Title: Queen Elizabeth I
Pairing: Faberry - with references to Finchel and Brittana
Rating: T - for language and slight (very very slight) sexual undertones.
Summary: When Quinn drops off the face of the Earth during the summer, Rachel takes matters into her own hands to find out what's going on in her life.
Spoilers: Season 3, Episode 1: The Purple Piano Project
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, nor am I in any way affiliated to Glee. Everything you'll find here is the product of my imagination.
A/N: Before you start reading this, I'd recommend watching the Season 3 premiere, otherwise, the last chapter won't make much sense. Also, I'd like to give a shout-out to vondrunkaton for being a lovely beta (and incredible author).
Rachel was making her way through the empty parking lot towards her car when she felt a hand wrap around her arm and pull her to a secluded area. Before she even knew what had hit her, she realised that Quinn had her pinned against a motorcycle and was staring at her mildly annoyed.
"Why did you know about that skater?" Quinn gritted through her teeth, arms planted firmly on the motorcycle to either side of Rachel's tiny frame. Oh God, was Quinn riding a motorcycle to school now?
Suddenly -and for some reason she couldn't really question herself about at that moment- overcome with confidence, Rachel spat back, "Why did you get Santana kicked off Glee?"
Quinn stared at her, a deep frown overtaking her features, "What are you talking about?"
"That little stint of yours with the piano? Mr. Schuester banned Santana from Glee because of it. But both you and I know that it was you who set the piano on fire, not her," the brunette replied, levelling Quinn's stare with her own.
The taller girl scoffed at her, making Rachel try to step away from her and press back against the motorcycle instead, "That had nothing to do with Santana. And you haven't answered my question. Why did you know about the skater?"
Taking a deep breath, Rachel pondered on her options. She could lie about it and say someone who had seen it had told her; or she could tell Quinn the truth, that she had been stalking her, basically. After Mack's threat, she wasn't sure which one of the answers she could chose from would get her beaten up, so she could only hope that she picked the one that led to her safety.
"I saw you," Rachel replied firmly, watching as Quinn's eyes widened, "I followed you and saw you with her," she went on, and she was momentarily surprised when Quinn pushed herself away from her and paced a full circle before shrieking, "Jesus, Berry, are you fucking kidding me? You followed me? What in fucking hell possessed you to do something so incredibly idiotic?" she stopped again in front of Rachel, hands on hips, staring at the brunette with curiosity.
"I was worried about you!" Rachel stared back at her defiantly, taking a step forward, "You are sad, Quinn. And you were sad before. You've been sad ever since I can remember. And I was worried about you. I am worried about you, okay? And no one knew where you had disappeared to, and I needed to know that you were alright. So I followed you, okay?"
Quinn looked at her wide-eyed, frozen, as the brunette became quiet. "Do you have any idea of what could have happened to you if they had found you spying on us?" Quinn asked, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to trouble you. All I want is for you to stop being sad and go back to Glee Club," Rachel stated, her expression softening and her voice returning to normal volume.
"I'm not in trouble," Quinn retorted with a snort, "Fuck, I'm the smartest person they know, so trust me, they have no idea of what happened. But you could have gotten the living shit beaten out of you if they had found out, Berry. So don't do it again," Rachel stared at Quinn as she spoke, suddenly wanting to squirm under the intensity of the taller girl's gaze, "You need to ask me something, you come to my house and ask me. If someone bothers you or threatens you, you come to me and tell me. Under no circumstances do you ever follow me or the Skanks again, are we clear?" Upon receiving no response from the petite girl, she raised her voice a bit, "Berry, are we clear?"
Rachel nodded weakly, "Yes, Quinn," she paused, seemingly placated, only to speak again with renewed drive, "Just-just know that I'm trying to help you. I don't care about how you look, or how you dress, or about your smoking, or your lesbian tendencies. I would even suggest that we do a Bangles tribute, or songs by the Cure, or Blondie, if you want," she offered with a hopeful tone.
In a matter of seconds, Quinn had Rachel pressed against the motorcycle again, and Rachel had no idea what could have possibly caused that reaction, "What the fuck do you want from me, Berry?"
The brunette simply stared in confusion, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, "I am your friend, Quinn. I want you to come back to Glee Club when you're ready. And I want you to at least try to be happy. I want to help you be happy," Rachel elaborated, suddenly being pulled into Quinn's eyes, the tug of the sadness she found there threatening to drown her.
Quinn sighed and closed her eyes, "Fine," she opened her eyes, "We'll play it your way. I'll be your friend. But don't hold your breath waiting for me to go back to Glee Club, because that's not happening, understood?"
"But why?" Rachel insisted, she could feel Quinn's resolve slipping away, "Why won't you go back to the one thing that was good for you, if only for a moment?"
Quinn glared at her bitterly, voice rising quickly, "Because Glee Club destroyed me, Berry!"
"But-" Rachel started again, but Quinn interrupted her, voice suddenly soft as her arms loosened around Rachel and against the motorcycle as her head dropped, "I lost everything because of Glee Club. Don't you understand, Rachel? I'm tired of losing everything I care about because of glee. I'm tired of hurting."
Rachel could only look at the girl before her, sadness seeming to seep out of her pores, and all she wanted to do was pull her close and hold her tight until she stopped hurting, "You still have me, Quinn. And everyone misses you. They've all asked about you."
Neck still bent, Quinn shook her head, "You don't understand. I lost everything I had, and everything I wanted, to Glee Club. I can't go back."
Deciding to take the risk, Rachel gently lifted Quinn's face, her fingers brushing against Quinn's chin, and she was almost surprised to see the faint shimmer of tears gathered at the corners of hazel eyes. "What did you lose, Quinn?" she whispered.
Avoiding the display of vulnerability, Quinn shook her head away from Rachel's grasp and shut her eyes tightly in an attempt to will the tears away, "Drop it. Just drop it, Rachel. Let it go."
Rachel felt relentless. She couldn't comply with that. She couldn't just drop it like it didn't matter. This was Quinn, so of course it mattered. She shook her head, "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. What did you lose? I'm trying to help you, Quinn. But I can't do that if you don't let me. So tell me. I'm here. I'm right here, so talk to me. What did you lose?"
The next thing she knew, Quinn's body was pinning her to the motorcycle and Quinn's mouth was covering her own. She felt Quinn's lips press against her forcefully, and she couldn't help the jolt of desire that shot through her spine at the sensation. She was taken back to that one moment when she had seen Quinn making out with the skater, and when the realization hit her, that she was the one in that position now, she felt her entire body be practically consumed by flames. Quinn's lips moved against hers, and soon her tongue was pressing against Rachel's teeth. With every single little thought thrown out of the window, Rachel kissed Quinn back with everything she had. She swallowed Quinn's moan when their tongues made contact, and she barely restrained herself from clutching onto Quinn's shoulders for dear life.
She tried to pull away from Quinn to gulp in a breath, but the taller girl's hands flew to either side of Rachel's face -holding her in place- as her hips shot forward to trap Rachel against the bike. Despite the pain the motorcycle was putting on her back, and despite the wave of arousal that came from their joint hips, threatening to overwhelm her, Rachel continued kissing Quinn, and only attempted to pull away when she felt the cool metal of Quinn's nose ring brush against her cheek. Gently, she pressed the heel of her palm against Quinn's collarbone, successfully separating their mouths. She felt Quinn's laboured breathing rush in puffs against her lips, and she realized she was breathing heavily as well.
"That's what I lost," Quinn whispered against her bruised lips.
Rachel opened her eyes -when had she even closed them?- and stared into Quinn's own, understanding suddenly claiming her brain. She let a suddenly shy smile curl her lips, "Not lost. Gained."
Quinn searched Rachel's face. For what? Rachel wasn't sure. Honesty, perhaps? Whatever it was she was looking for, she found it, for a warm, calm smile claimed her own lips as she nodded, "I'm not going back to Glee Club yet, though."
Rachel pursed her lips and nodded in acceptance, "Okay."
"And even though this... development does make me happy, it's going to take more than that to make me really happy," Quinn continued, and Rachel instantly knew what she was talking about.
"That can be arranged. We kept in touch," the brunette replied, her hand finding Quinn's to entwine their fingers against Rachel's hip. Quinn simply nodded in turn, glad that Rachel had understood and hadn't asked for her to elaborate any further than that.
They fell silent for a few minutes, and Rachel did nothing but watch as Quinn looked at her, her breathing calmer now. Then a playful smirk graced Rachel's lips, "Is there any way I can convince you to take a shower, though? Preferably today?"
Her smirk turned into a full-blown, dazzling, Rachel Berry smile when Quinn burst into laughter against her, "Yes, Rachel, I'll shower every day."
"Good," the brunette replied with a nod, and Quinn all but jumped away from her when Rachel's phone buzzed in the pocket of her jeans against Quinn's fishnet clad thigh. Quinn recovered quickly, though, and, without an ounce of self-restraint, she pulled her free hand into Rachel's pocket to swiftly fish out the offending gadget.
Rachel saw a frown appear in Quinn's face, a thin line creasing between her brows, and wondered what kind of content the message had to have in order to cause that expression. She found out when Quinn's eyes bore into hers and she asked, her voice dripping with both curiosity and confusion, "Kurt wants to know what is Queen Elizabeth I doing in your bedroom?"
The shorter girl barely contained her giggles at the statement and shook her head. "It's an analogy for you. And that's all I'm saying," she replied coyly, and her smile widened when Quinn snorted good-naturedly and handed her a helmet that Rachel thought was too big for her head, "Come on, let me give you a ride home."
She watched Quinn hop on the motorcycle -a Harley, as she was just now noticing-, and straddle it confidently. Rachel dropped every hint of reluctance that she may have had, and tucked the helmet snugly on her head, jumping onto the bike behind Quinn, her arms instantly encircling the taller girl's waist tightly. She couldn't really see it, but she knew Quinn was smiling. It was a first step on the road towards Quinn's happiness, and she was going to do everything in her power to accomplish just that.
Of course, she'd never tell Quinn what Queen Elizabeth I really stood for, because until then, she hadn't even know that the answer had been there all along: Queen was the closest homophone for Quinn, Elizabeth stood for Beth -the next step towards making Quinn happy-, and I? Well, I stood for two things, the first being that in Roman numerals it represented number one, and Quinn was the number one person in Rachel's life in terms of importance. As for the second meaning? The combination of the royal title and the name stood for the family Rachel knew could always bring happiness to both Quinn and herself: Quinn, Beth, and I.