Disclaimer: Anything familiar to you, I do not own. This is entirely a work of fan fiction for personal amusement and fulfillment. I make nothing from this and own none of it.

Part One

Chapter One: Lenaia

Now? She wants to talk about this now? Chloe couldn't help but look away from Rachel's face toward the crowd. If she focused hard enough not even the lights pointed at the stage could wash them out. Even this quick glance made the seats, which seemed small in number half an hour ago, look like hundreds. At first, Chloe didn't realize what Rachel was doing, but now that it was clear she felt her face heat up. Voices were almost audible in the crowd. This was so wrong and so right, so very Rachel. When the actress dropped to one knee in her torn tights, Chloe shivered, and she was not able to completely blame the outfit she wore on stage.

"Spirit, take my hands, most faithful friend," Looking down past what she could only think of as a beak atop her own head, Chloe watched Rachel come back into herself fully. Gone was the transformation into character, gone was the face of the 'actor' presented to Keaton or the rest of the school, to the rest of the world. This was the Rachel Amber who told off skeevy men for girls she barely knew, who had therapy sessions in a truck in the junkyard, who lost her cool when she saw her father cheating. Here, her face was uncomfortably soft. Chloe felt their fingers lace together and shivered again. I could get used to that. "For but a little longer I beseech: continue in thy service to my schemes." Chloe knew she should respond, but her throat was dry and did not seem to want to open. Her tongue set heavy in her mouth.

"And when they are complete I swear to thee, we shall fly beyond this aisle, the corners of the world our mere prologue. I'll seek to make thy happiness so great that e'en the name of liberty is forgot." There was more noise in the crowd, more muttering, more whispering, more talking. People were watching them, most of them probably smart enough to know this had little to do with a play. This was being outed in more ways than one, but so publicly that Chloe could not imagine looking at the crowd again. "What sayest thou to my most hopeful wish?" Chloe missed a beat, swallowing, trying to get her mouth and throat to function.

"Say yes!" cried a woman from the crowd. Then, after a moment, another voice, a younger one echoed the sentiment more loudly, more passionately. She knew she was flushed and under any other circumstance would hate that, but at least the stage lights would wash it out for most of the crowd. Chloe blinked and then the second that felt like a year passed and her body was working again. She exhaled-she had to exhale or her lungs would burst-before answering, aware that there was never going to be any other response, not to that question and not from Rachel Amber.

"Yes," she replied, squeezing the hand holding hers. Rachel rose like a marionette come to life and released her.

"I am most pleased," Rachel told her, standing, hazel eyes alive in a way Chloe wasn't sure she had ever seen before. "Your duty, done for now. Go forth hence with haste! I've work to do." And explaining to do, Chloe thought, feeling dazed as she nodded and rushed off stage right. Though she knew she should not, it was hard not to turn and shoot one more glance at Rachel as she exited, taking in her face in profile from beneath the beak on her own head. The other girl's features were already firming, molded once again into the role of Prospera. Chloe turned away and with a jolt of both shock and relief saw Juliet waiting by Keaton in the back-up costume the man had advised Chloe would set to large on her shoulders.

"You nailed it," Juliet said by way of greeting and Chloe was too stunned by what all had happened to be set on edge by the girl's embrace, and besides something in her tone told Chloe that she, too, was well aware about what had just happened. Later she would laugh at the comical sound of their head-beaks momentarily clicking together, which registered from the microphone still attached to her outfit that someone had apparently not yet deactivated. For the moment, though, when Juliet released her and stepped away, presumably to memorize lines for any later scenes she might have, Chloe simply stood off to the edge of the stage in a daze.

"A born thespian, my dear. I will have you on my casts, next year. The ending- transformative!" Chloe blinked and then thanked Mr. Keaton. He turned to the stage with his hands clasped, genuine glee on his lined face. He's eating this up. I'm half surprised he didn't try to hug me. A chair behind the set beckoned to her. With Juliet's surprise appearance, she had no more lines to rush to memorize. I can't believe I didn't fuck it up… but what Rachel did, what was that? Was that real? What did I just promise her? Chloe jumped when Juliet returned with a cup of water and shoved it firmly into her hand.

"Thank you," Juliet said. "You saved us." Chloe shook her head, slowly coming back to her senses.

"It was really nothing," she told the woman. From that same folding chair she listened to the majority of the rest of the play. On occasion she would rise and stand beside Keaton or Rachel herself to watch. Though Chloe was unable to find any words for Rachel and Rachel herself seemed to be low on them, when they were both off stage they kept close to one another and that was convincing enough that Chloe was sure the promise Rachel had extracted from her was real. Sideways glances shot to the other girl showed her mostly in her 'actress' or 'character' modes. It seemed almost appropriate that Rachel wasn't looking to talk about anything not related to the play, and that episode on stage was the aberration.

Eventually, though, all trying things must come to an end. Chloe watched as one by one the various actors and actresses funneled from the back to center stage to make their bows. She waited for a sense of relief to wash over her, but instead she continued to almost thrum with nerves, with energy. She felt shaky and cool, though it was not that cold of an evening. When it seemed time for the curtain call finally, Chloe stood, clapping with the crowd outside when, quite suddenly. near the center of the forming line of actors, Rachel turned and gestured for her. Chloe shook her head and that seemed to be all that Rachel needed to take matters into her own hands.

Chloe watched her approach and allowed herself to be lead on stage. It was hard to lift her head to the crowd, to the pairs of eyes who Rachel had just minutes ago made witness to something kind of embarrassing. The uptick in cheers was absurd, strange. Didn't these people know who she was? She was Chloe Price, the loser, ditching drop out who probably wasn't supposed to even be on school grounds. If only all of them knew what I was doing right before the play, in the dorms, collecting money for a drug dealer.

After a second of hesitation and a soft nudge from Rachel, Chloe made a quick bow and as she rose up she looked out into the crowd and could feel her eyes widen with shock. The rest of the performers on stage began to rearrange themselves, she felt Rachel take her hand. None of it registered except in the mechanical, because as Chloe rose out of the first 'group' bow, she sought out the same spot in the crowd she had been looking at before that. There, standing toward the front of the crowd, beside a man in a dark suit, was a face that Chloe could never forget, no matter how changed it seemed by the time of its owner's short absence.

As Rachel's movements lead her into another bow, Chloe broke eye contact with Max Caulfield. Her breath was ragged as she looked up again. The girl stood out from the crowd only by the highlighting that was Chloe's focus, her hair shorter than when she left Arcadia Bay, one thin braid down the left side hanging close to her face. The photographer, sure Chloe had seen her, reached back and raised her grey sweatshirt's hood, shadowing her face in a way that neither the eyeshadow nor the winged eyeliner had already done, before turning to walk away.

Chloe was pulled down for one more bow and then watched Max disappear into a crowd of people that might not have existed for all she could care or notice. Chloe turned to Rachel once Max was lost among people standing and moving from their seats. Rachel smiled and waved out toward the crowd and Chloe wanted to speak, to tell her that this was without a doubt the strangest day of her life. Instead, the curtain fell, as it were, and lights began to dim or redirect themselves from the stage to the crowd.

"Well?" Rachel asked, turning toward her. Rachel's microphone was not active, so Chloe could be reasonably sure her own was not either.

"I think 'holy shit' about covers it." For a moment Rachel was grinning at her, but perhaps seeing it was not all about some thrill of acting, her face calmed and she nodded.

"I say let's get the hell out of these outfits," Rachel replied after a moment. Before she turned to lead the way she added, "Unless you're into this sort of thing, I guess?" The girl gestured to Chloe's costume. While this was enough to pull her from her stunned reverie it seemed to do little to quiet the jittery feelings. Chloe shook her head, trying to smile. "Then dressing room. Before I decide to burn these clothes." Chloe thought about a half hearted joke. She also thought about her cellphone, about texting Max and asking, 'Have I lost my fucking mind or are you here?'

Instead, Chloe followed behind Rachel, listening to the rest of the cast exchanging words with each other, still unable to feel like she was really part of it. In fact, the whole night felt like it belonged to someone else, like it would be a Rachel Amber story whispered and muttered in the halls of Blackwell Academy as she passed by. That strange disconnect lasted until well after they were in street clothes and out of makeup, rushing into the night, away from the school instead of returning to the stage. Slowly, Chloe felt like she eased back in her body, settling into flesh and bone that was familiar and warm. The night was not so cool anymore, though her limbs still felt jittery, like they were humming, vibrating despite doing their job and keeping her standing.

Nearing an hour later, they were walking vaguely in the direction of what she assumed to be Rachel's house. Chloe had not bothered to ask; she did not care. Rachel had woken up from a daze of her own, too. Now she moved through the dark streets with joy, almost playing like a child as she hurried from the center of the road to the sidewalk in reaction to an oncoming car, or leaped from the curb back into the road. It was infectious, too. Though there were still plenty of distracting thoughts banging around in her head, Chloe could breathe more easily and she felt no lack of energy at the idea of keeping up with Rachel.

"So," Rachel started and Chloe slowed slightly. "What happened to you there at the end? Did you get some kind of late stage fright?" Chloe shot her a look, realizing that her behavior during the 'taking a bow' portion of the night must have been noticeable. "What was it then?" The question was breathy, Rachel still moving rather quickly as they traversed the streets of one of Arcadia Bay's upper class neighborhoods. Chloe followed as best as she could.

"Well," Chloe said, "You know how I mentioned my friend? The one who moved away and stopped responding to my messages?" The question sounded too casual, but it was not out of pretense. She simply did not know how to bring up such subjects.

"Yep," Rachel replied, without a care in the world. She has this way of making me think I'm overthinking everything. What if she's underthinking it all?

"She was in, like, the second row." Chloe hurried to keep up with Rachel, who had momentarily begun to run. "Watching. She's here, in town." Rachel slowed now and Chloe stumbled trying not to run into her. With just a bit of The Actress still in her eyes, Rachel turned her head to look back at Chloe more directly, before beginning to walk backward.

"And, are you alright?" Chloe felt a bit warmer as she contemplated the question and then answered, a small smirk sliding into place.

"Well, yeah," Chloe said, tilting her head and knocking the edge of her fringe from her own eyes. "Tonight was, amazing. Seeing her was just really weird," then, Chloe began to laugh. It seemed likely to be brief at first, but then it took hold and she had to slow and finally stop walking entirely. Rachel waited, rolling her eyes, for Chloe to get her breath back. "As if the rest of it was totally normal," Chloe clarified.

"You've got the adrenaline running still," Rachel replied, nodding a couple of times. "I do too. Everything's funny, everything's fun. I always get like this after a performance." She threw her arms wide and spun, almost dancing into the street. Was this a side of her that she ever showed anyone else? If not, Chloe felt good about it. It's like she's a little high, Chloe thought, before admitting that she had just laughed at absolutely nothing. Okay, it's like we're both a little high. A smile broke across her own face despite the conflicting thoughts. "I love this. I love nights after a show."

"I could learn to love this, if it means seeing you like this." Rachel moved close, taking first one and then another of Chloe's hands. She released them a moment later and then sighed, dramatically raising her own arms upward, then letting them drop.

"Are you proud of yourself, Chloe Price?" Rachel asked. That was a funny question, but then a lot of things felt a bit strange about the night. Chloe considered how to answer and decided to go for honesty.

"It's, I feel great. I wouldn't have thought this morning that I was going to be in this good of a mood." Even with the weird shit, I… I loved it. Rachel suddenly slowed and her face began to transform. It was really strange to watch, it wasn't like the other changes: from Rachel to Actor Rachel, to Prospera. Instead she was contemplative, disconcerted and finally bore a look of surrender. It was so shocking a transformation that Chloe opened her mouth to ask what was wrong and before she could, Rachel shook her head.

"Chloe," Rachel said, "You don't want to leave, do you? Not yet." Chloe tilted her head. "You know, like we were talking about yesterday? Like we talked about on stage. Just getting up, leaving in the middle of the night." Chloe blinked, slowly. Is that what she's thinking about, now of all times?

"Well, yeah, but I thought like, you know, eventually?" The questioning tone in her voice made her feel pathetic. Rachel shook her head. "What? You want to leave now?"

"Right now," Rachel responded, throwing her arms up, suddenly looking more like herself. "Right the hell now. You and me, we go back to my place, sneak some clothes out and then we get the hell out of Arcadia Bay. I have a little money. We can get that old truck of yours running and just leave." Chloe blinked, unsettled by the tone of Rachel's voice. It was friendly enough but it did not quite match her words, or her face. "Or do you want to stay now?" Chloe shook her head and then, after a minute, she nodded. "Because of that friend?"

How does she know me so well already? Chloe wondered yet again, her earlier glee slightly quelled. Rachel turned (though she did not quite turning her back on Chloe,) and began to walk from one side of the street to the other. She was disappointed, that much Chloe didn't need to be told. It showed in the way she walked, back and forth, in the slope of her shoulders or the shaking of her head. After a couple seconds these worked themselves out, though and Rachel turned back.

"Look," Chloe said, "Mom's clearly chosen David over me. That's not keeping me here. I don't give a fuck about going back to Blackwell Academy next year, I don't care about any of that. But - and I guess you've noticed this," Chloe chuckled to herself, a bit derisively. "Max was pretty big in my life and when she left it kind of got into my head. If she's in Arcadia Bay, I want to know what the fuck for." Rachel nodded and this time she put on the look of a war-hardened five-star general.

"Alright, then, recruit. We will not seek evac until the mission is complete. We'll find this Max and find out what her problem is. Then we'll make for the extraction zone, get the truck running and blow this popsicle stand." She furrowed her brow and lifted her chin, "Is that understood?"

"Rachel?" the girl's face went back to normal and she shifted her shoulders beneath the plaid shirt. "When you talk like that, I imagine you with David's mustache," Chloe deadpanned. "I never want to imagine that again."

"Yes sir," Rachel replied, saluting before turning back. "But, whatever the case? That's a battle to fight tomorrow." Chloe rolled her eyes at the girl's back, but allowed herself to smile at it, too. "Tonight, I want to pack some of my clothes up and take them to the truck."

"What, for me or for you?" Chloe teased.

"Well," Rachel turned back around, looking Chloe over once or twice with eyes that were nearly uncomfortable in their appraising. Chloe would have turned the red of an apple if it weren't for the fact that something moved slowly on the edge of Chloe's vision and she glanced to follow it. "You do look hella good in my clothes." Rachel must have seen her line of sight, because she tilted her head up slightly and looked. Soft, pale flakes poured down on them. Oh shit, Chloe thought as she got over the momentary amazement. "They're beautiful," Rachel continued, a little awed. Does she get it? Chloe couldn't help but wonder as a bit of ash landed in the thespian's hair. She has to. Yet she doesn't react.

"Well," Chloe finally said as she brushed the ash from Rachel's hair and tried desperately not to look into her eyes, "if we're going on a secret mission behind enemy lines, we should probably get a move on." Rachel leaned in, bridging the small space between them and Chloe reached out, sure the girl was going to grab her hand and drag her along the road. Instead, Chloe was backed up two steps against the light pole behind her as Rachel drew closer than expected. For a second, all that was Rachel Amber, at least all that was her face, was close and in detail as it had never been.

It was easy, Chloe reflected in that moment, to say something was beautiful from afar, that someone was beautiful. Up close, though, Rachel was far more than beautiful. The two existing in this proximity to one another made Chloe's breath catch in her chest, made her heartbeat rise and cheeks heat, it made her jittery limbs slow and weaken and all thought of her mother, David, Max or Blackwell Academy vanish. The warmth of Rachel's kiss did not catch her off guard; Chloe had been given enough warning to see it coming. It was still, somehow, surprising in its intensity and in how quickly she returned it. In the end, when the two broke apart a moment later, Chloe was lead along the road a lot more easily than ever before.

"So, what kind of place does Rachel plus Chloe equal?" Rachel asked, as they turned down a road. Chloe hurried to draw even with her but made no move to release her hand, in fact holding it slightly tighter. Though it was belated, Chloe thought her mood had stabilized again from the earlier unpleasantness, the irrational fear that Rachel was disappointed in her for not agreeing to abandon Arcadia Bay that night.

"I don't know," Chloe told her, "but you did say something about New York City." Rachel's grin widened, becoming more natural, more Rachel. For the first time, Chloe felt a fire which would become a familiar friend burst into life in her chest with as much ferocity as the forest fire that caused the ash falling upon them. She did not break her eyes from Rachel's face even when Rachel turned away to watch where they were walking. I don't think I can look away.

"That sounds like fun," Rachel said. "Pizza, broadway, crowded streets, parties, a city that never sleeps. Fuck sleep." The girl glanced sideways and caught Chloe staring. Instead of looking away, Chloe just smiled sheepishly. "What?"

"Nothing," Chloe lied, "I could just think of way worse ways to live than that."

"That's the spirit," the girl responded, releasing Chloe's hand to crack her knuckles in an imitation which Chloe found accurate if not flattering. "Now, my badass thespian in the making, we've got a bag full of clothes to extract and get back to the forward operating base."

"Enough military talk though," Chloe said, as seriously as she could through a smile that almost hurt her face. "I'm trying to forget about-" she paused, considering for a moment and then clarifying, "I'm trying to forget about my stepdouche." Rachel pulled an impressed face and nodded once.

"Ten-Four, Captain Price." Chloe allowed one backwards look at their tracks through the ash and then turned back forward. This is so, so weird.

"Calm down there, Soap."

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