Disclaimer: Do not own Glee or its characters. Also, do not own vampires...
A/N: This fic came to me merely because there is not enough supernatural/Fantasy fan fic for Glee. Understandably so. Here's one more attempt to change that. Also, note, the vampires in this fic are based off The Vampire Diaries show series-type vampires. Too lazy to come up with my own.. If you haven't seen TVD, no worries. You don't need to.
The 28-year old looking brunette stood in front of her full length mirror. Standing in a rich red ball gown, she tilted her head curiously. She sighed, wistfully.
"Why do we have to go this gala again?" She called to her roommate in the next room.
"It's a masquerade, Rach," Her roommate responded, annoyance tinging her persuasion attempt. "Live a little."
Rachel Berry barked a laugh at her friend's attempt to convince her. At this point in life, Rachel was a star on Broadway, living with her new best friend and frequent co-star Santana Lopez.
Santana swooped into the room in a tight and low-cut turquoise number. "Any who knows who will be there? Golden Star Records is the biggest record-producing company in the world!" She smiled, reaching over to poke the small brunette in the side. "Plus, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! They might never host a masquerade again!"
Rachel rolled her eyes at the dramatic woman next to her. She sighed once more, heavily.
Santana, knowing her roommate almost as well as herself, picked up on her hidden insecurities. "You will do fine, Rach. It'll be okay. You look so beautiful, Rach. And I know, believe me. We would be very different kinds of roommates if you weren't straight." She seductively winked at her in the mirror.
"I just want to settle down, you know. Two Tony's, and no boyfriend. That's not how I planned it," Rachel confessed, sitting down on her nearby bed.
"Well, Like. I. Said." Santana emphasized each word. "You never know who will be there. Masks, remember?" At this, she held up two decorated masks which matched each woman's dress.
Rachel sighed heavily once more, "Fine."
Two hours later, the girls found themselves surrounded by covered faces. The song that played at the entrance echoed in Rachel's ears. "Painted faces on parade.." she hummed to herself.
She turned in place, realizing they were in fact on the middle of the dance floor. "Santana, we're supposed to be dancing!" She attempted to holler to her co-conspirator. The pounding techno beat drowned her voice. She glanced once more to the woman in question to find her rubbing up on a blonde with a lobster mask. Rachel quirked her eyebrow.
Sighing, a new habit of hers, she maneuvered through the throng to find a table. She plopped on the black fold-up chair, itching to take off the decorated material. The music was more subdued in the corner of the elegantly decorated ballroom.
"Hey," she heard a smooth voice from her left. Turning slowly, she saw the most captivating hazel eyes. Surrounding them was a mask of royal blue, shining black sequins like stars. She swallowed. The man's warmth seeped across the three inches between them like a fog.
"Hi," she replied nervously, looking down at her bare hands.
"Wanna dance?" He held out his long tanned fingers lightly. She could feel her heart beat pulse wildly at the thought of touching, feeling, and connecting with this mystery man.
"Ummm, no. Thanks." She turned away, back towards the pulsing crowd.
"Why not, babe? You gotta a boyfriend?"
"Nope."
"Husband?"
"No."
"Girlfriend?"
"Not my preference."
"Well, then. We're both insanely attractive and here. It's natural." He reached up to stroke her bare shoulder. She swiftly shifted away from his touch.
"I said no. I'm not likely to change my opinion merely based on the reminder of appearances which I have already concluded instantly."
He scoffed lightly. "No need to pull out the thesaurus on that one, babe. I'm just makin' an offer. If you aren't here to dance, what are you going to do? Sit and look pretty? Check and check." He reached and sipped on the golden champagne he brought with him.
"Yes, and while appreciate the flattery, it is unnecessary. I am here to support my friend. That is all, now be a good boy and leave," she stated forcibly with a sprinkling of condescension.
She heard him stand and stomp away. She held her breath, hoping he didn't take offense.
A few minutes later, she decided to go to the bathroom. Walking through the single-light hallway, someone sudden threw her against the wall. "What is wrong with you, chick? Huh? I was just tryin to be nice," his strong but confused voice spoke in the quiet darkness.
The man's champagne scented breath tickled her lips. Rachel took a deep breath, trying to still her heart. "I just didn't want to talk to you. That's it," she whispered.
"No, there's something else. You're turned on, I can feel it." Rachel gasped in shock.
Pushing him to the opposite side, she felt the veins by her eyes pump with stolen blood as her eyes turned obsidian. "How do you know what I'm feeling?" she asked, baring her fangs at the stranger. She could hear his blood racing through his scared veins.
He tore off his mask. His chiseled jaw framed a muscular and attractive face. Rachel pushed herself to keep her vamp features out, rather than marvel at the Adonis before her. He reached between their pressed bodies to slowly and gently tug off her mask.
"Wow," he said.
"What is it?" Rachel couldn't continue it. She allowed her confusion to overtake her fury.
"You are so beautiful for a monster. Are all of you like that?" he asked in awe.
She couldn't take it any more. She desperately grasped his azure button-up and pulled her mouth to his. Moving vigorously, they kissed, pulling, biting with human teeth at each other's lips. Rachel could feel his chest panting heavily, and she allowed her fangs to push through her gums. "Just one bite," she murmured before licking and piercing the attractive man's throat. Sucking his rich blood gave her a high. A high of lust and passion almost as deep as that for the man before her. His hands had surrounded her hips and back as they had kissed. They tightened the longer she drank.
"Hey, babe, gotta stop soon. Feeling woozy," he mumbled in her ear.
She gasped, pulling out. He couldn't help but lick her blood-covered lips. "So hot," he breathed, just before he fainted on the floor.
A/N: What do you think?