Title: Along the Way
Author: Bladed Darkness
Category: Glee
Summary: Quinn's trying to be a better person. There's just some slip-ups along the way. Santana/Brittany with Quinn the voyeur. Bonus if they're using a strap on and Brittana don't realize Quinn is watching. Prompt at the Glee Kink Meme. Sequel to Off the Wall, Over the Top, and Off the Edge. Fourth in the 'Over and Off' mini-series. Bit more plot-heavy than the others, but the prompt's in there somewhere.
Pairings: Brittana, Faberry friendship (with hints of more) in all its confusion, possible mentions of other pairings.
Length: 3000+
Rating: NC-17
Trying to be Rachel's friend was a bit harder than Quinn expected. And of course that involved changing how she interacted with the singer, which became more complicated when Quinn realized that entailed changing out how she engaged other people as well so as to not upset Rachel. It wasn't that Rachel was hard to tolerate, it was changing how she tolerated the brunette.
So, taking a page from Rachel's book, Quinn decided to make a list.
–
Without pausing her stride, Quinn grabbed a passing jock's slushie and tossed the beverage onto a unaware Jacob Ben Israel mid-lewd gesture. A cold glare silenced his squawk of surprise and the boy scurried off in the opposite direction.
"Hey babe," greeted Quinn, angling herself so that her hand still grasping the empty cup was placed on her hip while her other forearm leaned against the lockers, slightly over Rachel.
"Why did you do that?" Rachel asked, watching the afro bob as Jacob turned the corner.
Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't he bothering you?"
"Well yes, but - "
"Then I don't see the problem," finished Quinn, shrugging.
"He's a human being, Quinn," Rachel explained, shutting her locker with a bit more force than normal. "Admittedly, a creepy manipulative one with a weird fascination with my bras and panties - "
"What?" growled the blonde, already plotting further humiliation for the redheaded boy.
The singer frowned. "I really don't understand it, Quinn. One pair should certainly be enough to satisfy his curiosity and - "
"Why the hell does he have your underwear?" Quinn was furious, and, at the same time, morbidly curious. Rachel wasn't that desperate.
"I gave it to him last year."
Quinn was having trouble comprehending this. "Why would you do that? That's – it's stupid!"
"Beth."
"That's not a good enough reason!" roared Quinn, hurling the empty cup across the hallway. Beads of slush went flying through the air. Rachel stared at her incensed form for a moment.
"I thought it was," she whispered quietly before turning on her heel and retreating to class.
With a groan, Quinn collapsed against the lockers. "Shit." She knew Rachel had given Jacob her underwear; Finn had told her as much last year.
1. Be less of a bitch.
"Let me get this straight: you come to the biggest bitch in this school to help you not be a bitch?" Santana asked, scowling. The Latina tapped her foot impatiently as she stared at Quinn, arms crossed.
"I kinda figured you could just tell me what you do and then I could do the opposite so that - " Quinn winced as the brunette grabbed her arm and started dragging her down the hall.
"I can't help you with that shit, Q; it's practically engrained into every nerve ending of my body," growled Santana as she came to a stop. "I do, however, know the perfect person to tutor you in everything nice. And I do mean everything."
Brittany watched silently as Santana released her grip on Quinn. "What's going on?"
"Britt, teach Quinn to be nice."
"Okay." The tall blonde nodded before turning to the head cheerleader. She lifted her hand and made a loose motion, "San says it works best when you flick your tongue like so and twist your - "
"No, B. Nice, not nice."
Brittany frowned. "Why didn't you say so?"
Quinn sighed.
–
"Again."
With great effort, Quinn tried to recreate the wide-eyed, bubbly persona Brittany projected everyday.
"Don't do that," chided Brittany, reaching over and using her thumb to push at Quinn's facial features. "It makes you look like an angry kitty."
"You kinda suck at this, Q."
Quinn snarled at the brunette. "Why are you still here?"
"You're joking, right? The big bad puta puma Fabray wants to turn into a declawed little kitten and I want to know why."
Quinn stood abruptly. "You know what? This isn't working."
"Well maybe it's the wrong kind of nice for you," Brittany supplied, resting her head on Santana's thigh from her seated position.
"What do you mean?"
"Like, three parts bitch and one part nice. You could bake cupcakes!"
"I'm... not sure that'll work, Britt," Quinn shifted uncomfortably. She'd heard firsthand from Puck that vegan cupcakes were a bitch to make, although she still had trouble believing that he made cupcakes anyway. "Thanks anyways, guys." She started walking for the door of the classroom.
"Do what Finn does."
Quinn tripped. "Wha...?"
"Yeah," Brittany continued, "Just be your usual jerk self and then do one big act of niceness to make up for it. Oh and don't realize that you've been doing the things you rag on other people for doing. Well, I guess you would have to fake that."
Quinn stared at her. "What are you talking about? That makes no sense."
"But it's true!"
"No," Quinn shook her head, "just, no, Britt. That's not what happens at all."
Brittany blinked at her and Quinn shifted uncomfortably. "Okay," she agreed eventually. "Then be Puck."
"These ideas just keep getting better and better, Brittany," deadpanned Quinn.
"No, hold up," Santana interrupted. "B may have a point here. Look, here's what you're gonna do."
–
She wasn't sure how Brittany and Santana knew that everything revolved around Rachel, but as she handed the girl a grape slushie and offered her a shy smile, Quinn had a feeling that everything would turn out okay.
–
Quinn chickened out. Surely this could wait? It's not a terribly important matter.
Maybe later.
2. Break up with Sam.
Much later.
Yeah. That'll work.
2. ?. Break up with Sam.
–
Grumbling a little to herself, Quinn finished storing the uniforms in such a way that Coach Sylvester wouldn't kill them all in the morning before heading for the exit.
Slam!
Click.
Quinn froze. The sound of the door being shut forcefully and the lock sliding across to bar any entrance was a semi-familiar one, but it only served to make Quinn more wary. Most of the Cheerios chose to flee campus as soon as practice let out in fear of some attempt by Coach Sylvester to pull them into a second afternoon practice if they stuck around too long. A few of the older and slightly more fearless girls would hang around long enough to get a shower before leaving, but they should definitely have been gone by now.
Creeping to the end of the lockers, she peered cautiously around the end just in time to watch Santana pin Brittany against the door and crush her lips to the blonde's. Brittany quickly removed Santana's ponytail and fisted a handful of curls.
Even with the blood rushing into her ears, Quinn heard every sound in the nearly empty room magnified. The quiet moan the tall blonde released sounded like it had been breathed right into her ear and Quinn struggled with her reaction.
"I got us a present," Santana murmured, pulling back just enough to rest her forehead against Brittany's.
"I love presents," Brittany husked in a tone Quinn had never heard from the bubbly blonde. Santana appeared to be well-acquainted with it, though that didn't stop the Latina from pressing impossibly closer to her girlfr – wait, wasn't Brittany dating Artie?
"Want to unwrap it?" purred Santana, nudging a forgotten Cheerio bag with her foot. Brittany nodded excitedly and broke free to rummage around the contents of the bag.
"San?" Whatever Brittany had found caused the blonde to halt her movements. Santana wrapped herself around the dancer from behind.
"I know you had to get rid of our old one after your cat tried to use it as a chew toy."
"It was the nicotine cravings," Brittany argued weakly and Santana nodded.
"Right, well, I just thought I should replace it. We can keep it in my room this time, if you want." She smirked. "Want to help me break it in?"
"I don't know... doesn't that break the plumbing rule?"
"It's not real Britt, remember?" The smile slowly slipped from her face as the seconds dragged on. "B, please? Let me do this for you?"
"You care about me?"
Santana threaded her fingers with Brittany's. "Always."
Brittany took a breath, then turned her head and her lips met Santana's.
It was at this point that Quinn realized she was most likely intruding on a very private moment, but she couldn't bring herself to move forward as it ended.
Instead she was stuck watching her friends undress each other and 'Is that...? Oh God.' Now she definitely wasn't going to interrupt.
Brittany groaned. Santana was still for a moment, then began to gently rock against the taller girl, her pace and force gradually increasing.
Brittany reached up, fingers digging into the top of the door frame, scrabbling to find purchase. A particularly hard thrust from Santana had the tall blonde arching her back as one foot wound around the Latina's ankle for balance. Toned muscles flexed and relaxed as the dancer tensed and uncoiled in time to the brunette's movements.
Santana's hands fell to clench around her blonde counterpart's hips, pulling her lower torso slightly forward, and the groan that escaped Brittany's pink lips as the new angle drove the strap-on further into her had Quinn trembling.
Something was missing though. Even as Santana continued to push into the dancer, Quinn was already fantasizing about what it would be like to have Rachel underneath her, moaning, gasping, hips jerking erratically -
Quinn tilted her head an inch to the left, mentally replacing the current blonde and brunette couple with another pair. She frowned. The image still looked wrong. Grinning suddenly in realization, she flipped their position, watching the imaginary brunette moan and undulate as the equally non-existent blonde's hips drew impossibly closer. The blonde pressed a hot kiss to full lips, head tilted downwards slightly as the shorter girl leaned upwards to meet her.
The sounds of panting as the kiss was broken echoed in the locker room, mixed with sporadic grunts. A particularly hard thrust left the brunette flexing the leg that was wrapped around her lover's. Dark chocolate orbs opened and locked onto the blonde's, a breathy, "Oh San" escaping before her body tensed and jerked.
And just like that, Quinn's fantasy was broken.
'Shit,' Quinn thought, shrinking away from the scene, 'Rach is going to kill me.'
"Ahem." Instinctively Quinn looked up.
'If Santana doesn't first.'
3. Figure out your sexuality.
Addendum: Don't die.
"Well, Q? I'm waiting."
'So dead.' A blush tinted her cheeks as the Latina stood in front of her, unashamedly naked and still wearing the harness, strap-on standing proud. Behind her, Brittany sat against the door, head tipped back and one leg drawn up against her chest, exposing skin previously hidden by the tan body of Santana to hazel eyes.
"Hey hey hey, eyes over here Fabray! Don't make me hurt you."
Quinn swallowed before gathering her courage. "You're just lucky it was me and not one of Coach's little lackeys."
Santana scoffed. "If I was really lucky, you wouldn't be here at all. Perv."
"San, be nice." Brittany came up behind the brunette, hands wrapping instinctively around the toy. She pumped the shaft a few times, grinning as Santana's breathing hitched.
"Fine," Santana sulked, crossing her arms, though her hips continued to twitch forward towards Brittany's hands.
Quinn was trying not to let her eyes wander, but the motion was impossible to ignore out of the corner of her eye.
"So why were you spying on us?"
Quinn bristled. "I wasn't - "
"Rachel," answered Brittany, reaching up to tweak one of Santana's nipples and Quinn couldn't help staring this time.
The bark of laughter Santana let out was a cross between a chuckle and a moan of pleasure.
"You're shitting me," she grunted. Her eyes lit up with a sinister gleam. "You're trying to figure out how to give it to her!"
"Wait what?"
"Look I know you both have some misguided notion of romance, but just take her hard up against the wall and sort everything out afterward so the rest of us don't choke on the sexual tension."
"That's not...," Quinn trailed off. "Look, what if it's only Rachel?"
"Huh?" Santana managed, at this point mind only half on the conversation.
"Rachel. Am I only attracted to Rachel or other..." She gestured roughly at the two of them.
"Women, Q. Females. Girls. Lesbians even. We're not some mystical breed of unicorn or some shit."
"Whatever. My point is - "
"Point nothing. You're a lady lover, Q. I just thought you were going to strangle on a scarf before you ever came out."
"Saaan," Brittany whined, and Quinn notices that, sometime during their conversation, she's undone the harness, which fell to the floor as Brittany's fingers stealthily moved southward to cup the brunette.
Quinn was suddenly very aware that her friends are still naked in front of her and she's fully clothed in her uniform, which is starting to feel constricting. A part of her wanted to move her eyes away from the scene, but that part was squashed by her libido, which Rachel managed to awaken and hasn't been satisfied since Quinn started this campaign to get her shit together.
"Mmm, what Britt?" Santana asked as her head lolled to the side, allowing Brittany to press a kiss to her neck.
"Shouldn't Quinn be naked?"
"What? No, um, Britt, I need to go. I – Rachel – we're meeting – I just gotta go. Later S. Bye Brittany," Quinn managed to blurt out, darting out the now unobstructed door.
Brittany just shrugged before returning her attention to Santana.
–
Why rush into such matters?
4. Break up with Sam.
Okay. He broke up with her first.
If Santana wasn't such a bitch, she would thank her.
4. Break up with Sam.
–
The smile Rachel shot her as she seconded Rachel's idea of original songs was well worth any weird looks she got from the club the next few days.
5. Stand up for Rachel.
The look in Rachel's eyes as she stumbled away from the piano after her confession completely canceled the smile out though.
Quinn steeled herself with the thought that she always did what had to be done – and keeping Finn away from Rachel so he wouldn't drag her down was necessary.
It wasn't that she didn't trust Rachel around Finn – it was that she didn't trust Rachel to not put Finn's incessant and immature needs before Rachel's dreams.
And those had to come first. Even if it hurt Rachel right now, it was protecting her in the long run.
She'd hurt Rachel enough. Once more wasn't something new.
The guilt was, though.
–
She couldn't believe she was actually helping her sorta-possible girlfriend contemplate getting a nose job. She wanted to say the words, the ones she knew Rachel wanted to hear, but every time Quinn opened her mouth, they would catch in the back of her throat and the blonde would end up spouting something so horribly shallow that she was afraid to try to say anything else.
The composites? Beyond the first initial glance of horror, she couldn't stand to look at them. Why was she letting Rachel go through with this? It wasn't that she thought Rachel looked better with her own nose – it was actually kinda creepy. Rachel was gorgeous, so why was she having such a hard time telling her that? Quinn had actually managed to convince herself (ignoring the part that was screaming at the rest of her) that Rachel would be happier and really, keeping Rachel happy was her main priority.
Preferably happy with Quinn, since she didn't think she could take Rachel fawning for real over Finn again.
And if a nose job was going to make Rachel happy, who was Quinn as her sorta-possible girlfriend to stop her?
Even if she kept screwing up.
6. Don't try to 'fix' Rachel.
Note: She's perfect the way she is.
She couldn't go to Puck and Kurt's 'Barbra-vention'. Not with the knowledge that she had been so close to helping Rachel get the one thing she didn't need – besides Finn – going through her head.
She wasn't even sure she could face Rachel again after that.
–
"Your parents are blonde," Rachel pointed out as she sat down across from her in the library.
"So?" Quinn asked, not moving from her position slumped over the table.
"You know what. Blonde is a recessive trait. There's no way that picture is you."
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe they lighten their hair?" Quinn deadpanned, arching an eyebrow.
"Did it ever occur to you that I'm not going to fall for that?" Rachel reached forward and grasped Quinn's hand. "The rest of these Neanderthals may have forgotten you in our pre-school and elementary years, but I haven't. I haven't forgotten your cousin either. So what's going on?"
Quinn jerked back, pulling her hand away and standing up. "That is me," she insisted.
Rachel frowned. "Quinn, I don't know what brought on this moment of insecurity, but I can assure you that you're the most beautiful gi - " She cut off as Quinn mumbled something. "What?"
"Not on the inside," Quinn forced out, before shouldering her bag and walking out.
7. You don't have to change everything about yourself just to be loved.
She wasn't expecting to be dragged into the astronomy room.
"What are we doing?" Rachel asked, searching her eyes.
'Breathe Fabray. This is just your usual encounter with Rachel Berry.' "What are you talking about?"
Rachel stepped forward a couple of steps. "This. You, me, this push and pull. I don't... I don't understand any of it."
Quinn snorted. "Do you ever?"
"Did I... did I do something wrong?" Rachel pressed, voice meek.
And that, right there, was why Quinn couldn't do this. Because this wasn't Rachel, and it wasn't the Rachel she had – Quinn sucked in a breath. This was the Rachel that Finn had left in his wake, and it wasn't the one she wanted. This wasn't the Rachel she was trying – and often times failing – to be a better person for.
"You don't get it. Not at all, Rachel." She took a breath. "I don't want this. I don't want this relationship, and certainly not with you."
Rachel jerked back, then regained her composure. "Fine." Quinn watched her collect her things and stride over the door, pausing once it was open. "But don't think this is over." She hesitated for another moment, "I don't where Quinn Fabray went, but I want her back." Then she left.
Quinn stared after her. 'What did that mean?'