Revenge is a dish best served as humble pie.


Pairing: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

Author: myIllusion

Rating: M.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters-no copyright infringement intended.


This fic is now finished. For those of you who are just now finding it, I wanted to give you an overview.

Firstly: there is foul language at times. There are smutty sex scenes. There are dark and twisty turns.

But, to balance all of that out, is lots of fluff, and romance, and humor, and fun. I hope you enjoy.


Chapter I. Dye laughing.

(On the eve before the first day of school)

Red Hot Chili Peppers, Very Berry Blue and Pressed Lemon.

"She started her run at 2 a.m. Garbed in jet black sweat pants and a matching hoodie, her dark hair was tucked into a knitted black beanie and her azalea sneakers were spray painted black. She did not want be seen at the mall buying black running shoes as she would never do that. But, she did want to be properly camouflaged so she sacrificed her favorite athletic shoes for the greater good of McKinley High.

The run left her slightly winded but she was able to cover the distance from her home to the school in just under 17 minutes. She suspected the adrenalin high she was on had something to do with the over the top level of energy she still maintained. She had 43 minutes to accomplish her task, 17 for the return run with an additional 3 minutes to spare. She allotted herself a total of 80 minutes to be absent from her home to avoid the risk of being caught. One of her parents. She won't say which one. Was obsessive compulsive and had the need to check upon her frequently throughout each night. Crib deaths do not happen to teenagers!

Stealing the master key to the school had been remarkably easy. Figgins always left his keys in his top drawer. And, because she spent so much time in the principals office presenting petitions against the slushie dispenser in the cafeteria, and educational pamphlets on the humane treatment of animals, and notifications of law suits which would be enacted by the ACLU; he often slipped away in an effort to avoid her at all costs. His frequent absence gave her ample time to open the desk drawer and swipe his master key. She quickly made an impression of both sides using a block of quick dry clay. Later, she made a mold and had Peter cast the key for her.

The Master Plan was epic and would evolve in stages that spanned the entire school year. Most of her summer was spent researching; learning new skills and then applying what she absorbed to practical experiments. All the test runs had been done, every item on her list was checked and marked with the standard Gold Star. Rehearsals were finished and it was time for Act I, Scene I: Dye Laughing.

Humming, "this is how you do it" to herself she pulled the small step ladder out of the janitors closet and gently closed the door. Seeing the potential of the darkened empty hallway she glided into a pirouette, then a little side step shuffle - she gracefully dipped the ladder, as though it were her dancing partner and whispered, "are you thinking what I'm thinking? Red Hot Chili Peppers, Very Berry Blueberry and Pressed Lemon Drops!" She giggled with unfettered glee. Shoving the door to the Cheerios locker room open she headed for the showers.

7:15 a.m., first day of school before first bell

Rachel stood at her locker, peering inside and searching, completely absorbed in finding...what? Oh, that's right. Nothing. I'm not looking for anything I'm just pretending to. The waiting was making her a little crazier than her average. Which was, after all, really crazy to begin with. Even she knew that. She could not allow a change in her routine. She needed her top performance for this first Scene. No one could witness any strangeness in her behavior... or rather, notice her differently... um... no one should see her act less strange. Yes that was it. She needed to be crazy as ever and continue to annoy people so they wouldn't think she had anything at all to do with...

Hysterical shrieking could be heard from far far away. Like a distant siren calling, calling,... slowly getting closer and louder, approaching... lighting and thunder. Screech and Bang... smashing lockers, rumbling clouds of thick tension could be felt roiling through the halls; and huffing and snorting could be heard, and the pitter patter of delicate Cheerio feet trampling the whimpering ghosts of students past. Anyone alive had clearly fled. Except for Rachel who was still searching in her locker for that elusive... what? Oh yeah. That elusive nothing.

"HEAR ME NOW LOSERS... when I find out who is responsible for... for...for...FOR THIS...I WILL PERSONALLY light your FUNERAL PYRE.

Quinn Fabray was pointing at herself. Unnecessarily. As if no one would look! Train wreck. You have to look.

Students who had fled the initial fiery onslaught had slowly crept back into the hallway (leaving a very wide girth of space) to glance side eyed at the trio of Cheerios. They were standing back to back to back. Forming a little triangle, hands on hips and glaring in every direction. Scanning the halls like terminators with glowing eyes. A Trio of gummy Cheerios. Red and Blue and Yellow. From head to toe, except for the uniform part.

Rachel was disappointed. She was certain her intel had told her that Quinn took the center shower. The three girls had their own showers separate from the rest of the squad and always insisted on showering first; claiming the hot water would only last so long and they would not take cold showers.

Quinn was all yellow. She was the Pressed Lemon. She had meant for Brittany to get the yellow. And... Santana was Very Berry Blueberry. Ha..he..hehehe... That was kind of funny even though she meant for Santana to get the Red Hot Chili Pepper. Caliente and all that. Besides, Santana was so related to Lucifer. But, darn. Poor Britt was as Red as Riding Hood and looking a little sad. Rachel felt kind of bad that Brittany had to get some Color. Of the three, Brittany had been the only one that had ever acted kindly toward her.

Rachel hadn't noticed that while analyzing the misfortunes of her bad intel she was the only person in the hallway that was openly staring at the Trio. Her mouth was hanging slightly open, her head was tilted curiously to the side and her big brown eyes were wide with fascination.

"What the hell are you gaping at Man Hands?" Santana snapped while striding over to the diva, huffing and puffing like a tiny, giant very berry blueberry (smurf).

Rachel snickered before she could stop herself. And then she started to laugh uncontrollably. She tried, she really tried to contain her mirth but it overcame her all at once and before she knew she was doubled over, holding her stomach and gasping for breath. The laughter was infectious, like a fast spreading virus and infected every student in the hall...except for three.