A/N: So, this is part of the Expect The Unexpected series I'm working on, which is, frankly, exactly what it sounds like. As part of my everlasting quest to defy any and all possible cliches, something completely unfathomable occurs with one member of the Glee club in each fic of the series. The goal? To have each character put so far out of their league that they should be OUT of character, but still remain IN character. This is installment number fourteen, but none of them are connected plot-wise, so there aren't any prequels you have to read for any of them. Some will be tragic, some scary, some mysterious, some humorous. Enough jabber - please enjoy!
In every movie Quinn had ever seen about New York, Central Park was shown as a romantic place for a walk or a good place to have a picnic with the kids and the dog. In truth, the Park - or at least this part of it - was littered with trash and empty. She'd always thought that this hour of the night was generally when the druggies and prostitutes would emerge and go about their nocturnal business, but instead there was absolutely nobody in sight, and it was a relief to be alone, even if she was sleeping on a park bench.
Shivering and pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders, Quinn rested her head on her arm and closed her eyes, willing her body to forget the chilly air so she could fall asleep. But still her mind raced and so long as she was thinking, she couldn't sleep. At the forefront of her mind was a wish that she could be back at home in Ohio, with her mom, her friends, her school. But the last few weeks had changed all that - had changed her - and it felt like a lifetime ago that she'd run out of town. She'd needed a place to disappear, so she made her way to New York, where the crime level was through the roof and the police would have a lot more to worry about than some runaway girl from a Midwestern cow town.
Her thoughts were disrupted by a gruff voice. "Hey, girl, whatch'you doin' all the way out here?"
She opened her eyes to see a stocky man in a trucker coat and a Yankees baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes staring down at her from a few feet away. He was flanked by a second man, a blond who twitched every couple of seconds and looked like a drug addict. Quinn sat up calmly, bracing her hands on the park bench, crossing her ankles, and watching them evenly.
"Can I help you?"
The Yankee grinned, looking her up and down. "You're kinda sexy," he drawled, his eyes glinting slightly in the dim light from the walkway lamps.
Quinn chuckled lowly. "Does that line really work on New York girls?"
"Ohhhh, so you're a tourist, huh?" he asked conversationally, taking a step towards her.
She smiled coldly. "Don't sit next to me."
Yankee stopped where he was and raised his hands slightly. "Hey, I didn't wanna offend you or nothing."
"So where're you from?" Yankee asked, glancing at her half-exposed legs.
"What's your name?"
Yankee grinned and nudged the Blond. "I love this girl. Nobody from Nowhere." He turned back to Quinn. "Can we buy you a cup a' coffee?"
The cold smile reappeared.
"...Is that a no?"
"I don't know if you noticed, but I was trying to sleep."
Yankee glanced at Blond with a smirk. "Well, we can't let a girl pretty as you sleep on a bench in the middle of Central Park. So, how bout you come with us? We know a comfier spot."
Quinn laughed. "You really think I'm going to go with two strange men I met in the middle of the night in Central Park? I might be blonde, but I'm not dumb."
"Aw, come on, sweetie, we were just trying to be nice."
Yankee shifted. "You know what, Al?" he said a moment later, the grin spreading across his face again. "I think that Little Miss Nobody here should learn a thing or two about bein' polite."
Blond grinned as well, displayed a mouth of teeth the same color as his hair. His knuckles cracked.
Yankee turned back to Quinn, stepping forward and looming over her. "C'mon, Nobody. What'd'you say? Wanna give us a little private peep show?"
Quinn leaned back against the bench, calmly folding her hands in her lap. "Oh, you really wouldn't like what I'd give you."
"Wouldn't be too sure 'bout that," Yankee said, glancing not-so-subtly at her chest. "C'mon, baby."
Quinn laughed through her nose and shook her head. "You really don't want to come any closer."
He took another step forward, Blond circling around to the side, looking just as eager. "Yeah? And why's that?"
"Because I'll scream." Quinn tilted her head, still wearing a bright but empty smile.
Yankee's eyes lit up. "What if we like it when girls scream?"
"You wouldn't like mine."
At that moment, Blond, who had been circling around her as she and Yankee talked, grabbed her arms from behind, his fingers grasping her so tightly that they were sure to bruise. Quinn, however, had given up on being afraid, and this was no exception. She remained still as Yankee bent over in front of her, his breath blowing in her face, and she didn't flinch or even feel her heart skip when he said lowly, "I'm going to stuff my dick down your throat, and you're gonna like it."
He stood up and reached down to unzip his fly, and Blond's grip on Quinn's arms tightened. Quinn met Yankee's eyes with an unshaken glare. "So I guess this is the part where I scream."
"Well, there's no one around to hear it but us," Yankee said, gesturing around the empty walkway for emphasis.
Quinn's smile stretched. "I'm counting on it."
A minute later, she was striding along the walkway alone, and the next morning, a woman who was out early to jog before work stumbled upon the two corpses that Quinn had left behind.
A/N: This installment is LONG overdue. What'd you think? Worth a review?