Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Batman/DC Comics.
A/N: As much as I wish I could have finished this little project, I just don't have the muse for it anymore. I hope you enjoy it for what it is.
Quinn watched with a soft smile as the brunette flounced over to the stereo. Rachel moved with such grace and lightness that she wasn't surprised to learn that her footsteps made no sound upon the hardwood floors. She must have been a dancer for a long time.
"Is there anything you would like to hear?" Rachel asked brightly as her eyes skimmed over to Quinn's.
The blond shook her head. "Play me some of your favorites. I would love to know what kind of tastes a straight-laced girl like you have."
Rachel frowned disapprovingly at her, more than familiar with the detective's penchant for teasing. "Well, I don't know about everybody else but I love all kinds of music."
As if on cue, 'Don't Rain on my Parade' began to fill the room in all its strong glory.
"Really?" Quinn asked skeptically, running her finger along the edge of the wine glass. She chuckled when Rachel glared at the stereo.
"I do have a soft spot for Broadway musicals," she answered tightly. "Barbra Streisand is the most amazing person ever."
"Hm, if you say so," Quinn retorted. For some reason, she really loved it when the brunette was riled up. It did things to her that really shouldn't. She tipped her glass back, relishing in the light buzz that was beginning to fog her brain.
Rachel ignored her this time and began mouthing the words along with her idol. Quinn was happy to sit back and watch as the girl moved about the room. Rachel was quite mesmerizing to gaze upon, something that Quinn was well aware of ever since she saw her perform years ago at a police benefit event. Rachel, who could have made it big as a triple threat but instead spent her days in front of a office computer and writing plays in her free time.
Quinn really wondered about her sometimes.
Every meeting of theirs left her curious and second guessing. There was no doubt she was drawn to Rachel, like a grasping moth to the only light for miles—she wanted to know everything about her, and wanted to selfishly keep all that knowledge to herself.
The song ended and Rachel curtsied extravagantly. Quinn applauded but groaned as another Barbra Streisand song came on.
"You really need to learn to appreciate good music, Fabray," the woman huffed as she headed back to the counter. She reached for her glass and downed it, feeling the blond's eyes trailed down her neck. She plastered on a saucy grin. "Like what you see?"
Quinn choked on her drink.
"As if!" she scoffed, quickly recovering. She hoped none of the wine had dripped onto her clothes. That wouldn't have earned her any suave points.
Rachel smirked knowingly as she turned around and leaned against the counter. The blond glowered at her back. Good heart or not, she was still an ass sometimes.
Rachel bobbed her head along with the music, Quinn watching as her hair fell to her front and expose the back of her neck. She frowned when she noticed a long thin wound just below her hairline. She wondered what sort of crazy stunt caused that. A beautiful girl like her should be more careful with her skin.
It wasn't until Quinn had another glass that she realized Batgirl would have a similar wound from the explosion days ago. She squinted at her empty wineglass. It was such an odd coincidence. She lifted her head to stare at the back of Rachel's bobbing head, trying to picture bat ears on top of the wavy mane. She then moved her eyes to her tapping fingers, noting the familiar rhythm it would take on when the caped crusader was trying to hide her impatience.
8 days ago, Gotham East Harbor, 9:51pm
Quinn struggled to find the air in her lungs, furrowing for that scream she knew no one would hear, fiery but wide eyes locked onto the freeze gun aimed at her.
"Oh, to be young and idealistic," Victor Freeze drawled unnecessarily. His face hardened. "It's absolutely sickening."
He pulled the trigger and a white, crystalline beam of ice-cold fury headed for her.
Just then, something flew through the air and clanged against the firing weapon, sending a stream of ice across the dock.
"You!" Mr. Freeze hissed, whipping toward the source.
"Sorry to cut you off cold turkey but I can't have you turning Gotham's finest into human popsicles." The disembodied voice came from a small woman perched on top of a stack of crates. She had on a dark costume with a pullover mask, complete with two pointy ears.
"Batgirl," Quinn breathed. Unfortunately, the bataraang came too late. Her legs were frozen from the thighs down.
A man in a black and blue costume landed beside Batgirl. "Oh, man, you again?" he exclaimed incredulously. "I could've sworn I threw you in the freezer last week!"
"Nightwing," Quinn gasped. Both of them were here.
The supervillian unleashed a formidable growl and veered into an offensive stance, instinctively firing off his freeze gun. Not surprisingly, the two leapt away.
It was like watching a game of Whack-a-Mole. Discharges flew left and right and every which way before the masked vigilantes decided enough was enough.
Nightwing swooped in front of iceman and sent a punch to his face, hoping to break the glass shielding him from the warm air of the autumn night. His follow-up hook wasn't as lucky, just grazing the material before Freeze angrily swiped at him. Nightwing grunted in pain as he fell back.
Batgirl took her cue and jumped in. A front kick to the face allow a miniscule crack to appear and she grinned in success. She sent several elbow and knee jabs before she finished with a roundhouse kick.
Freeze toppled flat on his back, hissing in frustration. The glass had yet to break; he wasn't finished yet.
Batgirl barely leapt out of the way as a jet of ice was ejected toward her, allowing Nightwing to toss a few smoke pellets over the cryogenic man.
The two regrouped in the form of a dual attack, slamming their foe from both sides. Freeze was momentarily caught off guard from the whaling of Escrima sticks but the structure of his suit provided an ample layer of cushion. He shoved Nightwing back with a roar when the stick struck his mask hard. The glass was close to shattering.
Batgirl went to swipe under his legs but Freeze, incensed, grabbed her like a rag doll and tossed her into a pile of netting. He dug into the belt of his suit and pulled out a number of round balls.
"Batgirl!" Nightwing shouted in alarm. She looked up to see the bombs flying through the air. Her eyes met Quinn's just as they rained upon the dock in a mess of explosions.
Quinn felt the dock crumble before she saw it. She struggled to break free from the ice as she fell into the murky waters, the rest of the debris following after in a cloud of chaos.
It was dark and the water enveloping her was sharp and biting. She smacked against the ice but it was solid as a rock. As far as she could tell, she was stuck in a limbo between floating and sinking, and with all the chaos, she couldn't quite tell which way was right side up.
A blur appeared before her and she covered her mouth in fright, air bubbles escaping in a frenzy of soft touches against her face. A light flicked on. She sealed her lips tight.
It was Batgirl.
She steadied the light over the ice and pulled out a laser. She began cutting through the ice in pieces, working rapidly as they spun, avoiding debris as they came. Just as Quinn thought she was going to run out of air, a mouthpiece was hastily slipped through her mouth.
An oxygen mask, she realized as a surge of air made its way into her lungs.
Batgirl cut off the ice until only a layer remained around both legs but it was enough to allow her to pull her up.
She kicked through the waters quickly but efficiently and they surfaced. Quinn looked for Mr. Freeze but he was down on the ground where Nightwing stood impatiently.
"What took you so long?" he asked with a playful lilt to his voice. Batgirl merely narrowed her eyes as she tugged Quinn through the floating planks of wood carefully.
"You're bleeding," Quinn mumbled absentmindedly as she pulled her hand from Batgirl's neck. The blood was bright red against the pallor of her shivering skin.
"I'll be fine."
In the distance, sirens began to fill the night air. Quinn felt so tired. All she wanted to do was close her eyes.
"Hey, hot shot. Don't fall asleep—the ambulance is on their way."
Quinn nodded, rubbing her head against the make-shift pillow. It was so cold though. One second wouldn't hurt…
She blinked her eyes opened groggily.
A white ceiling.
She sighed, more than familiar with the interior of hospital rooms.
She turned achingly onto her side, briefly taking inventory of the individuals who bothered to send her flowers. Lazily, her eyes drifted to the bedside table, where a bland souvenir was left in plain sight.
A bat insignia on a white notecard.
Rachel turned around and beamed at her. Quinn stared blankly back.
Rachel couldn't be Batgirl, could she?
"Is everything alright?" Rachel asked, eyebrows slightly furrowed.
"I—I don't know," Quinn muttered, letting her forehead fall into her palms. This was all too crazy to consider. Even the height and build fits! She groaned, rubbing her face. She needed another drink. She turned to grab the wine bottle, accidentally knocking Rachel's wineglass over. She watched horrified as the liquid spilled over the kitchen tiles in a bloom of maroon.
"Oh, damn it!" cussed Quinn, hurrying off her stool. "I didn't mean to—"
"It's okay! I'll get it," Rachel soothed, quickly snatching a towel off the rack. As she bent over to clean the mess, Quinn watched her in deep thought.
As soon as Rachel tossed the rag into the nearby trashcan, Quinn wrapped her arms around her from behind, pinning the girl's arms to her side.
Rachel stiffened, resisting hard at the urge to shove the detective off. "What are you doing, Quinn?"
"Nothing," she murmured, smothering her face into the brown waves. The only other identifying information she knew about the vigilante was the smell of her hair. For some reason, it didn't occur to Quinn that she could have used a better tactic than directly sticking her nostrils in the other woman's personal space. "I wanted to know what kind of shampoo you used… It smells nice and flowery… and it's—it's the same…"
"How many glasses did you have?" Rachel inquired shakily. She squirmed when she felt Quinn's nose rub her scalp.
"Mmh."
"Quinn?" she asked again, feeling a bit too warm. The detective's body felt good against her own, something of which Rachel was trying very hard not to think about.
The blond released her grip slightly and turned Rachel around to face her. She looked firmly into her brown eyes, trying to read her innermost thoughts. Rachel's eyes were wide and opened with confusion but there was also a hint of lust and that was all Quinn needed to proceed. She slowly closed the distance between their lips, making sure to stop just a breath away. She blew a soft breath out, hearing the hitch in the other woman's throat. They were so close.
"Quinn? What are you doing?" Rachel whimpered, not moving at all. She gazed into hazel eyes, trying to determine the source of hesitance. Her hands gripped the counter tightly. Quinn noticed the action and smirked. She moved in closer, barely touching her lips to hers.
"Aren't you going to kiss me, Batgirl?"