quinn must be amazing in the sack."
Hiram and Santana facepalmed in synch as Leroy hurried over from the kitchen and ended the call.
"Why am I dressed up like this?" Brittany asked. The blue denim overalls, borrowed from her girlfriend, were a bit too short for her. Her rainbow-coloured hooped socks showed and the short-haired brunette wig she was wearing made her head itch.
"This is ridiculous," Hiram noted. "Even for me, okay, and several of my very good friends are drag queens."
"I don't hear you surging forward with the ultimate idea to end this madness," Santana mocked him while she tried to stop Brittany from scratching her head, lest the wig slipped out of place.
Hiram narrowed his eyes at her. "Listen here, young lady, as long as you're in my car there will be no mocking me."
"Do I really have to go outside like this?" Brittany asked, trying to scratch her head, only for her hand to be instantly batted away by Santana who had just finished putting a nametag on the overall.
"Yes, baby, but it's only for a short time. You just go in there, give Streisand the flowers, tell her they're from a secret admirer and get out again. We'll go to the Cheerios' locker rooms afterwards to change, okay?"
"Okay," Brittany sighed. As soon as she was outside the car she held her hand open so Santana could give her the bouquet she made her pick out earlier. She slipped the ridiculously big sunglasses on and made her way inside the school.
Once there she immediately spotted Rachel and Quinn, standing at Quinn's locker, giggling over something Rachel just said.
"Hey," she greeted them, her voice considerably lower than her normal voice.
"Hello?" Quinn said back, instantly suspicious of her get-up. "Who are you?"
"The name's Jane," Brittany said, pointing at her nametag. "From Isles Bloems. I have a bouquet here for ... Rachel Berry?" She continued, pretending to read her delivery list.
Rachel hummed. "That's me."
"Great, these are for you." Brittany handed her the flowers.
"Lilys and Gardenias? Who are they from?" Rachel asked, checking for a card but not finding one.
While she was being busy admiring the flowers Brittany slid her sunglasses down, just enough to look into Quinn's eyes and to wink at her, grinning when Quinn recognised her.
"They're from somebody who loves you very much," Brittany smiled at Rachel before she turned around to make her way to the school's exit.
"Aw, Quinn, honey," she heard Rachel cooing behind her, "Flowers, how quaint. You shouldn't have."
"I don't understand," Leroy fumed, pacing the living room a few days later. "Everything we tried didn't work. And they're planning to elope tomorrow! I saw my pumpkin buying groceries!"
"There's only one thing we can do now," Santana stated ominously.
"What's that?" Hiram asked, drowning his sorrows of his only daughter eloping at the tender age of seventeen with a huge margarita.
Santana was interrupted by Brittany's phone chirping. Her girlfriend looked at it, pouted, and put it down again.
"What was that, Britt?"
"I've been playing Words with Friends with Quinn for some time now. I'm trying to put 'don't get married' with my tiles, but I never get the right letters."
Santana smiled at her indulgently before turning back to the parents.
"Like I said, there's only one thing we can do. We have to tie them to their beds and not let them out of our sight. Maybe then they'll come to their senses."
It was an almost perfect plan. Except for the fact that it was the weekend and hence the weekly rotating sleepover Rachel and Quinn were having for almost two years.
But, whatever. They were both still in Lima and Santana had enough rope, duct tape and anaesthetic for both of them. (What use is a surgeon in the family if she can't raid his medicine cabinet every once in a while?)
When Rachel and Quinn finally woke up, they each found themselves bound and gagged to a chair downstairs in the Berry's Oscar Room.
Instantly both of them tugged at their restraints, with no success. The ropes were tightly wound around their ankles and wrists and then to the chairs; and it would be impossible to get the duct tape off their mouths without a free hand.
A lamp glared into their eyes from the little stage and they weren't able to make out anything else in the room, except for each other and the aforementioned stage.
"You see, we really hoped that it didn't need to come to this, but you didn't leave us any other choice," Santana's disembodied voice calmly said.
Quinn glowered and growled in the general direction of the stage and at, what she hoped, Santana.
"Pumpkin, we love you both very much, but we can't let this go on any longer," Leroy said.
Rachel's eyes widened. Her fathers were in on this crazy scheme, too? It wasn't just their nut job friend?
Someone flicked the light switched and the two girls were momentarily blinded by the bright lights, before their eyes adjusted and they were finally able to make out who was holding them captive.
Their parents, Brittany and Santana were all staring back at them.
Santana slowly walked towards them and quickly ripped the duct tape off before retreating again. The way Quinn was looking at them made her fear for her fingers.
"What would even prompt this insanity," Quinn got out through gritted teeth.
"You were planning on eloping today. Do you really think I would've let you go through with this?" Santana shot back, crumpling the duct tape into a ball and flinging it at Quinn's forehead. "For all your straight A's and as our soon to be Valedictorian, you are pretty stupid."
Quinn narrowed her eyes. "I surely haven't thought about eloping before, but now I'm seriously considering it," she said, still trying to get out of the restraints.
Next to her Rachel had long ago given up the struggle and just looked at the trio of parents in disapproval.
"To be perfectly honest I expected this kind of hare-brained scheme of Santana, but this has to be a new low for all of the parental figures currently present."
"Bubele, you have to understand," Hiram began, kneeling in front of his daughter, his hands on her knees. "First your engagement to Quinn, and then the two of you getting ready to elope today to get hitched somewhere? We all just panicked."
"Why is everybody talking about us getting married today?" Quinn exclaimed. If she could've thrown her hands in the air for emphasis, she would've.
"Why else did you put a ring on it, Q? Why else would there be a sickening amount of hearts and your name circled in Streisand's day planner for today?" Santana replied hotly, her arms crossed in front of her chest as her right foot tapped on the ground while she stared Quinn down.
Quinn blinked at her before she turned her head towards her girlfriend, who tried to hide her rapidly blushing face behind a curtain of brown hair. Quinn's face softened visibly as she kept her gaze on Rachel.
"We were about to celebrate an anniversary today. For fear of scrutiny I'd rather not disclose which one. But rest assured that absolutely no one was planning on eloping."
"But the provisions? The new clothes?" Leroy asked confused.
"It was supposed to be a simple picknick," Rachel huffed, her head tilted back to look at the ceiling. "It's the beginning of spring and coincidentally the weather collaborated. I just wanted to treat my girlfriend to a nice picknick."
Judy joined the others in front of the girls, wringing her hands. "But why pop the question while you're both still in school, Quinnie? You almost gave everyone a heart attack."
"Because I do wanna marry Rachel, some day," Quinn admitted, softly smiling at Rachel. Rachel just smiled back. No over the top showface smile, just a genuine, small smile.
Santana almost wanted to gag.
"Our engagement rings are actually rather some kind of promise rings than actual 'We're going to get married soon' rings. It's a promise that, even though we'll only be about two hours apart in college and things may get rough in that time because we won't be able to see each other as much as we'd like, at the end, when we both made it individually and can finally be together again afterwards, we'll get married when the time is right," Quinn continued.
Brittany aww'ed softly.
"I'm disappointed that you all thought we'd be irresponsible enough to actually get married in High School," Rachel started. "There's a reason we had yet to announce a date for the wedding. The reason for telling the Glee club was that they better keep their schedule open for a wedding and all be there. I just cannot believe that you—" Before she could work herself up to a tirade Santana slapped her right hand over Rachel's mouth.
"We get it. We fucked up. No need to lecture us about it now." Santana smirked as Rachel glared at her hand in disgust. "Well," Santana said as she finally made her way towards her chair again. "I have to say that this whole operation was a waste of my time."
"Does this mean I'm not getting my red bridesmaids dress?" Brittany asked, pouting at Quinn.
Quinn chuckled. "You'll get your bridesmaids dress, Britt. Although you'll have to wait a few more years for it. And no colour scheme has been decided yet, it's way too early for that."
Brittany hummed. "It was kinda fun sabotaging all of their plans and schemes, though. I mean, I really want that dress, why would I even try to get you two to cancel your wedding then?"
Santana whipped around to her girlfriend, her eyes wide in disbelief. "You wrecked our plans?"
Brittany rolled her eyes. "Well, it's not like they were spectacular plans to begin with ..."
"Speaking of plans," Rachel began. "Now that the inquisition is over, can we please be excused and have our picknick? I think these special circumstances allow for the curfew to be pushed back for a few hours, don't you think so too, fathers?"
The two men looked at their daughter, both properly chastised. "Of course, pumpkin." They quickly unraveled the knots and accompanied the girls upstairs, Judy coming along with them; the three of them apologising the whole time for overreacting and trying to compensate the girls by making all kind of curfew concessions.
Santana sighed as she let herself fall down on the couch that stood against one of the walls. "This really has been an enormous waste of time."
Brittany sat down next to her feet, propping them up on her lap. "If you had just let me speak, I could've told you way back that they'd just be celebrating an anniversary today."
"You could've just told me, Britt," Santana sighed, at the same time tired and exasperated. She flung her arm over her eyes in hopes of blocking out the last week from her mind.
"Well," Brittany drawled, tickling the soles of her girlfriend's feet, "You didn't ask."