Title: Gummy Berry 1/4
Author: Hippo_Crat
Rating: R, for crude language.
Length: 2,135 words
Spoilers: Pilot for this chapter.
Summary: Freshman year, Quinn is on Sue's diet.
Pairing: Quinn/Rachel eventually
The first time it happened Rachel wasn't sure what to make of it.
This is how it started.
She was alone in the restroom having just completed her daily, post-lunch, hygiene rituals when the door to the bathroom opened suddenly and Quinn Fabray entered. Rachel's muscles seized up involuntarily as she prepared herself for whatever cruelty the cheerleader had in store.
For her part, Quinn seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. The blonde marched, robotically, to the sinks and surveyed her appearance.
Satisfied that Quinn was content in ignoring her presence today Rachel quickly repacked her travel toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss and mouthwash into the sparkly, pink, travel case. In her haste to leave the bathroom the plastic case slipped from her damp hands and landed on the floor. Right at the feet of Quinn Fabray.
Hazel eyes moved from the pink eyesore on the floor to the brunette eyesore standing in front of her. Quinn stared at Rachel and for a moment her eyes were wide with confusion. The girl squeezed them shut and shook her head as if to clear it. Rachel was torn between asking after Quinn's health and grabbing her belongings to simply flee the restroom.
The better angels of her nature won out and the brunette softly cleared her throat. "Quinn, are you feeling well?"
A familiar sneer marred Quinn's otherwise beautiful face. The blonde bent down and picked up the case. "You must be forgetting how things work around here, Vanity Smurf. Trash like you should feel lucky to be in the presence of someone like me. Trash like you doesn't get to speak to someone like me." Quinn turned toward an empty stall and emptied the contents of the container into the toilet bowl.
Rachel winced as the porcelain sink dug into her side, a direct result of Quinn shoving past her. "Later, loser."
The short brunette sighed and made a mental note to stop by the drugstore on her way home to purchase new oral hygiene products. Again.
Outside the restroom Quinn took a deep breath and leaned heavily against a row of lockers. The idiotic diet Coach Sylvester forced on all the Cheerios was making her loopy. If only she could just have something solid in her stomach then the world would stop turning on its axis.
No, that wasn't an option.
She had already cheated on her diet today by having her mother drive her past McDonalds this morning with the windows down. The calorie laden air she had inhaled would have to be sufficient to help her make it through the day.
After another cleansing breath Quinn pushed off the lockers and headed back toward the cafeteria. Rumor had it Brittany had smuggled in some diluted Vitamin Water; she could totally threaten the girl into sharing.
Rachel fidgeted impatiently all through Ms. Peters' English lecture. The singer couldn't wait for her next class; study hall. After months of campaigning Rachel had finally gotten Mr. Ryerson to allow her the use of the choir room for her free period. Of course her excitement didn't mean she was forsaking her school work. If prompted Rachel was prepared to repeat, verbatim, Ms. Peters' lecture—even her teacher's inexcusable mistake regarding the year Romeo and Juliet was first published versus the date it was first performed.
Movement in her peripherals caught Rachel's attention for a moment; Quinn Fabray was also fidgeting. The blonde cheerleader would scan the room impatiently, stopping momentarily on Santana Lopez, her blonde Cheerio friend, two male football players, who Rachel thought of as 'Frankenteen' and 'the quiet one' respectively, before stopping at Rachel Berry herself. Each time it was here that Quinn would stop, shake her head and glare at the clock only to restart the pattern 40 seconds later.
Rachel frowned, it really was none of her business and she was certain that Quinn would not want her to meddle, but she really wanted to bring the girl's addlepated state to Ms. Peters' attention. It was at the behest of her sixth sense that she remained silent.
Before the bell was finished announcing the end of sixth period Rachel was out of her seat and out the door. With speed and precision borne of practice the brunette managed to reach the choir room, on the other side of the school, in less than two minutes without incident. Safely in her temporary sanctuary Rachel began to immerse herself in the music. All the negative events of the day melted away until there was only the sound of her voice echoing off the walls.
Elegant fingers stroked the ebony and ivory keys as she practiced her song choice for the MySpace video of the day.
The sound of the door slamming shut jarred Rachel from her progressive chords.
The brunette turned slightly from her position on the bench to see who was invading on her personal time. Quinn Fabray was pressed against the door and her eyes were fixed on the diminutive singer.
Quinn bounced her leg in irritation. Why was class running so long on a day when she was so hungry she couldn't see straight? The blonde effortlessly tuned out Ms. Peters' stunningly boring monologue. Who really cared about Romeo and Juliet, if Shakespeare had written it, it really wasn't his best work. It was a sentimental piece of crap and the fact that it was required reading was a joke.
Restless, her eyes scanned the room for the—well; she had lost count of the number of times. It was happening again, she was pretty sure she had been hallucinating on and off throughout the day.
The diet was to blame.
After the early morning practice Quinn had overheard some of the older cheerios complaining about the hallucinations, there was talk of breaking the diet and eating something with nutritious value but Quinn knew better. Her older sister had warned Quinn against quitting. The last cheerio standing; the one who could endure without complaint would be Sue's leading candidate for head cheerio. It was a position she coveted greatly.
So she would endure. She would blink away the spots clouding her vision and ignore the allure of T-Bone Steak Santana, Swedish-Fish Brittany, Tootsie-Pop Finn, Sushi Roll Matt and Gummy Bear Berry.
Oh God. She had looked at Berry again.
She couldn't help it, she was hungry, damn it. And it had been so long since she'd had a gummy bear, it had been years and it was her favorite candy…
No. She had to be strong. This was a test, she was being tested and through strength and fortitude and resolve she could overcome—
The bell rang.
The delectable Gummy Berry was out the door in a heartbeat.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to visit one of the vending machines in lieu of attending sixth period. It was a physical impossibility for Sue Sylvester to be able to guard them all at the same time. The odds were on her side for once.
The odds were not on her side.
Coach Sylvester always seemed to be ten steps ahead of her; always in place before she ever even got close.
The dusty, seldom-used vending machines by the auditorium were her last shot. Her crumpled, sweat-soaked dollar bill in hand Quinn crept along, delirious with hunger and adrenaline. At last, her target was in sight and it was unguarded! The blonde scurried forward, reached out a pale hand and just barely grazed the metal casing of the machine when she heard it.
The squeak of sneakers on linoleum. Shit. Fuck.
Panicked, Quinn dove into the first available room and slammed the door shut behind her. The discordant clanging of piano keys drew her attention away from her near brush with death.
Of all the rooms in the miserable school Quinn Fabray had managed to shut herself in with an oversized gummy bear.
"Oh, there is a God." She whispered reverently closing in on her target.
"What did you say?" Rachel asked cautiously, unsure whether this was going to be one of the times she and Quinn engaged in almost civil conversation or if it was merely the prelude to some self-esteem devastating attack.
"Shhh, Gummy Bears don't talk." Quinn chastised, quickly closing the distance between them.
Rachel rose to place herself in a more tenable Fight or Flight position only to be pinned to the piano, her ass on the keyboard and her back pressed against the fall. The brunette yelped out in pain and then again in shock as hungry lips descended on her exposed neck.
Much to the confusion of one Rachel Berry the assault didn't stop there. Quinn Fabray pushed herself closer to the brunette; she flattened her tongue taking a broad swipe over the tanned skin. She moaned with evident pleasure. "You taste good," Quinn commented, relishing every moment with the sinfully-sweet, forbidden candy.
"That may be leftover slushy from second period." Rachel responded reflexively. The higher functions of her brain were devoted to flipping out. Quinn Fabray, bastion of Christian heterosexuality and chastity champion was touching her. More specifically, the cheerleader was licking, sucking and nibbling on her neck. Somewhere Rachel's day had taken a turn for the weird.
She stood, stiff as a board, with her hands twitching uselessly in the air. She was almost certain this was actually happening and as such Rachel had no idea how to handle it. Her hands found purchase on Quinn's shoulders and she gently tried to push the girl away.
The blonde was having none of that. Quinn growled and pressed herself even closer to the brunette.
The cheerleader had had enough of toying with her food and bit down sharply on the smaller girl's neck. Two things happened almost simultaneously; first Rachel gave an embarrassingly breathy whimper and second as an instinctive response to the pain Rachel's hands flew up and accidentally hit Quinn in the nose.
The pain and watery eyes seemed to do an excellent job of snapping Quinn out of her trance.
Quinn was standing in front of—and practically on top of—Rachel Berry and had no idea how she got here, why her face hurt so much, or why she could taste grape slushy.
Judging by the horrified look on Berry's face, the way she was holding her hands and the enduring pain in her sensitive nose the logical conclusion was that Rachel Berry had hit her in the face.
"What the hell is your problem, you psycho, loser freak!" Quinn bellowed as she gently prodded her nose to ensure no lasting damage.
"I'm terribly sorry Quinn. I did not mean to strike you and even if I had I would never have aimed for your nose—" Rachel was so remorseful she looked to be a second away from tears.
"You hit me! Are you fucking suicidal?" The blonde was going to destroy Berry the second she left the room. No, better yet, she was going to sic Santana on the irritating midget with huge hands.
"You tried to eat me!" Rachel snapped in a defensive manner. This day was progressively becoming more bizarre.
"You clubbed me with your gigantic man hands!" Quinn wasn't certain who had the high ground in this argument but she would be damned before she lost anything to Rachel Berry.
Rachel pushed her hair back behind her shoulder to reveal tanned, smooth skin marred by several bruising soon-to-be hickies and a rather angry looking bite mark. Quinn winced; things were starting to trickle back to her, something about a very large gummy bear.
"You. Tried. To. Eat. Me." Rachel enunciated slowly. Her argument was uncharacteristically concise, but incontrovertible.
"Fine, I tried to eat you. I'm hungry and delusional and evidently very desperate. But none of that matters because none of it ever leaves this room." Quinn growled; her voice low and menacing.
Rachel nodded rapidly, more than eager to forget about the attempted cannibalization, about the lips on her neck and being pinned to the piano…She forced all thoughts of their encounter away and focused on the blonde. "Agreed, but if it turns out you were the harbinger of some plague that engineers the zombie apocalypse we will have words."
"Why are you such a freak, Man Hands?" Quinn walked away without waiting for an answer. Cheerio practice was in an hour and she had until then to get it together and win the position of Head Cheerleader. A Twinkie and a Sno Ball walked by her, holding hands.
Maybe a nap would be the best course of action until school finished.
In the choir room Rachel carefully examined her hands, looking the baby soft skin over and over again.
Perhaps it would be prudent to increase the frequency of her manicures from biweekly to weekly.