Right- Had a bit of a disaster! I did post this fic but it won't let me upload any more chapters so I'm starting again! It's actually done me a few favours since I wasn't too keen on chapter three, so here goes strike two!
Prompt: In a place she didn't belong. Amongst people she never knew. She found a way to make a difference. Santana Lopez is a newly qualified paediatrician who's preoccupied with the diagnosis off a young four year old boy suffering from leukaemia. Meanwhile, Quinn is forced to interview successful Broadway star Rachel Berry.
Okay, so this is the first chapter of my newest fic and it takes place in Central London (for the most part). It begins mainly with Santana, Quinn eventually Rachel. Hopefully, if it progresses well, it will also have a healthy side portion of the other glee characters. OC's will be included but that may change depending on the direction I take.
Rating may go up later on. If anything needs clarifying then just feel free to ask and I'll explain as best as I possibly can.
I was sent a prompt to write this so I hope I've done it justice! I've written the second chapter which is much stronger, so let me know what you think and then I will post it once I've double checked it!
Thank-you for reading and for any reviews which are always helpful. Hope you enjoy.
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"You can sleep in here," Santana told Quinn as the two girls dragged Quinn's overstuffed duffel bags into the spare room. "My old roommate took her TV and stereo and everything with her when she went to Uni, so it's kinda bare in here…"
"That's okay." Quinn said, looking around. Compared to the welcoming, feminine décor of the rest of the apartment, the room was pretty sparse. A light white oak double bed stood under the double-sized windows that faced Bond Street, London's art museum and London's most prestigious ballet school. Beside it was a long, low dresser, and on the opposite wall was a desk and chair which Quinn placed her laptop on. It was all the same white oak wood as the bed and the occasional red décor stood out against the cream walls. On the floor, was a cream fur rug that just begged for her to walk barefoot across and the closet door stood partially open so that Quinn could see the silhouette of Santana's old cheerleading outfit hanging on the rail. It had been six years since she'd last seen that uniform and now here she was, in London, staying with Santana whilst she hunted for jobs completely unattached to the life she'd left back in Ohio.
Quinn breathed in the room's lavender smell mixed with musty wood and immediately relaxed. "Do you mind if I unpack my stuff?"
"Sure, go ahead." Santana flopped down on the bed and pulled a Playboy magazine out from under the mattress, scrunching up her perfectly shaped nose as she flipped through it. It had obviously been left behind by the last person who'd stayed in the spare room. That person had been Santana's co-worker, a fellow intern at the time, and her best guy friend called Nathaniel Jacobs. He'd crashed there after one of their drunken Friday nights at the local bar and had ended up staying for the entire week.
Quinn looked over her shoulder and smirked. Both women were too savvy about what guys really do when they're in their rooms alone to squirm and scream at the sight of Playboy. She pulled a pair of skinny demin jeans out of her bag and opened the closet. Beside the cheerleading outfit was Santana's black leather biker jacket Quinn remembered her wearing since she was fourteen, and two white button down shirts with frayed collars and cuffs which hung neatly next to a barely-worn Hugo Boss tuxedo. She pointed at it and Santana instantly explained without even looking up from the magazine.
"They're my friends Nate's. He stayed here last."
Quinn looked back to the closet, hanging the demin jeans up neatly. On the floor of the closet was a beat-up pair of tennis shoes and next to them was a Prada shoe box.
Quinn glanced at Santana but this time the Latina didn't notice, she was completely transfixed by Playboy. She knelt down, wondering what kind of person would leave their Prada shoe's behind. The black box was dusty, and when she lifted the lid she found that there were no shoes inside, only a small brown leather-bound photo album. She recognised it, but couldn't picture why. Gingerly, she lifted it out the box and opened it up to the first page.
Inside were tons of unstuck photos that Quinn instantly recognised. She turned the album round too observe the photo's better. The first two photos were of Quinn, Brittany and Santana on their first day as Cheerio's. Her hands shook a little as she took in their wide, beaming smiles and care-free eyes and knew instantly that the photo had captured more than just their smiles, but also the individual battles they were each fighting inside. There was so much more behind the photo than it portrayed, and Quinn couldn't help but feel relieved as she looked around the room, taking in its spacious vibe and relaxed atmosphere. It was just what she needed. Everything about London was a million miles away from the life she knew so well in Ohio and even Yale hadn't installed in her the amount of freedom and sense of entitlement that London had given her. She finally felt excited and spontaneous, like there were no limits or family ties that knotted her to the 'Good Christian Girl' image. She hadn't spoken or even seen her father since the day she left for Yale nearly six years before-hand and finally, she was beginning to grow and learn that to be able to move on, she had to learn to at least let some of her walls down.
Quinn turned the page to see more photos, but then decided against it, quietly folding the album closed. She'd look at the rest that evening, when she didn't have tons of unpacking to do. But it was weird that one photo of her in a particular uniform had defined her for so long. Part of her felt uneasy that she'd only just escaped Ohio for real. Yale had given her temporary escape but her end destination had always meant she'd have to return home eventually, but not anymore. She was completely separate from Ohio now…No ties. No past ghosts. No reminders of old mistakes.
Apart from a particular cheerio's outfit hanging in the closet.
She placed the album back where she found it and stood up. She then walked over to a silver-framed family photograph on top of the spare dresser. The Lopez family were sprawled out on a Florida beach somewhere in their bathing suits, all with a smooth, sun-kissed colour, dark brunette hair, white smiles and huge dark, sparkly brown eyes. Quinn could tell Santana was about fifthteen in the photo because she remembered buying the bikini with her at their local mall. In her hands was a baby blue surf-board with dark blue writing and orange leaves that decorated the edge of the board. Quinn noticed that across her nose were a tiny cluster of freckles that she'd never noticed before.
Why didn't I notice that? Quinn wondered to herself. It seemed like something she'd have realised even without knowing, but she couldn't remember ever seeing Santana with freckles before. Maybe they were from the sun…Behind her Santana rustled the pages of Playboy.
"Why did you choose to work in London?" Quinn wondered out loud, turning her top half to look at the brunette. For her, it was easy. She didn't want to be trapped in Ohio with her family, because there was always a continuous ghostly reminder that she'd spent years trying to be someone she wasn't and even that had never been good enough. It wasn't that she completely hated her family; she'd just had a lot of past issues that had resulted in resentment, but for Santana it was different. She loved herfamily.
"It's got the best education for students who want to do something in medicine. Plus, it was the only place that offered me a reasonable job with good pay and good hours. " She explained, looking over the top of the magazine. Quinn nodded, looking back at the photo. "Being here rather than with my own family challenges me to do better for the sake of the children I work with… And I love the accent." She added, a dirty grin playing across her glossed lips that told Quinn a lot more than she really needed to know. Quinn rolled her eyes, but Santana knew she agreed and it only made her smile wider.
"I never thought you'd leave your family." Quinn said distractedly, leaving the picture behind as she walked over to continue unpacking her bags. Santana sat up, readjusting her bra strap. "I always saw you being a doctor of some kind though. Like a surgeon." She admitted with a smile as she thought back to high-school. Santana had always been the only one to challenge her in exams. Quinn had quickly learned that when it came to science, it was safe to say the Latina excelled even though she tried not to show it. She hadn't been able to compete with her.
"I was going to be." Santana said, sitting up straighter and folding her legs beneath her. "But I wanted to work with childreninstead of adults, so being a paediatrician seemed to suit me best... and strangely, I didn't like the idea of cutting people open." She added dryly making Quinn laugh as she folded up some of her tee-shirts and placed them in a draw.
They fell silent for a moment as Quinn continued to unpack and Santana continued to flick through her new magazine. The comfortable silence was broken by the ringing of a cell phone and both girls looked to each other, before searching for their phones. Santana gave up looking for hers when she realised it wasn't actually her ringtone and grabbed Quinn's from the bed beside her.
Quinn abandoned her unpacking and rushed towards her, hands outstretched. Without warning Santana tossed the phone to Quinn, mouthing sorry when it grazed her and flew onto the rug behind her. Quinn sighed, turning to pick up the phone quickly before it stopped ringing. She answered and put the phone to her ear. "Hello?" she heard a woman's voice say. "I'm calling for Miss Fabray?"
"Hello." She answered tentatively not recognising the voice. She shrugged when Santana asked who it was, turning her back to her to save herself from being interrupted which was something the Latina didn't even realise she was doing. Santana rolled her eyes and sighed loudly, recognising that old trick. For a second she considered interrupting her anyway, but by the seriousness in Quinn's voice she decided it was probably safer not to if she valued her life in any way.
"This is Owen Martin's secretary from London House Fashion Magazine. I believe you are interested in working with our company?" The secretary asked sounding rather composed and completely stuck-up.
Interested? Quinn wasn't just interested in working there – it meant everything to her. The moment she'd seen it's advertisement in the previous month's magazine she had just known it was something she'd love. It would completely set her up and help her to get on her feet steadily, plus it was a job that she could have a real future with, it wasn't just a dead end job, but instead it was a career where she could really be passionate about.
"Yes, I am," she confirmed with a sharp nod of her head even though the secretary couldn't see. Santana just looked at her with narrowed eyes, wondering what could be so important that Quinn had to use her 'telephone' voice for. "Is there a problem with my application?"
"No, you've been selected as one of the final five applicants to be interviewed." The woman on the other side of the phone sounded entirely bored but Quinn couldn't care less. She had to clamp her mouth shut with her hand to stop herself from squealing before she allowed herself to speak.
"Oh thank-you. Is there any particular time?"
"Well, that's exactly why I'm calling," the secretary replied, sounding a little nicer than Quinn thought she'd intended too. "Owen Martin, the director, would like to schedule an interview for tomorrow if that is at all possible?"
"Yes. Yes of course. That would be perfect." Quinn breathed, giving Santana a thumbs up before shutting the draw she'd left open and was likely to walk into.
"Owen tends to work pretty late and has meetings up until seven tomorrow." Quinn could hear the rustling of paper on the other end of the line and instinctively held her breath. "He has meetings taking place after lunch, so would be able to attend an interview before then? Perhaps twelve o'clock?"
Quinn looked to Santana, covering the speaker with one hand whilst she mouthed to her, "Are we doing anything tomorrow?"
Santana shook her head in confirmation that no, they were not doing anything because she would be attending a lecture and Quinn turned away from her, pacing across the room. "No, tomorrow will be fine."
"Okay. Would it be possible for you to be at the Ivory Bar and Lounge for that time? The table will be under the name of Martin." The secretary informed and Quinn stalled. She'd only been in London for about four hours and had no idea where anything was.
"Yes, that'll be perfect." Quinn said before she could think about it any further. She could always use a map after all.
Quinn said a rushed thank-you and then the secretary clicked off. She looked directly into the mirror in front of her, a large smile lit up her angelic features. She hadn't changed much in the last six years. Her features were slightly more angular with maturity and her posture was strong but not ridged and defensive like it had been in high-school, her blonde hair just brushed past her shoulders and her hazel eyes were considerate and observant. She looked ready to move on and it was about time she managed to do so.
"What was that about?" Santana tossed the magazine on the floor and motioned for Quinn to join her where she sat crossed legged on the comfortable-looking bed. A mischievous grin played on Quinn's lips as she walked across the room. Santana watched her suspiciously, eyeing her with a grin. "You going to keep me waiting?" she asked and Quinn stopped, pretending to think about it.
"I would, but this is so good that I can't." She admitted and Santana laughed, puffing up a pillow and leaning it against the headboard. "Guess who has an interview tomorrow?" she teased, bouncing onto the bed next to Santana who simply rolled her eyes.
"Let me guess…"
"Yes! Me!" Quinn squealed, turning to face Santana. Her eyes were bright and vibrant with a new lease of life and Santana saw a side to Quinn that she hadn't seen for years. In fact, she hadn't even known this Quinn still existed.
"So, what's it for?" she asked, genuinely interested. Lately she'd been thinking a little too much about her most recent patient that she'd diagnosed with leukaemia. As a paediatrician, she dealt with a lot of young children under the age of ten, but one young three year old boy named Archie Jaxon had really caught her attention recently. She always told herself not to get emotionally involved, but recently she couldn't help it and it was driving her mad. She could really use the welcome distraction of Quinn being around to help keep her mind straight.
"It's for London House, the fashion magazine. Have you heard of it?" Santana shook her head. She hadn't heard of it, but that's because she never had any time to read anything unless it was a book about medicine. "Well, it's for a position as an interviewer at first. Kind of like a reporter I guess."
"Meaning you get to interview all the celebs that they feature?" Santana asked her eyes wide and her perfectly plucked eyebrows raised. Quinn bit her full bottom lip to stop her from smiling, but nodded.
"Yes. But don't jinx me!" she warned, gently nudging the brunette. "I really need to get through the interview first."
Santana chuckled, resting her arm over Quinn's shoulder. "Q, don't worry about the interview. If it all fucks up then fuck em'. I know you'll be fine."
"Like I said, don't jinx me." Quinn grinned, resting her head on Santana's shoulder with a sigh. "But for once, maybe I'll listen to you. If it goes wrong then fuck'em." She laughed. It was something Santana always said when she was under pressure of some kind and although the 'words of wisdom' weren't exactly helpful, they were somehow capable of soothing Quinn's nerves.
"Good." Santana nodded once sharply. "Fuck em' fuck em' fuck em'… But it isn't going to go wrong Quinn."
They both knew Quinn wouldn't really 'fuck'em' as Santana so elegantly put it, but if it all went wrong then it was nice to know she'd have a plan B. "Hopefully you're right." Quinn frowned, pulling a tread from the bottom of her cardigan. Santana smiled at her softly, pulling her into one of their rare hugs. Quinn wrapped her arms around Santana's neck and held onto her a little longer than necessary. It had been so long since they'd seen each other last, and it had been equally as long since both women had had someone to confine in that she didn't want to let go, afraid that if she did, Santana would disappear.
"I've missed you." She whispered, not even realising until it was too late that the words had left her lips. She expected Santana to pull away and give her some kind of sarcastic comment as a way of avoiding any display of vulnerability, so she was surprised when Santana did the opposite.
"I've missed you too Q." she said, squeezing the blonde a little tighter before releasing her.
Nothing more needed to be said, and they pulled away from each other comfortable in each other's presence.
Quinn climbed of the bed to continue un-packing, giving Santana's hand a light squeeze. She wanted to get everything un-packed and starting to feel more like home. She knew Santana didn't mind since she was hardly ever going to be home and Quinn just felt like once her stuff all had a place of its own she'd start to feel more secure and more at peace with her decision to run away to London. Santana stayed perched on the bed, watching the blonde carefully unpack.
Her eyes ran over the blonde's relaxed frame and in her mind she couldn't put the Quinn she knew six years back and this Quinn, this new Quinn, together. She knew the blonde had originally been offered an apprenticeship in London which is why she'd contacted Santana again in the first place. But then the contract she'd signed fell through and to Santana's surprise, Quinn still wanted to come to London. She just seemed so much more established and sure of herself in a way that wasn't cocky, but confident and self-assured and Santana felt pleased for her. She also didn't understand.
Santana sighed deeply, closing her eyes. She could hardly keep her large, dark eyes open as she let the pillows catch her and Quinn chuckled, placing her vast array of perfume bottles on the dresser.
"What are these?" Quinn asked, picking up a stack of papers from beside the desk. Santana opened one eye, saw the papers and then both eyes snapped open.
"Oh shit." Santana groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I have to sign all them for work next week."
Quinn passed her the stack of papers and Santana moaned as she got up from the bed, taking the stack of papers over to the desk and grabbing a pen from the draw.
"You can do those tomorrow night."
The brunette arched an eyebrow and smiled softly, putting down the pen before she'd even wrote anything. "Tomorrow? Why not tonight?"
"Because tonight, I want you to take me out."
"Ever thought of asking?" Santana smirked. It turned into a frown as she guided her finger over the complicated worded document in front of her. To Quinn it appeared as though she was contemplating how many hours of hard work the document promised, but really she was frowning over whether or not Quinn was asking her on a date.
"I would if I didn't already know you would say yes."
Santana pivoted in her seat, turning her top half to face the blonde. "You sure are cocky for someone who just accepted the fact that they're gay. Most people take a while to get comfortable in their skin and act like you are right now."
Quinn shrugged her shoulders. "I'm a quick learner. But don't worry, I'm not asking you on a date." She reassured the Latina and Santana reclined in her chair, her famous playful smirk spreading across her features. She would be offended, but she already knew that she wasn't Quinn's type and Quinn wasn't her type either, that's why living together worked so well. "So... would you like to take me somewhere tonight? Show me around London and all that…"
"That depends. Where would you like to go?" she folded her arms over her chest, contemplating where was best to take the blonde. A little gay-bar down town crossed her mind but she quickly dismissed it. Although Quinn had been out for nearly six-months, she wasn't nearly as comfortable with her sexuality as Santana was with hers. She kept her sexuality repressed, desperate for it not to define who she was and whilst Santana understood, she knew Quinn still had a long way to go before she could be as open as her.
Quinn pondered over the question for a minute or so, wondering what she wanted to see most. Of course, she wanted to see everything. To experience everything she possibly could so that she'd feel like she was given a new chance at life, but that was going to be impossible to do in one night. Finding that kind of peace and solace was going to take time. It was going to be a gradual process full of twists and turns and she was going to have to go through a lot before she could finally accept herself. She was getting there, day-by-day piecing little pieces of herself together, but time was what she needed. She decided that she'd let Santana decide where they ended up, even if she might live to regret that later on.
"Anywhere. It's up to you."
"Okay then, we'll go to my favourite place. It's a surprise and you'll need a jacket and sneakers. None of those high heels that make your legs look like they go on for miles." Quinn arched an eyebrow. "Don't think anyone you've walked past, gay or straight, hasn't noticed."