Twilight Zone Chapter 1: Enter the Twilight Zone, a glee fanfic

Title: Twilight Zone (1/2)
Rating: M (for many f-bombs)
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: Audition!
Summary: Rachel and Quinn are so desperately OOC that McKinley High is thrown off kilter.
Pairing: Faberry
Warning: Characters are highly OOC; Santana is a potty-mouth

Cross posted at my new lj account: http:/ vsquared-k. livejournal.c ml

A/N: I'd like to apologize beforehand for the amount of swearing in this piece, but my reasoning is that fictional Santana already swears quite a lot on TV, so realistic Santana would have no swear filter. At all. I personally do not condone swearing, and, in typical speech, never really go beyond "crap", unless there is, like, no other alternative. However, reality isn't as clean as that, and Santana definitely isn't, so thus the swears, for believability sake.

A/N2: More than slightly inspired by the Torres/Seven fic, "It started with an f" by alias-hw, which can be found on

Santana was distinctly wondering if she was in the twilight zone. It had started as a regular school day. She'd met Brittany at the door for early Cheerios practice after a wholesome breakfast of sawdust and ash. Her mom had just shaken her head (long having come to an acceptance that her daughter was not going to eat), and told her to have a good day.

Then she got to school.

At first, it hadn't seemed like there was something incredibly different: Cheerios practice was just that, Cheerios practice. She was still trying to get used to being at the bottom of the pyramid, because when life gives you lemons, you ate them. Whole. She'd scowled at the freshmen that jeered at her, and, like clockwork, they'd all turned pale and scurried away.

It was then that she heard a giggle. A strangely familiar giggle, from somewhere above her, that she couldn't place. That giggle kept occurring throughout practice, and it started creeping her out.

Santana waited until she and Brittany were the last people in the change rooms after practice, like usual, and when the last person left, she reached for Brittany. Just as their lips met, she heard a surprisingly familiar voice say, "Get a room, you two!" followed by that giggle. Santana froze, and turned to gawk.

Did Quinn fucking Fabray just giggle?

"You two are just so cute together!" There was a sound that was reminiscent of a "squee!" and Quinn beamed. Santana's jaw dropped. What the hell was happening? Before Santana could really understand what was going on, Brittany had grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the change room so quickly that Santana was pretty sure she'd gotten whiplash.

Santana's brain finally caught up enough for her to let out a simple "What the fuck?" Brittany merely nodded; they were both beyond shellshocked. "What the hell has Q sprouting rainbows, butterflies, puppies and unicorns?"

"I had a pet unicorn once..." Brittany said, confused. She turned to Santana, asking, "Did you know marshmallows come from unicorns?" Santana looked at her, more perplexed than ever.

"No, I didn't... Anyway, that was majorly creepy." Brittany nodded in agreement just as the bell rang. They decided to ignore the fact that something was obviously very wrong with Quinn Fabray, and go to class.

Everything seemed more or less normal to Santana until she got to her 3rd period class, which she shared with Rachel. Mr. Shuester had told them that they would be working together on some weird Spanish project the day before.

Santana was ready for the ridiculously long tirade that was sure to spout from Berry's mouth. Something akin to her having done a plethora of research, and had basically done the whole project already, thank you, but please save the applause for later, as it will disturb the other students (along with the accompanying spreadsheet and PowerPoint presentation that Berry undoubtedly had prepared). To say the Latina was shocked that she had not actually done work at all last night, had barely slept, and was barely speaking was an understatement (she was talking, at least, and in remarkably succinct sentences, so Santana was pretty sure it wasn't quite the apocalypse yet). This also completely threw Santana off, since she had hoped that getting paired with the diva would be like it usually was, a 'get out of jail free' card.

"Manhands! Why the fuck didn't you do anything last night?" Rachel languidly turned to look her way, and smirked. It was a remarkable smirk that rivaled the Latina's own, and the girl shivered. Not in a good way, either. The diva just kept looking at her like she'd eaten Brittany's locker-dwelling bird, and Santana felt that it was justified that she felt threatened, even if it detracted from her badassery.

"You're fuckin' hot."

Santana gaped. 'Berry made a swear! What the fuck? Berry made a massive swear! And she dropped a 'g'!'

"Anyway, Santana, why do you even care? You speak Spanish. You don't need my help." There was a dismissing wave of the hand from the Latina (knowing the subject was a horrible reason not to slack off), which induced a grunt and an eyeroll from the diva. Santana was officially uneasy. Maybe there was something in the water... Something that only affected blonde HBICs and divas of the verbose variety.

By lunch, Santana had gotten fifteen texts from various Cheerios, Glee club members, and other students in the vein of "Who replaced Quinn with a giggling hyper mess?" or "Guess what? RuPaul's being quiet, omg!". It was all very confusing, and she thought it particularly odd that people were asking her about Quinn, since the two had not been getting along since the cat fight weeks prior.

At lunch, Brittany dragged her over to the Glee table (minus Rachel, who was presumably in the auditorium, practicing her vocals), the football team, and Quinn. Santana gave Brittany a perplexed look and the blonde ignored her, just plunking down on a seat, and leaning over the table. "What happened to them?"

"The current theory is that they were probed by aliens last night." Kurt crossed his legs daintily. The table chose to ignore Brittany's quip about having been abducted by aliens once, though Mercedes couldn't help but think that it explained a lot.

"The question is why would they want Treasure Trail?" The table nodded in consensus, and fell into a ponderous silence.

Suddenly, Kurt's iPhone let out a noise. He pulled it out, and his eyebrow quirked. "Jacob Ben Israel's blog just updated." He poked at his screen to pull up the article, and placed it on the table in front of him.

"You get notifications from Jewfro's blog?" He nodded absently as everyone leaned forward to read the minuscule type. The entry was accompanied by a tiny picture of people Santana couldn't help but recognize. "Hey, isn't that Q?" The table nodded in agreement.

"Rachel was wearing that outfit yesterday," Kurt added, pointing at the picture's slightly obscured other subject. The two were obviously arguing in the picture. "I can't forget it 'cause it's still burned into my retinas."

"It gave me nightmares," Tina whispered. Artie leaned over to pat her thigh as Mercedes murmured consolingly.

"Why were they together last night?" asked Mercedes, "What's it say, Kurt?"

"Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry were seen in front of the cheerleader's locker after school yesterday, arguing about an assignment the two were paired in. A source says that later that night, an explosive argument occurred between the two at the Berry household, followed by loud guttural shouting and moans as well as much swearing. What followed after that was silence. The cheerleader emerged an hour later. Our source regrets being unable to actually get pictures of the proceedings." Kurt took a second to process what he had just read as everyone at the table looked either disgusted or overtly shocked. All hell broke loose.

"Did-"
"Jacob Ben Israel-"
"Jewfro just-"
"-insinuate that those two-"
"Rachel Fucking Berry and Quinn Fucking Fabray!"
"-had sex yesterday?"

They all paused to breathe, and Santana turned to Brittany. "How do you know what insinuate means?" Brittany smiled a strange smile that the brunette couldn't place, and turned back to the conversation at hand.

*\o/*

Across campus, Puck was reading over Finn's shoulder and said simply, "That's hot."

"What is?" Finn asked, confused. "Rachel and Quinn just had an argument. There's nothing hot about that."

"Try again, bro. With the mailman this time."

After several seconds, Finn's face squinched up oddly, and turned back to Puck, slapping his shoulder good-naturedly. "Rachel wouldn't do that to me, we love each other."

Puck shook his head. Finn was a lost cause.

*\o/*

By Glee, the halls were buzzing with gossip about Jacob Ben Israel's news. Few people really felt like confronting the two girls about the stories, but Rachel had made it perfectly clear that she didn't care about it (or much of anything, really). Quinn just smiled sweetly at everyone in the halls, and was walking with a distinct spring in her step while humming upbeat songs from years gone by. Between not wanting to compromise the comfortable quiet that had descended around the ingenue and being too afraid of the change in the HBIC, the glee club could only watch as stories spiraled out if control.

Santana watched as Quinn played with Kurt's hat (on her head), making goofy faces and giggling, and shuddered. She wondered where Manhands was, since she want in the choir room yet. When Mr. Shuester walked in 5 minutes late saying assignments, and Rachel still hadn't come in, Finn finally looked up and stated, "Rachel's not here yet."

Before Santana could say something witty (she was leaning toward "No shit, Sherlock!"), Mr. Shuester told the club that Rachel couldn't come.

There was a giggle from the blond head cheerleader, and a quiet, "Yes, she can!" that somehow carried over the incredibly quiet room. All eyes turned to the red-faced cheerleader, who shrugged, as if to say 'what?', giggled again, and said, "She did last night..."

"Ay Dios Mio!"

The room erupted into chaos.

TBC

.o.

Last A/N: Many thanks to my editor, Mr. Albrecht Starkarm, for putting up with my new fanaticism that revolves around Glee... and the massively long gaps of time between our communications. You're always so prompt, Mr. Batman! I guess it's because you're Batman... I promise to have something KP related up shortly!