Racing and Pacing (And Plotting the Course)
Characters: Rachel Berry; Quinn Fabray; Santana Lopez; Brittany Pierce.
Note: This was born out of a prompt, available at my tumblr, beyondcanon. If you haven't seen it, I'd strongly suggest you read it, because it's awesome and totally crack. Also, the title belongs to the Cake song "The Distance".
The story will be divided in two parts. At first, we will see how it all develops to Mustangs and racing and Faberry and Brittana. The second part will be about the present moment, described by the prompt.
Those who follow me on Tumblr have seen this already. This transition to will culminate with the final chapter for Part I.
Full Summary: In Ohio's Lima city limits live the four best racers in the Midwest. Racing for fun, life, and money, all the while going to the same school. They also happen to be best friends, though they're more than that to their significant others.
Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray.
Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce.
The four best racers in the Midwest.
(01)
1. Rachel
They started racing long before they had a license. When your father sells cars – even better, when your father owns Ford franchises all over America – it becomes impressively easy to steal one or two so you can go for a ride. It takes a well-played innocence, the distraction of security personnel, the right passwords and then you're out, engines revving and your best friends laughing as you take the road.
Rachel Berry would know. She started doing that at the tender age of 13, in response to one of Santana's dares. They weren't friends back then. Santana, Brittany and Quinn were the Unholy Trinity, tearing apart anyone who crossed their path, and Rachel was just… Rachel. Another outcast. Tired of insults, of being pushed against the lockers, and of the scrutiny of Quinn's intense look, she did the unthinkable and talked back.
Santana never retreats. Rachel didn't give in. The following Friday, it was done. It was Santana's 14th birthday and she had been dying to drive a nice set of wheels ever since her older brother taught her how to, a month prior. Rachel's father had nice cars, begging to be taken for a ride. It was necessary, the three girls told Rachel. They came up with a plan.
Breaking the law brings people together. Trespassing boundaries unites people with the secret of a shared experience that should be denied. The Unholy Trinity was with her when she executed the plan, sharing the adrenaline rush and the expectation for the turnout. The universe conspired in her favor that day. The car key felt hot in her hands as they walked towards the garage.
She was a good girl, she really was. She just needed to prove she wasn't afraid of anything or anyone. She trusted one of her father's cars in Santana's hands. The four of them looked at each other and silently formed a bond right then and there. When they hit the road and there was nothing but the four of them and Santana could go faster, Rachel felt it wouldn't be their last time.
It took them several weeks, but they did learn how to drive. Santana took it upon herself to teach them what she knew, and proved to be excellent at it. She was firm and direct and patient, not nearly as insufferable as her Cheerio self. The pedals, the engine, the gears, the hands on the steering wheel and the permanent, multi-focused attention: Santana was born to drive.
Rachel was first, after they all agreed she had special rights since the car technically belonged to her father. It took time. Rachel had to trust Santana, had to take risks and act on instinct. She wasn't very good at doing any.
The first time she successfully drove to the limits of town, they opened a bottle of wine together.
Quinn comes second. Rachel is forbidden to watch, because Quinn does not want witnesses to her every mistake. Brittany and Rachel go to Burt to ask him about different types of cars. He answers with excitement, maybe because his own son is gay and uninterested in anything besides Broadway and fashion. He also keeps his promise of never telling anyone about their visits.
Brittany learns the fastest, to Rachel's surprise. She just knows what to do, without being told. She knows when the curve of the road is appropriate for this or that speed, she knows when it's time to shift gears, and she knows how to get through a busy avenue in the most fluid of motions. Santana has a smug look on her face when she tells them Brittany is ready and they pop open another bottle of wine.
Rachel just turned 14. She is still not used to the wine, and her head feels light. It feels good to have some sort of friends. They toast.
It's the start of something.
Rachel's parents notice she is out of the house more often. They ask. She answers. There is no need to tell them what exactly the four of them are up to, however. She masks it with descriptions of going out for ice cream, of hanging out at least once a week, telling them how good it is to be around them. It's not a lie.
Their excitement over her making new friends makes her feel like a toddler, but she ignores it. She is far from being a popular kid. She is one of those people who, if lucky, will get one or two best friends and hopefully pass unnoticed enough not be bullied by people like Quinn and Santana.
Except Rachel cannot accept indifference. She needs to be the center of attention, even if it's negative. She wants attention. She wants to make it big someday.
Quinn's blatant rejection is better than being ignored. Quinn's angry remarks, Quinn's cold stare, Quinn calling her names: it's all better than nothing. She doesn't tell her parents about that. She knows they'll jump to conclusions. And Quinn, she's… something else. There is something the girl never tells. Rachel knows it.
She takes Quinn all in. She never second guesses.
Santana is the one who comes up with the idea first: racing. Driving has become boring. There is nothing new or exciting about getting themselves a car now, after doing it so many times. Santana says they ought to get two. It's a Sunday afternoon and they're at her house by the pool. Rachel tries not to be self-conscious about her own body when she has three gorgeous women around her, but it's hard.
Quinn's skin looks soft. It is the most flawless texture Rachel has ever seen, like a Greek statue, marble as a perfect imitation of the human body. No scars. No stretch marks.
Quinn catches her staring and she looks the other way. She doesn't want to give her the wrong impression.
The Lopez family owns a big, impeccably clean two-story house. There are big glass windows and an advanced security system. When they walk, the sound echoes throughout the house. Nothing makes a sound. Santana is always alone. Her father is a surgeon, the type that goes around the country saving people. Her mother makes herself busy. They live there because the rest of their family lives there: brothers, uncles, cousins, and the legendary grandmother. Why had they chosen that town, decades before, remains a mystery to Rachel.
Brittany agrees with Santana, as usual. Santana is looking at Quinn and Rachel from inside the pool, letting Brittany play with her hair. Quinn says whatever. Rachel remains silent.
Quinn is always indifferent.
Rachel is a good girl, with impeccable grades and pristine behavior. Racing is dangerous and illegal. There are accidents and deaths. They don't have licenses. They could die.
Life as a teenager in a town like that is, more often than not, boring. It's hot outside, and there is nothing to do and nothing to feel. No one is at the park. Every once in a while a bird sings, or the wind blows on a few leaves and they watch it rustle. Quinn bears an empty look, and Rachel wonders what she is thinking.
She just wants to feel alive, sometimes.
Santana's parents have two cars. They are traveling to someone's wedding. It will do. It's Santana against Brittany first. Rachel's mouth feels dry and she crosses her fingers in her pockets and prays for the best. She looks sideway a few times, to see Quinn's reactions. The girl looks mildly interested, for a change. Brittany wins and does a victory dance when she leaves the car. Quinn smiles. Santana ends up smiling too.
Rachel doesn't know what makes her more nervous: the race or Quinn.
The engine is hot, like everything around them. Rachel looks up to the blue sky before entering the car. She is not ready. But things never happen when you're ready. Brittany yells and off they go, fast enough that they barely hear her giggle in excitement. Rachel drives without conscious thought or intention. It's amazing how much you can internalize after some practice.
Rachel doesn't settle for anything less than winning. Her foot is heavy on the accelerator and she soon hits the kind of speed that would usually make her terrified. But when she leaves Quinn behind and the finish line is so close, she just has to keep at it. She has no fear. She doesn't think about the risks and the dangers. She is on top of her game. She wins.
When she opens the door and gets out of the car, the adrenaline becomes too much and she can barely walk. Santana actually says she wasn't so bad, for a midget. A compliment from Santana is something unheard of in the history of the universe so Rachel nods silently, afraid of what might happen if she says anything.
Quinn just looks at Rachel, but she doesn't understand what it means.
02. Quinn
Quinn hated Rachel. She hated her ridiculous clothes, her perfect voice, and her gigantic nose. The girl was like a basket case begging to be bullied. So Quinn did it. And there was an exquisite pleasure in it, in watching her face right after being thrown against a locker, or having her things thrown on the ground, or being insulted by as many people as possible. It was easy making that happen, being a Cheerio and on top of the food chain. Quinn was a queen.
And she hated Rachel with the heat of a thousand suns.
Things were at their best when Santana and Brittany were around. They held her back, they understood where she was coming from. When they were together, things were… different. There was a connection between them for doing something thrilling and forbidden. There was something soothing in those moments at Burt's car shop, or breaking into their parents' bedroom to steal their car keys, hoping they would never notice how many more miles the odometer would show the next day.
She still hated Rachel Berry, though. She hated her short skirts, she hated her long legs, she hated how her laugh could fill a room, and she hated how the scent of her shampoo would take over everything when the wind blew. She hated how Rachel licked her ice cream cone. She hated how she never talked back when she said anything mean.
And Rachel Berry won their first race.
Quinn can't let many things go. This was just one of them. So she challenged Rachel to more races. Eventually, it became just the two of them. She would do anything, anything to take that smug smile off Rachel's face whenever she was challenged. Quinn wanted to prove Rachel was born to lose.
Quinn's eyes flare in anger when she sees two jocks picking on Rachel. She looks tiny and defenseless against two huge black football players. She hadn't ordered it. She hadn't planned it. No one goes behind her back as long as she rules those halls, and it was time those boys learned that lesson.
Quinn is possessive. Rachel might be a loser, but she is her loser. No one touches her.
Santana notices it too, and the Unholy Trinity moves in perfect sync to make the brutes clear out of the way. They part like the Red Sea under Moses's command. Quinn chooses the one on the right, Santana takes the one on the left, and Brittany places a hand on Rachel's shoulder solemnly. Santana is absolutely fearless and terrifying, and when she goes on one of her rants she fills a room with her anger and wit.
It's one of the many reasons they are so good together.
Quinn has everything under her fingers, and she makes it clear. She can ruin their practices, she can ruin their tests, she can ruin their future careers. She can poison their foods and change their grades and she knows all there is to know about their wrongdoings. She can take down any student in that ridiculous, mediocre school.
Her tone is cold and she never raises her voice. The entire school learns no one is to touch Rachel. She is their protégé now.
Quinn breathes in and out, the steering wheel beneath her hands as they take one last moment to pull themselves together. Their tenth race was supposed to mean something. She needed to win. Rachel had won four races and she had won five. Winning was supposed to mean something, even if she couldn't tell what it was yet.
She needed to focus. Rachel was good. She never looked down, she never backed out of a challenge. She was good at complicated tracks, at turns and obstacles. Quinn was better with speed. She could control the car like no other. She could weigh other people's flaws in a heartbeat. It applied to life and it applied to racing. She decided she would go for that one highway, straight as an arrow, at night. There was no way Rachel could win. Nothing could go wrong. Not when she had the perfect track and her father's car.
Her father could never know.
She looked towards Rachel. The girl was focused on the road. She was intense, too intense. Quinn sneered. Rachel's biggest mistake was letting too much show. It was irritating and ridiculous. She should know how to hide everything under the surface. People wouldn't hurt you if they didn't know your weak spots. People should always be guessing, always wondering. No one could take you down if they didn't know how.
It begins. Quinn tries to clear her mind and focus on the road and on the road only, the sound of the engine telling her everything she needs to know. She takes the lead and she almost, almost smiles. She was born to take the lead. She licks her lips anxiously because she isn't really used to driving at night, and the sounds of her father's car tell her she can't push it much further for a while. You must listen to the car. You must respect what it tells you it can or can't do.
Rachel catches up. It can't be possible. Suddenly Rachel is in front of her and she can't pass her. The car is trembling beneath her and she can't even stay by Rachel's side because the bitch is taking the entire highway on purpose.
She loses. They are officially tied: five to five. She hates Rachel. She hates that she's such a worthy opponent. She hates that ridiculous yellow miniskirt she is wearing. She hates everything. They both look at each other breathlessly, until Quinn closes the distance between them. Rachel looks startled and terrified and Quinn hates her so much she can't properly demonstrate. Her body meets Rachel's at once, pinning her against the car. She feels warm.
Quinn kisses her.
No one denies Quinn. Rachel promptly responds. Quinn deepens the kiss hungrily, tongue against Rachel's. Rachel moans, hands sinking into blonde hair, and Quinn feels a type of new and overwhelming desire. She bites, and the second moan she gets goes straight to her crotch. Her hips press against Rachel's.
It's late at night. It's desert around them. It's getting out of hand.
03. Brittany
Brittany gets in the car and puts on her seatbelt. This time, the cars belong to Quinn's father. It's unsettling. Nothing can go wrong when you have one of Mr. Fabray's sweet rides. Santana looks at her from the other car, both hands on the steering wheel, and they nod to each other. They both have their hair up in tight ponytails, not bothering to restyle them after Cheerios practice.
Santana is beautiful.
Brittany looks ahead, to the road in front of them. She is not smart with books and historic dates and geometry. She knows that. Everybody knows that. She heard when her Math teacher told her History teacher he thought she would learn more by skipping class.
She ignores it. She's smart in other ways.
Santana takes off first, tires screeching, and Brittany follows. She loves to drive, and she's great at it. Of the four of them, Brittany was the one who learned the fastest. It takes her 33 seconds to catch up to Santana. She winks and blows her a kiss.
She can't recall the names of all 50 presidents, or how to tell the difference between an egg with a chicken in it and an egg with an egg in it. But she has great peripheral vision and exceptional instincts. She visualizes the road and her surroundings in detail. Her reaction time is faster and more precise than anyone else's.
She notices some things before anyone else, too. The first time she looks at Kurt, she sees past his baseball hat and boy clothes and she knows he suffers because he is gay. The first time she looks at Mercedes, she understands her yearning for acceptance. She looks at Ms. Pillsbury and just knows there is something pathologic about her organizational habits.
She wins by a margin of four seconds.
She exits the car and hugs Santana, hiding her face in her neck and giggling. Santana hugs her back tightly, lifting her off the ground. Santana's perfume is citric and unmistakable. Brittany could recognize it from a mile, for years.
The things Brittany knows remain secret. She doesn't need to share. She looks at Quinn standing next to Rachel and ignoring her majestically, and she knows Quinn is in love.
The empty bottle of wine on the floor proves they are tipsy.
Brittany giggles, stretched out on Santana's bed. Santana smiles. Santana is beautiful when she smiles. She is at her best when it's just the two of them, when she is neither pressured by her parents to be something else nor scrutinized by the students at their school. Brittany's hand ends up on Santana's stomach.
Brittany's head feels light and dizzy. She loves Mr. Lopez's taste in wine.
Santana always gets touchier when she drinks. Her hands run through Brittany's hair, massaging her scalp until she's purring, eyes closed. She caresses Brittany's skin, slow and determined. She palms Brittany's thigh as her hands go back and forth when they sit in front of each other to talk.
Santana intertwines her fingers with Brittany's, their joined hands rising and falling with Santana's breathing.
Santana says she's going to tell Brittany a secret. Brittany nods. Santana says that, sometimes, she wants to kiss Brittany. She's staring at Brittany's mouth and Brittany licks her lips without realizing it. She wonders how it would feel to kiss Santana's lips. People say Santana is a great kisser.
So she closes the distance and joins their lips. Santana gasps. Brittany's stomach flutters and flutters and flutters. They kiss again and again. Brittany starts nipping at Santana's lower lip and Santana parts her lips a bit. They deepen the kiss.
It feels like a dream.
Brittany is practicing some dance moves in her room when Quinn shows up. The window opens and Quinn barges in, without warning or even a proper and polite excuse me. Quinn looks normal in her shorts and t-shirt, but Brittany knows something is wrong.
Quinn throws herself onto Brittany's bed dramatically, face down, hiding under a pillow. It's silly. Brittany can still see her, muscles tense and expecting.
Brittany lets the music play because it's jazzy and soft. She doesn't know what Quinn is expecting her to do, but she can wait. People are ready when they're ready. She knows when to push and when to wait.
If Quinn made it all the way there, she would eventually say something.
When Quinn says she kissed Rachel and Brittany wasn't allowed to tell anyone, Brittany doesn't even flinch. She already knew their dynamics. Kissing was to be expected. There is nothing wrong with kissing girls; Brittany does it. It feels right. People should do what feels right.
Quinn is so afraid of so much. Like Santana, sometimes. Brittany sits by Quinn's side, letting her friend express all of her frustration and anger. Quinn, like Santana, gets angry when she has to deal with feelings. Brittany sees through it. Quinn likes Rachel and doesn't know what to do with it. She's in love, but it doesn't match her expectations for herself.
No one else holds you back but yourself. Your limitations and restrictions? You are the one who builds them, for one reason or another. Brittany knows it. Quinn doesn't.
Brittany turns 15 before everyone else. She's behind. She missed a year of school when her ADD became too much and her parents couldn't tell anything was wrong until it was too late. She was little back then. It was torturous, until it got at least a bit under control and she could go back to school and concentrate long enough to finish her homework.
She doesn't mind, because that is how she met Santana.
When Brittany wakes up on the morning of her 15th birthday, Santana is there. She smiles. Santana points to a brand new bed for Lord Tubbington, her overweight cat. Brittany claps and pulls Santana in for a hug so tight both of them fall back on the bed, on top of each other. Santana whispers a happy birthday and kisses Brittany's cheek.
Brittany kisses her. Her stomach turns and turns and turns. Santana reciprocates, kissing her slowly as if to savor the moment.
Santana breaks the kiss to take her to the kitchen, where her entire family is. There is a huge banana pie on the table. Your second gift, Santana says, and Brittany is smiling from ear to ear. Banana pie is her favorite. It is the best pie to ever be invented. It is an assault to her mouth.
It is perfect.
The family eats together, talking excitedly. Brittany makes sure everyone gets a piece of the pie. It's absolutely delicious, so she hums in pleasure as she finishes her first piece. Santana wipes the corner of her mouth with her napkin. Brittany's younger sister teases her, saying Brittany was 15 but still hadn't learned how to eat.
Brittany runs after the 8-year-old girl and tickles her until she gives up and says Brittany is the awesomest of all awesome.
04. Santana
Santana is smoking a cigarette, hidden by the empty football field. Puck and Mike come to talk to her. She raises her eyebrows. No way is she having a threesome with the two of them, as she had already said. Puck has his leather jacket on and looks especially hot, for a guy.
Puck says they heard the girls were racing. Santana raises one eyebrow and takes another drag. Mike says they want in. Santana tries to deny it, but apparently Brittany herself had told them inadvertently. Mike says his uncle has some sweet rides he could borrow any time. Puck says they won't tell anyone. They want to do something.
It's autumn, and everything is yellow and boring.
Santana doesn't care about much. She finishes her cigarette and throws it on the ground. Mike crosses his arms. Santana's smile is sly and malicious. They'll do it on Friday, 8pm sharp. Show up with a car and 20 dollars or don't show up at all. She leaves the field, a sensual sway on her hips.
She knows they're staring.
Santana is eating empanadillas in the kitchen. Her grandmother's empanadillas were the best. The old woman used to have a restaurant, back in the day. Santana admires her strength in raising so many children as a widow while also owning a business. She takes one more, making an appreciative sound when she finds out it's de carne. Delicious, delicious meat.
It's the end of the afternoon and her little cousins are running around her grandmother's house.
Her grandmother comes in and Santana kisses her hand when she asks for her bendición. She asks if Santana has a boyfriend already, almost making her choke. Santana inhales and exhales. No, she is not with that Jewish boy with horrible hair anymore. She's 14, she should learn to choose her boyfriends.
She swallows dryly when her grandmother asks her about Brittany. She's fine. No, she doesn't have a boyfriend. She doesn't care about boyfriends. Her grandmother analyses Santana and it's like she knows everything. Santana's heart is racing, terrified of being caught in her lie.
Santana tells the other girls when they meet at 7:30pm. Brittany apologizes. Rachel looks afraid. Quinn looks angry. Quinn looks angry most of the time; the girl has issues. Santana dismisses Rachel's big eyes and tells them she's got this. No need to be afraid or run to daddy.
She hasn't seen her father in a month.
Brittany apologizes again. Santana links their pinkies and says she's got this. It would be fun, anyway. The boys couldn't possibly have half their experience. They've been doing it for almost a year and nothing has happened. They're sharp and competitive. If they played it right, she could get some money out of them.
Santana has her leather pants and white shirt on. She loves to look dangerous. Brittany has an incredibly old pair of jeans and Santana's old AC/DC t-shirt. Quinn has an expensive dress from Bloomingdale, as expected. Rachel has something hideous with polka dots on it. The girl never learns.
Being around Rachel was just like ignoring Rachel, sometimes.
Mike and Puck arrive at 8pm sharp. Mike's uncle has a Ford Mondeo. Not so bad for a family car. They greet and Santana takes the lead in the negotiations. It's Brittany against Mike, and then Santana against Puck. Santana knows they will underestimate Brittany, and the high five they give each other is a sign that they think they are in for an easy victory.
Fools. Brittany wins by such a large margin it's humiliating.
Brittany hugs Santana in celebration. Mike looks defeated, and Puck looks increasingly insecure. Santana thrives at the sound of the engines. She laughs when it begins, and she's so used to her father's car, to the sound it makes demanding she switches gears, that the victory comes naturally. Her father liked cars with power and speed. Santana is smiling when she turns her car a whole 180 degrees, tires screeching on the asphalt, just for the sake of showing off.
Even Quinn looks smug.
There's a thrill in conquering those boys. Santana loves to win. Racing against them makes the adrenaline in her blood pump faster, as if it were aware of her superiority over everything that could potentially go wrong. When she parks her father's car in a hidden street between two houses, she's absolutely on top of the world.
She finds out winning turns Brittany on soon enough.
Brittany straddles Santana in one swift motion as she leans the seat all the way back until they are lying down more than actually sitting. Santana's hands immediately go to Brittany's thighs. Brittany's mouth quickly meets Santana's, tongue exploring Santana's mouth, teeth pulling on her lower lip before kissing her again.
Santana pulls her closer until their bodies meet, and Brittany moans deep and long and promising. Santana scratches her back under the shirt in response. They are going too far, and Santana is too turned on for this to be good, but there's a tall, perfect blonde on top of her and she's not stopping.
When Brittany accidently bumps against the radio and AC/DC starts playing, Santana thanks the universe.