A/N: Alright. So this idea for a small one chapter story popped into my head last night. I intended this as a single chapter kind of deal since I have no idea where it would/could go. But it's basically an AU where Quinn/Rachel are leading double lives as agents while in the real world they are juniors at McKinley in Glee Club and they hate each other - I thought it would make for an interesting story.
Let me know what you all think. Still debating on whether or not I should continue. Hope someone finds it interesting ha-ha.
"Come back here!"
Quinn was calling for the shorter agent. Her corset was tightening around her ribs, and she coughed through the smoke.
The shorter girl wasn't listening, and moved farther down the alley, scanning the darkness ominously.
She flinched – she hated working with Berry – that was a lie, if she could be honest, she loved it. The brunette was fiery and exhilarating – and damn hot. But they were on a mission, and she couldn't have Rachel leading them blindly into avoidable traps. She cleared through the smoke with a hand over her nose and mouth as she ran over to Rachel's side against the damp alley wall.
"I told you to come back!"
"And? If you had been paying attention after setting off that unnecessary explosion, you would have noticed that our target exited travelling in this direction."
She hated when Berry was right – she rolled her eyes and pulled out a small device from her bosom. It really was the only place that she could store small items in her current garb. She winced as she struggled to pull the offending device out of her cleavage.
"Curse the person who invented corsets, goddam – I don't understand how women did this on a regular basis."
"Quinn, we're supposed to be in character – if you act out of the ordinary, they will figure us out, get your shit together."
Another thing she hated – when Berry patronized her during a mission. And then she heard scuffling in the far distance – figures could be seen approaching through the hazy night fog and smoke. Rachel latched a clutching hand to Quinn's arm, pulling the two of them farther into the wall and out of direct eyesight.
Through her misted eyes Quinn made out the forms of Monsieur Chevalier – and his henchmen coming closer – his giant fur coat swayed with his grand form, and his walking cane made methodical hits to the cobblestone pavement. His spectacled eye beamed in the moonlight – and his crooked grin mocked their hidden glances.
"Je sais que vous êtes là les filles"
His voice trilled against the cold breeze of the night. Quinn could feel the hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end with anticipation. Rachel clenched at her arm tighter as she steeled herself.
"Girls, I know you 'ar here – do not play zilly games with me, zey will not end well darlings."
And then with the slightest touch of movement Rachel was gone – her ample form moving forward stealthily through the smoke – Quinn taking the hint, took the opposite wall, and moved forward.
"That explosion was a nice trick, but it was unnecessary and juvenile – ze pretty blonde's idea I'm zure." He was laughing now as he walked, his cane still making rhythmic motions against the old, cracked pavement.
Quinn could sense Rachel's form in front of her moving against the wall, she clutched at the small pistol attached to her upper thigh, tucked in to her garter. She gripped for it, and as she pulled it out she aimed it above her shoulder with skill and precision – all that agent training wasn't for nothing. She covered Rachel as they moved forward against the mist.
She tripped over a small ledge in her tight heels and wheeled around, careening into the wall with a silent thud, her head ached, and her ears where still ringing from the unnaturally high decibel explosion still flaming in the near distance. But she kept her steady rhythm as she followed after Rachel. And soon they were hidden directly in front of Monsieur Chevalier and his henchman.
Rachel ran forward – Quinn ducked, pistol outstretched, and then there was another explosion and everything went smoky and hazy again – "I shouldn't have set that second bomb" Quinn thought against the cement. She could feel Rachel running up to her side amidst the rubble and smoke.
"We've got to get out of here, they're onto us, we've been compromised."
Quinn nodded back, and fumbled for her receiver. It was also in her bosom. She reached down into her 1850's era visage and groped around sloppily for the small metal button. She found it a few seconds later and exhaled – The two girls pressed it together, hands interlocked and soon there was that unnatural buzzing in their heads, and that weird tingling up their spines…and poof. They had completely vanished.
Monsieur Chevalier ran up to the location where he heard the voices, daggers outstretched in hand ready to fight, only to discover that the mystery girls who had been tracking him for weeks were gone. He looked down the alleyway finding nothing, until he ran a hand along the dirty, rubble strewn cobblestones – his fingers graced over a small book of matches – he read them curiously:
"Weeddles Bar & Grill : We Make it, You Taste it! – Contact Us: (419) 537-0427
520 S. Industrial, Lima, Ohio, USA 45801"
"Je vais vous trouve, vous pouvez compter sur elle"
He drawled dangerously as he proffered the item into his large fur coat pocket. Tapping the cobblestones ominously as he ambled away down the alley – disappearing into the London night.
"Shit, that was a bust."
Quinn's voice was hoarse and unsteady as she awoke. Her head was still in the device and she could feel the wires digging into her scalp as she blinked her eyes open warily. She turned her head and could see Rachel doing much the same thing. The blonde pulled the wires and helmet off of her head before attending to Rachel's. When she sighed she smiled and looked down, seeing her normal garb – skinny jeans, a zip up hoodie and flats – that corset had been murder.
"If it weren't for you and your ridiculous need to blow everything up– I'm sure we may have actually succeeded and come back with something concrete."
Rachel's eyes were harsh as she bore into the blonde before fishing off the rest of her wires and sitting up in the small chair she had been fitted too. Her skin was fresh and dewy, but Quinn could already mark out the small bruises along her lower thighs and forearms – indirect traumatic contusions they called them. She looked down and spotted a few of her own, blossoming alongside her arms, she was sure she'd find a couple along her ribs that night in the shower.
"Hey – let me look at your arms."
Rachel huffed, before crossing her forearms across her sweater-clad chest in mock indignation. Quinn smiled – the brunette never stayed too angry for long. She walked over to her slowly, a small smile spreading over her face, and she reached out and grabbed Rachel's arms tentatively, brushing her fingertips over small button bruises and scrapes. She brought one tan arm up and placed small, lingering kisses to every blemish – her cool lips tasting and nursing away the pain in each one before replacing said arm, and repeating the gesture on the other.
Rachel sighed into her – her body was tired – hell Quinn's was tired. It wasn't every day that you were sent through time and space via subconscious introspective technology – your average junior also wasn't a trained combatant and global agent for a secret firm specializing in the tracking and containment of dangerous criminals and technological weapons. It was exhausting work – even more so, when they had to go to school amid the chaos, feigning indifference and nonchalance while the world raged around them and within them. Every dream was an entrance into a new era – they traveled between the centuries tracking terrorists and vandals, just last week – they apprehended hidden weapons in the tombs at the Valley of the Kings in Egypt.
And for the past year – their target – Monsieur Chevalier, had evaded them. He has disappeared between the eras and every time they catch a lead – he vanishes into thin air. Leaving destruction and loss in his wake at every turn. He is a dangerous man, and he has the knowledge of dangerous weaponry and skill at his hands.
But as Quinn kissed away the pain – the thoughts of their mission evaded the diva's mind as she closed her eyes and shut off the buzzing in her brain – relishing in the here and now. They still had class – they'd done this small reconnaissance mission over their lunch period after a call from their superior agent about the lead. Their mission had bled over and now they had missed both fourth and fifth period – she leaned closer into Quinn as they stood together in Quinn's basement – their headquarters and lab for missions, reconnaissance and technological testing.
"We have to get back to school."
Her voice was faint as she whispered. Quinn looked up from Rachel's arms, her hazel gaze landing on brown irises before she smiled again. She leaned up, kissing the brunette's eyelids and nose softly as she smiled.
"School is for normal people – we are anything but normal."
Rachel smiled in return, enveloping her now increasingly sore arms around Quinn's waist pulling her in closer. The blonde winced at the pain – her bruises were blossoming beneath her hoodie and her muscles began to drag at the exhaustion – missions really took a lot out of them. The brunette looked softly back into Quinn's eyes, worry etched across her face before she placed cooling fingers at the blonde's lower back, moving them with pressure across taught muscles. The blonde exhaled at the feeling, closing her eyes.
"That feels fantastic – I don't know if I'll be able to make it in Wilson's class once we get back – I'm about to pass out."
"Same here – It really pisses me off that he got away." Quinn blushed embarrassingly as she cradled her head into Rachel's warm neck.
"Sor' 'bout da exploshuns"
She mumbled against tan skin. Rachel laughed pulling Quinn's face up from her neck and kissing her quickly against her lips one, two times.
"You're such a pyro."
Quinn smiled devilishly again before returning the kiss – deepening it this time, letting her lips move gingerly – lazily over Rachel's. They were both tired and it showed through their embrace and their touches. They kissed softly and with great care – pouring out all of their love into one another as fingers graced soft skin and bodies tingled.
Their lips parted and Quinn could feel Rachel's hot breath tickling her face as they stood together, foreheads connecting as her eyes fluttered shut in exhaustion. She really didn't feel like going back to McKinley today – another day of feigning indifference to Rachel Berry, and shunning her in the hallways – it hurt to do it, but she knew it was all a front. Ways too keep the normalcy in their wild, unyielding lives – at least they had their secret life, their secret affair would have to stay mum for now.
Rachel let go of Quinn softly and the blonde immediately missed the contact but she knew it had been coming. The two of them silently grabbed their backpacks and school stuff, ushering away their pistols and body weapons into hidden cupboards and wall mounts – they worked quickly to stow away their gear – quickly covering up their shared array of bruises and cuts with salves and lotions before powdering over them with make-up. And once everything was in order, they walked out of the secret entrance to the underground basement, coming into view of Quinn's red BMW 1-series convertible. Rachel smirked as she watched her partner in crime get in, before she made her way over to her silver Hyundai Accent.
"See you in the halls Agent Berry." Quinn called out as she pulled out of her driveway. Saddened to see the brunette go.
Rachel smiled back as the two girls made their way down empty Lima streets back to McKinley – it was an odd feeling – to feel more secure in your secret life, than you did in the real one. It always hurt Rachel's heart to watch her closest friend, confidant, and girlfriend have to close her off every day at school and in Glee Club – the front that they put up around each other was tiring – and the brunette missed their closeness every day as she roamed McKinley hallways and classrooms – missions were almost like reprieves where her sense of normalcy, was oddly attainable.
Quinn reached into her jean pocket as she drove, hoping to find her lucky matches – the certain pack had been bestowed upon her almost eerily, and now although she didn't smoke, she carted them around with her everywhere – they were lucky after all. Her pyrotechnic tendencies were only a misnomer to their presence in her life – And now as she scrambled to find the pack of lighters that wasn't there she began to panic.