Sumary: The Titans is an out-of-law motorcycle club based in Lima, Ohio, and that virtually rules the city. But what does that have to do with Quinn Fabray, former Cheerio, who got her ticket to far away from Lima when she was accepted at Yale? Everything. Because if it weren't for the Fabrays, the Titans could never have existed, and if it weren't for the Titans, she might never have returned. When Russell had a stroke, making him step out from the club lead, Quinn is forced to return to Lima and take her father chair and continue the group business. Some time later, Rachel returns to town to solve some problems of the pass that impede her to move forward with her life. And because of a broken car in the middle of the road the two are reunited, resurrecting a feeling that both thought to be dead and buried.
A/N: This is my first Faberry fiction. It's inspired by the Sons of Anarchy but isn't a Crossover, since its an diferent MC. I don't own nothing here, just Connor and the english mistakes.
Chapter 1 - Sweet Home Ohio
Titans. A word, common noun, six letters. Simple, but carries a very important meaning for the small Lima, a city within Ohio, a few miles from the state capital. No, we're talking about the infamous football team of the William McKinley High, the school district just wanted to pay homage, a tribute watered with much sarcasm and irony, since the team could lose every game of the season, in the most absurd ways possible.
The Titans of this story is a club of motorcyclists who almost rules the city. Founded in the 50s by formers soldiers returning from the Korean War, it was a community half hippie, half rebellious, seen as a group of rioters who wanted to end the local lifestyle. Over time the club became a group as respected as the church or the little league teams, all that thanks to the money received from illegal casinos, strip clubs and the type of violent justice that was more efficient than the local police .
But what does this have to do with Quinn Fabray, ex-Cheerio, who got her ticket to far away from Lima when she was accepted at Yale? Everything. Because if it weren't for Fabrays, the Titans could never have existed, and if wasn't for the Titans, she might never have returned.
RJ Fabray, her grandfather, was one of the seven founders of the club, and when he died, Russel came to Belleville to assume his post of control. It was like a family business, passed from father to son in a vicious cycle without end. She still could hear her father lecturing about how it was important to keep the Titans alive, since it was part of the story and were the proof of how powerful was the pride Fabray.
She wasn't sure how much time she was involved in this, but Quinn knew that since Russell had a stroke and the blonde was practically forced to assume the head of the whole organization. And in the meantime the girl realized that if she left the club, the only decent legacy of her family, it would be tantamount to condemning it to a slow and painful death, and also leave Lima at the mercy of neo-Nazis, drug dealers and all the scum with a little foresight to realize how small towns can be profitable.
With all this in her head as the icy midnight wind hitting her face, the fog became more dense as the black Harley Dyna Wide Glide cut the highway with the engine roaring furiously through the darkness. The blond hair partially hidden by the half-helmet flew with the drift when it increased the speed, giving a slight spin on the handlebars.
The hazel eyes took on a bright golden hue while her bike was running free, without worrying ignoring the limit signs along the roadside. That was the best time of day, everyone was asleep, especially the police who should be watching that part of the highway. It was just Quinn and the asphalt under the tires, this was her own definition of freedom. A freedom that lasted until sunrise, because with the first light of morning, the problems began to come to her door.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a red light that came into his field of vision. It should be a broken car on the roadside, waiting for someone to pass. Her fingers ran the brake lever, slowing, stopping a few feet away from the car.
As she released the clamp that held the helmet on the head, the blonde glanced at the vehicle. It was a sedan, probably Ford, half gray, half silver and looking like it came out of a rental and sloppy. Down the bike, leaving the helmet on the bench, taking the leather gloves, keeping in the back pocket of her jeans, and placing the night glasses in the pocket of the club cut. There was a little silhouette behind the wheel, should be a woman but she couldn't say with certainty, since the windows were fogged because of thick stupor.
"I've called the garage winch and I have pepper spray with me." Shouted a voice from inside the car, visibly bored. "I also know some self defense moves, since the streets of New York is a much more dangerous place than this, and I'm sure the police will arrive here any minute, because it is their role as employees paid by the state of Ohio protect roads at night. "
The blonde laughed. She rested her elbow on the roof of the car and gave a smirk.
"I don't know about the pepper spray and the self defense but, I think that the cops are being paid to sleep. At least that was what they were doing when I passed by their booth, a few miles behind," She said with a lighthearted tone.
"Oh," cried a voice from inside the vehicle, Quinn found it very familiar. "I will ask for my assistant write a letter to the traffic department of Ohio to make a formal complaint about it. Thanks for the warning, but you can go now. "
The ex-cheerrio shook her head from side to side, finding the woman's eloquence somewhat amusing.
"Some one already told you that you talk too much and too fast? I almost can't pay attention. Looks like a machine gun spitting out words. "A grin came on the corner of her lips, thinking of the situation even more grace.
That's when she had an epiphany. The only person in the world that was able to speak so many words in so little time, with perfect English. Her hands froze for a minute, the heart started pounding and wild in the chest, the blonde threw the blame on the cold night and in the absence of caffeine in the blood.
"Rachel? "
Quinn asked, wanting to hear a 'What Rachel? Are you crazy? 'For the driver who was there.
The glass was falling slowly, revealing tan-skinned woman with a white coat, of a very thin fabric, dark hair, stuck in a messy ponytail, chocolate eyes that sparkled with surprise to see the blonde in front. Her mouth was ajar and outlined dropping a word, almost inaudibly.
"Quinn Fabray?" She said looking with an expression on her face that was a mixture of grief and surprise with something else that remained an enigma. "What are you doing here?" Were the only sentences that the brain of the Diva could make, before getting lost in the hazel immensity that looked with curiosity.
"I do the same question, Man Hands." Answered evasively and with a contemptuous tone.
"I asked first." The brunette said with a false accusatory tone, using the same trick as the other.
"I went back for some time." She rolled her eyes and arched an eyebrow, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And you shouldn't be in New York or something." 'At least, that's what Kurt told' she said to herself, rubbing her fingers against the palm of her hand nervously and supporting the elbow on the roof.
"Good .. Err ... I. .. "she stammered, trying to decide whether to count or not the reasons for his visit to that he had made his life during high school a living hell. "I have a personal issue to resolve here" It was logical that she chose the second option.
"Hmm .. Cool "Quinn got your back straight and her eyes wandered from one place to another, avoiding eye contact with the singer, who analyzed from top to bottom, as if the blonde was an animal to be dissected in biology class.
Rachel was wondering, and rightly so. The last memory she had of Quinn was a meeting in a supermarket, on the holiday of Thanksgiving, during the second year of college, in which the blonde hair was long again, and she was wearing a floral dress. Now, she wore a shabby jeans, a pair of dirty black Converse, a Yale's dark blue hoodie, the famous Titans's cuts on top, and short hair and completely messed up. The visual contrast between the two was difficult to miss by the little diva.
"I didn't expect to find you here," Rachel said while struggled to loosen the car belt who insisted on staying locked. "I thought you would try something in Hollywood."
The other one helped her, opening the door in a facility that made the brunette let out a sigh, and Quinn stretched out her hand right away, providing support to facilitate the descent of the car. A knot in Rachel's throat was born on contact with the soft and delicate skin. She felt a shiver through her body and a chill up the spine. The blonde had always been polite, at least when she wanted to be and was one of the qualities that Rachel liked.
"The things not always happen the way we plan," Quinn said in a bitter tone, seeing the direction that her life had taken. What an irony! Graduating from Yale and return to Lima, to perpetuate the blinkered Russel's mindset... And worst of all, she liked that lifestyle, in which she could do what she pleased, because she was protected under the symbol of the Titans in her back, like a superhero uniform. That simple leather cut and the bike wielding through the streets gave an unimaginable power to her, much larger than the red, white and black uniform of Cheerio had in high school.
The Diva nodded, agreeing with the statement.
Her marriage with Finn could be fitted into this category. Everyone knew that the boy wasn't material to NY, but Rachel insisted on dragging him with as a safe haven for when she feel bad. In the end, by the third year of college, the girl realized that the lack of ambition and selfishness of the boy were an anchor that kept evolving, not only as artist but as a person too.
"You took the presidency of the Titans?" Questioned the brunette, when her chocolate eyes settled on the inscription "President" marked on the vest.
"Yes," Quinn said in a drought. Her attention was being used to study the woman ahead of her. The light jacket (probably some famous designer) covered the black dress, the arms and legs shapely show, since the outfit ended a few inches above the knee, and heels that leave her as the same size of the blonde. 'Not bad' she thought, looking for something in her pants pockets. "And apparently, you abandoned the animals sweaters and the weird combinations."
"I have a personal stylist now" The diva had an irritable tone, crossed his arms and is anchored in the car. She was waited for this provocation, sooner or later. Kurt made a joke like that when he met her last month.
The blonde smiled and picked up a pack of cigarettes with a tightly crumpled. "I would offer, but it's my last" talked sarcastically, knowing the reaction that the brunette would have.
Rachel rolled her eyes. Smoking was a habit she hated, it did make a terrible evil to her vocal cords. 'Typical of Quinn Fabray trying to pushing my buttons' she reflected.
The sepulchral silence was established between them. Sure, because everyone expects to be on a highway in the middle of nowhere next to the girl that you have unresolved feelings and that she shooed you out of her life when you finally admitted what you felt. That goes for both parties...
'God, what legs' the blonde thought when Rachel crossed her legs in an elegant gesture. 'Stop it now! You just think that Rachel "Treasure Trail" Berry had killer legs and was a tremendously hot ... Stop looking at, she'll notice, 'scolded another part of the blonde's brain.
"Want to call someone? Your Dads, Kurt, Tina..."Quinn said between a puff and another, trying to seem impersonal.
"My Dads are on a cruise and don't return after tomorrow, and Kurt is in LA." The diva looked her well cared nails, avoiding eye contact. She knew if she looked to the other girl, she'll eventually make a madness. "And why would I want to call Tina? I don't talk to her long ago, "The Diva's voice rose a tone, and seemed more a complaint than anything else.
"I don't know ... She was your only bridesmaid, you two were good friends and she still lives in Lima..." She shrugged, as she put the cigarette back in her mouth.
Rachel didn't answer. Instead the girl stood with her gaze fixed on the end of the road.
"You can go if you want" The brunette massaged his temples with the tips of the fingers. "The winch should be coming in no time"
"No, it's alright" Quinn used the voice more bored she could do.
She turned briefly to play cigarette out and her eyes fell on the girl again. The diva spent her hands repeatedly in her arms for warmth, but without success, her lips began to win a purple tone, and the shoulders shrank, reducing the area in which the wind touches. The coat was too thin to withstand the cold of the night, while a further two weeks of winter.
And before that Quinn's neurons could think, she was removing her Yale hoodie and extending the brunette. Okay, that wasn't the best of situations, but the blonde couldn't let the other die of cold, she could get hypothermia or something.
"I don't need your coat." The diva politely dismissed, holding firmly to plan to avoid the piercing eyes of Quinn Fabray.
"Rachel ... Take it. You're shaking" The name came from an attempt to make her accept the kindness while Quinn was putting the vest back under the white t-shirt, a little larger than she, and shook her jacket in her left hand.
"No, you'll be cold" The diva hinted concern in the sentence.
"I'm used to go out this time. Moreover, the Titans's cut is very warm. "Argued, sensibly resting the right hand on the brunette's shoulder.
"No, thank you," retorted.
"Take that. Stop being such stubborn for once and put this fucking hoodie." In an outburst, the blonde pulled the brunette's arm, causing her to spin on her heels and stand face to face again.
Only a few inches separated their faces. The expressive eyes of Rachel reminded of a cornered animal, facing the edge of a lion attack. The mouth ajar outlined as an invitation to sin. Quinn's heart had become even more elusive, a nuisance took care of the stomach, her skin starts to sweat. Even after so long time, her body still reacted only to the mere possibility of kissing so delicious lips, the sweet taste of her kiss urges in the blonde's tongue like a snap. It took a lot of willpower not to grab Rachel right there.
"Take It" The ex-cheerio gasped, pushing her coat against the fingers of the singer. With a deep breath, she let go before she committed anything stupid.
"Tha... thank you" The diva said, feeling a slight dizziness when getting involved with the garment. The aroma of vanilla and jasmine was intoxicating. She had lost count of how many times she tried to find something similar to that. Of course that still had the smell of gasoline, but she tried to fix in the original essence of the owner of that piece of clothing.
Quinn just shrugged as if it were nothing and anchored in the car, by spreading her hands in the hood.
"So ... The Clash huh ... " Rachel said looking to the band in stamp of the t-shirt before the strange silent started again.
"Yeah ..." The blonde ran her fingers through bangs, throwing her hair behind the ear, in a careless gesture. "Wait, Rachel Berry knows something besides music and pop music?" The right eyebrow arched in derision. She couldn't miss such a good opportunity to tease the Jew.
"I know." The brunette proudly puffed out his chest. "I don't know if you remember, but I went to NYADA, and music history class had to learn about all the important musical movements and punk was a movement begun in England by Sex Pistols and The Clash ...
"You know then, I get it." She rolled her eyes and laughed. It was forgotten that the diva was a smart-ass. "This isn't my favorite band, but it was the only clean shirt that was in Connor's closet ..."
"Who is Connor"
'Damn' Quinn thought realizing that she had spoken something that would raise embarrassing questions. Why must it be so easy to talk with Rachel Berry? Why did she have that gift of making the blonde talk about things that didn't want talk with anyone?
Quinn sighed and straightened her hair once more.
"It's ... It's my boyfriend ..." She replied, seeing the expression of fear in the face of the other.
"I thought you were gay" Rachel commented, trying to conceal the surprise in her voice.
And that bothered Quinn, because she remembered the harsh words, the unexpectedly storm off, the many missed calls and the sleepless nights, waiting for some sign that would indicate that everything would be fine between the two. Thing that never came ...
Her fingers itched the hair on the neck, demonstrating her nervousness by Rachel just be playing the theme.
" If you don't want to talk about it I understand" The Jew spoke as if she had been wounded by silence.
"No, not that ... I just ... Just ... I discovered that I'm bi, but that prefers more women" The blonde was uncomfortable discussing the matter, but thought it needed to explain the story better.
The brunette just nodded.
"And you? Are you seeing anyone?" It was the only question that came into the blonde's mind to change the course of the conversation.
When Rachel opened her mouth to respond, a blur of light appeared, then the trailer with the logo of the Hummel-Hudson Garage, former Hummel Tires & Lub, appears and parks close to the two women. Quinn's blood ran cold as ice. It wasn't possible, the brunette had the guts to call Finn to come get her, even after the marriage ended in an incredibly dramatic, with the girl throwing the giant's things out the window because he refused to leave... Again, a gossip made by Kurt...
The door opened and tired Burt Hummel went down, with a few more wrinkles and wearing a plaid robe over his pajamas.
"Rachel, Quinn" greeted, receiving a warm embrace of the brunette.
"Burt" The blonde said in a light tone, taking the pair of gloves where they were stored and wearing them.
"I would have come with the club vest, but as you see, I was already in bed when someone called me." He scratched his temple, hoping to receive a lecture by the lack of club cut.
"It's fine by me, you're working anyways" She spoke, putting the glasses back on her face. "See you tomorrow at the Chapel" Quinn walked toward the bike, thought that at least the time took a bit of sanity into Rachel's head. "Bye Rach, see you around."
"Bye Quinn" came out almost like a whisper.
The blonde just put the helmet and took off, not expecting much and not looking back, but with eyes holding hot tears that wanted to step down her face.
Quinn tried to creep in at home. In her wristwatch, almost three in the morning, and darkness helped her to walk in sneaky way back to bed, which was where she should be at that hour. She crossed the room, the hallway between the living room and kitchen and up the stairs without making the slightest noise.
Upon entering the room, the sigh of relief, the man of almost 1.80 and spiked brown hair, was still lying on his back, covered to the neck. The blonde sat down, took off her shoes and pants, and tossed off the club cut, along with one identical to yours, but with the inscription 'Sgt At Arms' on the right side.
"It was good to ride?" The heavy hand touching shoulder almost made her jump with fright.
"Damn Connor! Do you want to give me a heart attack? "She put her hand to her chest, staring at the guy who smiled, laughing at what had just happened. His green eyes sparkled for being able to make her feel nervous.
"Nobody dies of an heart attack at 25" he said sarcastically. "Unless you have a birth problem, or eat a huge amount of fat ... even though you eat too much bacon, especially when you're sad." Connor frowned and scratched the tip of the left eyebrow. "So… How was the ride?"
The blonde stroked her face tired to drive and lay down, pulling the blanket. She thought that telling the truth because the blonde knew how Connor was burst and impulsive. He could go in the house of Rachel Berry get satisfaction, or worse, go to the Hummels to talk with the brunette and find Finn, and he hated the former quarterback.
"I found a broken car on the road" Her voice came slowly, as if preparing to give bad news. "And she was there."
"She who?" He leaned his elbow on the mattress and chin in his palm, with a puzzled expression on his face.
"She. Rachel" Quinn said, turning her head on the pillow and looking for her boyfriend.
"What Rachel?" Connor narrowed his eyes, thinking.
"The one I used to bully in school ..."
"What school? You had gone to several..." He scratched his chin still not knowing who she was talking.
"The McKinley's Rachel" She said starting to get irritated.
"OOOW The Rachel. Is the one that you try to catch a grenade for her, jump in front of a train for her? "ran his hand over unshaven, still thoughtful.
"Yeah," responded with boredom.
"The one to whom you told that you loved her in the first day of senior year, spent several months making out in the bathroom and some beautiful day she freaked out and decided to marry her boyfriend, who happened to be your ex?"
"Yeah," Quinn squeezed the space between the eyebrows
"The one that gone to NY and you said you had a delicious mouth, some drool tights and…"
"YEEEEES, THAT RACHEL" The blonde shouted impatiently, and slapped in the face of her boyfriend, causing him a fit of laughter.
"I love it when you pop this way" He laid against the mattress with a huge smile on his lips. "So ... Do you talked to your Rachel?"
She ran a hand through his eyes and sighed. It was just what was missing that kind of talk at this time of morning ...
"I said. She was cool, "said in a cold
"Cool like,'Let's go talk about the high school times' or like 'I came back because I want to kiss you until your brain explode and end up on top of your bike having wild sex in the middle of the road'?"
Quinn arched eyebrow for what she had just heard.
"You watch much porn, you know ... and no, neither of these" She said, causing him to be disappointed. "It was cool, cool."
"So what's the problem?" He asked in a lighthearted tone.
"The problem is that I inadvertently let slip that we were dating," The blonde crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling. 'I should have stayed silent' she thought, martyring for starting the conversation.
"But for the club members and their parents, we are." Connor shrugged, sometimes Quinn's tense posture bothered him. "Only you, Santana and I know it's all a facade, I'm your beard, or whatever is the lesbian version of the term."
"I know" The blonde stroked her face once more. She hated it when he played the innocent.
"Besides, the people of the city likes a gossip, she would end up finding it. Better she hear it from you than some gossip girl, like Tina or Mercedes, or worst, by Finn Hudson." He said in a lighthearted tone, seeing how Quinn was getting nervous, but the in the scary way, and he's afraid of Scary Quinn.
She pondered. Maybe Connor was right. If Rachel find it out by Finn, which was very likely, because Burt had to get her in the middle of the night, the consequences could be far worse. Also, the brunette discovered that the blonde had someone, it would be good to show that the ex-cheerio could go on, despite never having forgotten the singer all these years.
"Glad you're got my back, C" She turned her head and found Connor with his mouth open and body sprawled across the bed. "And you can always ruin those moments."
"I love you too" He answered, stopping to pretend he was asleep "I Just don't kiss you because I know that the fruit I like, you suck it to the core. Literally."
"This wasn't funny" The blonde laughed, turning to lay on bed
So.. did you guys like it? I'm always open to suggestions =)
