and I will sing this magic (into the world)

There were many intimidating things about relocating from relatively small-town Ohio to New York City, but the most intimidating to the young blonde woman sitting on the train and trying to remember if this was her stop, or if it was the next one, was definitely the subway system. So vast, so complex, and so confusing, with all its letters and numbers and color-coded symbols, she felt lost, as though the underground labyrinth of tunnels were caverns of evil, and the trains were dragons seeking to swallow up unsuspecting travelers, never to be seen again. She had been told just to keep count of the stops as the train rumbled along, but it was way too easy for her to be distracted by the myriad of different voices and accents and unique appearances of the riders all around her, and she found herself constantly trying to remember if that last stop was the fourth or the fifth, and whether her stop was the ninth or the tenth.

The armored dragon rumbled to a stop, its maw opening to swallow up new victims and spit out those it had already digested, and Quinn shook her head as she made the spontaneous, split-second decision to get off the train. By the time she realized a few moments later that this was not where she wanted to get off, it was too late – the metal jaws were shut and the dragon was slithering off on its belly to its next destination, and Quinn cursed softly to herself. Looking around the station, she saw that it was one of the cleaner, more well-kept ones, and when she noticed the stairs leading to the upper level, she decided to take them in the hope that she might be able to get some signal on her phone, maybe use her subway app to figure out where she'd gone wrong, or more likely, call Santana to rescue her yet again.

Sighing in frustration, she trudged up the steps, feeling as though each and every one of the people sprinting down or pushing up past her somehow knew she'd messed up once more. Her cheeks heated with anger and embarrassment at being silently judged by all these people she didn't know, who didn't know her, and being found lacking.

Finally, Quinn reached the top of the stairs, and as she walked forward, she was caught by the sight of a small crowd gathered in the open area between the stairs and the turnstiles, applauding a young woman standing behind a microphone on a stand, with a portable stereo set up next to her. The woman was petite – barely over five feet tall, if that – but she stood there with a quiet confidence that made her seem much larger, somehow. A white beret was perched atop a head of long, lustrous dark hair, set off by a pair of large, deep brown eyes and olive skin. As Quinn studied the girl's face, she thought her nose was maybe a tad on the big side, but not unattractively so; in fact, the more she looked, the more she was struck by the girl's exotic beauty. And while she appreciated the girl's ridiculously short skirt, the quirky sweater with a giant owl's face on it made her shake her head in disbelief. But when the girl smiled, showing two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth between her plump lips, it was so bright that Quinn found herself smiling too, her current predicament forgotten in the moment.

As the applause began to die down, the girl cleared her throat and spoke in a voice that sounded like music itself to Quinn's ears.

"Thank you, everyone. Thank you. As I mentioned earlier, my name is Rachel Berry, and I'm a musical theater major at NYADA, the campus of which is not too far away from here. And while I do have a full scholarship, I'm still a poor college student, so yes –I'm almost literally singing for my supper today."

Quinn chuckled along with several others in the crowd, rolling her eyes at this Rachel girl's earnestness. Yet she saw that there were more than a few dollars stuffed into a jar at the singer's feet, and had to admit she was intrigued. So she figured it couldn't hurt anything to stay where she was for a few minutes and hear what kind of performer Rachel Berry was.

Forty-five minutes later, Quinn's jaw was still on the floor and the jar was nearly full of bills. How on earth could such a tiny person sing with such power, such passion, such control? She was sure she'd never heard anything like Rachel's voice in all her life, and as soon as the girl had finished her set of Broadway classics and pop tunes, all Quinn could think was that she wanted her to start all over again.

Then her phone buzzed, and Quinn was forced to stop staring at Rachel long enough to read the text message she'd just gotten...along with the ten others that she'd ignored.

All of which were from Santana. Yup. She's going to kill me.

Just as Quinn expected, her roommate's messages quickly escalated from a simple inquiry as to whether Quinn would be back at their place soon so they could get their pizza on, to a rage-filled threat to slowly eviscerate her upon her return – whenever that would be - if she didn't answer her messages like, sooner than NOW, bitch!

Rachel had just finished thanking a slightly overenthusiastic older gentleman in a business suit who had dropped a fifty dollar bill into the jar, proclaiming that her version of Send in the Clowns was the best he had ever heard, when she saw the tall, pale blonde staring at her phone with a look of distress on her lovely face. Hurriedly, she removed the bills from the jar and stuffed them in her purse.

"Damn it!" Quinn exclaimed. Her subway app revealed that not only had she gotten off at the wrong stop, she had actually been on the wrong train altogether. "How am I going to get home when I don't even know where the hell I am?!"

Straightening out her sweater and smoothing down her skirt, Rachel schooled her features into her best expression of kind concern and walked over to the distraught blonde. If this girl needed help, then of course Rachel was going to help her in any way she possibly could.

Gently tapping the clearly unhappy girl on the shoulder, she said, "Excuse me, miss. I couldn't help but see your look of fear and distress - not to mention overhear your outburst a moment ago - and I would be happy to offer you my assistance, whatever you require."

Quinn jumped a little, startled by the tap and the singer's sudden appearance. "What? Oh, um – no, no, I'm fine, really."

Rachel smiled kindly, as she might at a child who had just dropped his ice cream cone on the sidewalk. "It certainly didn't sound that way to me. Something about needing to get home and not knowing where you are? Let me guess – you're new to the city. Correct?"

Quinn blushed, internally cursing her fair skin for betraying her, not for the first time. Sticking her phone back in her purse, Quinn replied, "Um, no – maybe. Yes. Okay, yes, yes, I am. It's these damned subways! I haven't quite gotten the hang of them yet. My roommate has been waiting to have dinner, and I've been keeping her waiting all this time, and now she's going to kill me when I get back – if I ever manage to get back -"

Rachel cut her off. "Say no more. I had the same problem when I came here, but now I'm a certified, bona fide expert in the ways and workings of this great city's public transportation system. Where do you live?"

Taken aback by Rachel's boldness, Quinn said, "Really? I literally just met you, and you think I'm actually going to give you my address? What, you think I've never seen a serial killer movie before?"

"I assure you," Rachel huffed in mock indignation, "that I am not a serial killer, and that I have no nefarious intentions or malevolent motivations here. I simply saw that you needed assistance, and offered such in good faith. And besides, you're the stranger here – after all, you know my name, but I don't know yours, Miss...?"

"Fabray. Quinn Fabray."

Rachel beamed that blinding thousand-watt smile and clapped in delight. "Wonderful to make your acquaintance, Quinn! Now come with me. I'll just need a minute or two to gather the rest of my things, and then I'm going to get you home."

Before she could reply, Quinn found herself being dragged by the hand over to where Rachel's microphone, microphone stand, amplifier and portable stereo were still set up.

Still unsure, but feeling that Rachel was someone she could trust, Quinn nevertheless felt compelled to to ask, "Wait, what? You're going to get me home? Why – why would you do that?"

At this, Rachel stopped what she was doing and turned to Quinn with a puzzled look on her face, as though Quinn had just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

"Why wouldn't I? We're friends now, and this is what friends do for each other. What other reason could I possibly need? Here, help me get the amplifier onto the hand truck. It's a little heavy, and it needs to be perfectly balanced before I get it secured with the bungee cord."

Quinn shrugged helplessly and did as she was told, bending down to help Rachel lift the small amplifier onto the little hand truck because really, what else could she do? This girl was like a hurricane blowing into her life, and Quinn felt she might as well go with the wind rather than try to fight it.

A/N: So there are a couple of different ways I'm thinking of going with this one, and I'm kind of undecided about it right now - I can either keep it simple and focused on Quinn and Rachel without including too many other characters, or I can expand the focus a little and introduce several other favorite characters in perhaps unexpected roles. What would you, the readers, prefer to see? Share your thoughts in a review or a PM and let me know. Thanks!