::Muffins and Zombies::
K.L.
Warning: Course language and muffins
The first time had been an honest accident.
Rachel had been looking everywhere for her Limited Edition: Essential Barbra Streisand album. Normally it was nestled between Emotion and Funny Girl on the third shelf of her bookcase (organisation was a must) however for some strange reason Streisand was missing and Rachel would be damned if she didn't find it.
Several hours later and one thoroughly swept Berry Manor, Rachel found herself marching out the front door, jumping into her silver Mini Coop' that sadly had not been named yet and making the voyage (only slightly above the designated speed limit with the occasional blind eye to the lights colour, because really red means optional, or at least in the state of a Barbra-mergency) toward the only other possible location in all of Ohio her precious album could be: Maison du Fabray.
When she had arrived Rachel found the front door unlocked – a nasty habit she had not yet ironed out of the blonde. Quinn had always reasoned that this was, and Rachel quote, 'Lima freaking Ohio. Everyone is practically related by six degrees of separation, goes to the same church and pees on the same lawn!' Of course she had always mentioned that the only person stupid (or smart depending on how you viewed the subject) to make use of the unlocked door was Santana and that was only because Santana had a fond love for Mrs. Fabray's baked muffins. And while Rachel did agree that Judy had a way of making baked goods taste heaven sent, the fact still remained: there were crazies out there and Rachel would be damned if she let her girlfriend fall victim to some gruesome, untimely death, at the hands of some flesh eating… thing! (She really needed to lay off the horror movies).
Tangent aside, Rachel armed herself with the baseball bat strategically hidden in the coat closet (courtesy of herself of course) and crept through the house softly calling out her girlfriend's name, "Quinn?"
A strange sound nearly sent the bat wielding brunette through the roof, "Q-q-quinn?" The lump that had formed in her throat made it difficult to swallow, "This isn't funny." Again the sound echoed through the seemingly empty house, "Quinn?"
Rounding the corner rewarded Rachel with the source of her current fear. There as if surrounded by a halo of light sat Quinn's game console – the television prompting a flashing box. Curiosity getting the better of her, Rachel took a seat. She had always watched Quinn play these strange, not to mention horribly gruesome and mean, games. It had never once interested her, not in the two years she had been dating Quinn, not in the eight months she had spent with Finn and certainly not in the three days she had been with Puck. And so Rachel set about to put away the game, picking up the controller and strolling over to the television set.
And that's when it happened. Accidently the brunette bumped the controller while tidying the mess, the screen roaring to life. Dazed, and rather frightened, Rachel leapt sky high watching the television in fascination and horror. From the speakers blared the words she had heard so many times before yet this time the character stood motionless. Minutes passed, the lifeless player drawing Rachel in. It wasn't until a strange tongue shot across the screen capturing her character in its hold, dragging the poor helpless girl to her doom, that Rachel thought to act.
Grasping the controller tightly, the brunette wildly punched at the buttons, "Let go of her you… you… you creep!" More furious punching but to no avail as words Rachel thought she'd never see prompted across the screen 'You are dead'.
"Dead?" Tears trickled from chocolate orbs, "Dead? But… but…" Upon the screen drew another prompt, 'Continue?' All thoughts of Barbra and Quinn vanished and all Rachel could think of was to avenge the death of poor… whatever her name was.
It was the beginning of the end.
The times that followed were strategic, planned days, even weeks in advanced. Time was scarce and there had been several occasions where she had been this close to being caught. But Rachel Berry possessed the skills of a ninja – darting in and out with not so much as turning a head.
Or at least until today anyways.
"Rebecca? Rebecca Chambers? Are you freaking kidding me Puckerman? She may be a kid genius but the girl has nothing going for her. Claire on the other hand-" A heavy bass followed by a feminine voice broke Quinn's train of thought. I can do it like a brother - do it like a dude. Grab my crotch wear my hat low like you. Digging into the pocket of her hoodie the blonde procured her cell phone, accepting the call without so much as a glance at the caller id, "Rebecca or Claire?"
"The fuck kind o' question is that? Hands fucking down Claire! Bec's is a fuc-"
The blonde drew the phone momentarily away from her ear, pointing toward the mohawk boy seated across from her with a smirk, "See even S agrees and we never agree about shit. We're right. You're wrong." Before returning to the call, "Sup S? How's Barbados?"
"Boring as shit. Mama ate some weird shit an' got sick. It's why I'm calling."
Hazel eyes went from triumphant to terrified. San's mom was like a second mom to the blonde, "She okay? What happened? Are you at the hospital? Do you want me to fly out? Plane. Plane. Fuck I need a plane! Call the airport Noah!" Her mind was reeling, travelling faster than the bullet train of Japan with her mouth working at an even faster pace.
"Calm the fuck down Q, Mama's okay. God she just had a tummy ache and here you are havin' an aneurism! What I called for was to ask why the fuck your door is locked when the Berry mobile is parked three doors down in the bloody bushes. I know you guys do some kinky shit or whatever but I need m' muffins so open the fuck up."
"Muffins?" Puck, half standing half seated, watched as the gears began to turn (metaphorically of course). He'd almost had a damn near heart attack when Q had started spouting off orders; he loved Mama (platonically like a son of course). "Locked? Wait where are you?" In the back ground Quinn could make out the faint sounds of birds and automobiles while what she should be hearing was waves crashing and people partying.
"On your stoop where the fuck else would I be?"
"I don't know, in Barbados on vacation with your family?" Quinn had never felt more confused in her life.
"Open your ears Fabray I just told you Mama got a tummy ache, where have you been during this convo?"
Brow creasing, the blonde felt her temper rising, "The fuck San I've been right here listening to you! How does Mama getting a God damn tummy ache translate to you being on my fuckin' stoop!" The boy – excluded from this conversation – was trying his best to placate the blonde's rising temper. She was after all grabbing the attention of the other patrons in the food court.
A long sigh rang through the receiver, "Serious Q? We came home."
"What? When?"
"After Mama's tummy started hurtin'. Papa started freaking out and next thing I know I'm on a plane. Now I'm standing on your stoop craving muffins so open the fuck up."
Brushing aside Puck's concern Quinn felt her brow furrow even more, "But I'm not at home. And the back door is unlocked like always."
"Uh, no it's not Q."
"Uh, yes it is S."
"Uh no it's not. I'm standing the fuck here. You hear that?" The sound of something being shaken was all Quinn could hear, "That's me tryin' to open your back door. It's not opening aka it's locked. Now are you going to come home? Because I swear if you're not here in five I'm goin' through the window and I don't care if I have to send a brick through it first. Comprendo?"
"Jesus not the windows S! We're leaving, right now, hear that? That's use leaving. Just for all that's fucking good and right in the world don't touch the windows!" And with that the line went dead.
With record speed a ratty old truck came flying down Maple Street screeching to a halt just outside of Castle Fabray (as Puck had always called it). Not more than a second later the passenger side door flung open, a frazzled looking blonde tumbling out.
"You're late." There on the front porch swing sat one Santana Lopez in all her nail filing glory.
Tears streamed down pale cheeks as Quinn flung herself before the Latina, "Oh God please! I'm so sorry, just tell me-" The blonde was choking back sobs, "A-a-re they okay?" When the dark haired woman motioned with a one shouldered shrug in the direction of the back of the house, Quinn took off running.
The sight to behold her was enough to cause her to scream out in joy, the tears flowing even heavier than before. They were safe. Her mother's windows were safe!
Now that she knew the windows were safe Quinn put on her bitch face, stomping back to the front of the house, "The fuck S! What the hell is your problem!" As per usual Puck was stuck with the dangerous job of middleman, keeping the blonde Cheerio from violently clawing out the eyes of her best friend. They seriously had one fucked up friendship, at least him and Finn didn't try to kill each other every other minute.
Santana was on her feet quicker than one could say Sue Sylvester Shuffle looking as feisty as ever. Puck seriously needed new friends. Or just friends that wouldn't be the death of him. "You're my problem Fabray! If you didn't lock your fuckin' door none of this would have been a problem. But nooo you just had to go and listen to that midget of yours about safety this safety that!"
For the first time since Quinn had received the phone call Puck spoke, "Enough! S I was there when Q left, the backdoor was un-fucking-locked. And Q let's just go inside okay? You're creepy old man neighbour who I'm pretty sure defiles little boys is watching us and it creeps me the fuck out."
Sparks of electricity seemed to shoot from one girl to the other, neither wanting to back down from their silent stare war.
Impatiently Puck drug Quinn up the steps, grabbing Santana on the way to the door, "Like now? I'm getting the serious hibbie jeebies knowing his eyes are on me."
"Fine!" Simultaneously the stares were broken, Quinn fishing into her pocket for the key she didn't know why she even bothered to carry.
The moment the door was open Puck was the first in, bolting for the nearest curtains to pull them shut. Santana gave Quinn one final glare before stomping off into the kitchen to get her muffins.
All was calm. Or at least for a moment as two high screams echoed through the walls of the house shattering what little silence there was.
Exchanging a quick glance, Puck and Quinn bolted for the kitchen, nearly tumbling into the island in their haste.
"What?" They cried simultaneously before feeling their jaws slacken and clatter to the floor.
It was Santana who broke the silence, "The fuck are you doing in my kitchen with my muffins Berry!"
Chocolate orbs narrowed, Rachel took a bite of the muffin currently situated in her hand as if to prove a point, "Your muffins? Pfft Mrs. Fabray baked them for me, vegan friendly. They're my muffins." And with that the two entered a heated battle of wills, daring the other to blink first.
Miraculously Quinn collected her lost jaw, voicing the questions she surely knew to be running through her baby daddy's head, "Rachel… what are you wearing? Is that… face paint?" There was a sharp intake, "Is that my controller and headset!"
Crickets chirped.
"W-w-what are you talking about!" Muffin abandoned Rachel floundered to hid the objects in question behind her. However if her get-up hadn't sold her out than the familiar music filtering in from the living room surely dug and buried her. "It's not what you think!" Cried the brunette frantically as both Quinn and Puck entered the living room. There, prompted on pause was Quinn's L4D 2.
Hazel eyes scurried back and forth between her girlfriend and her favourite game, "Rach… I…" The words seemed suffocating, "What is this?" And the brunette had the audacity to look ashamed! Stumbling forward Quinn found refuge in the couch, holding her up when her leg would not do so. Rachel was cheating on her. Hazel eyes widened further. Rachel was cheating on her with Rochelle, of all people! To say it stung was an understatement.
"Quinn I-" Seeing the tears Rachel rushed to her girlfriend, controller and headset forgotten as they tumbled out of Rachel's grasp and to the ground with a sickening crack, "Oh God Quinn I'm so sorry!"
"Go," Croaked the blonde, unable to stop the tears. When her friends didn't move the blonde screamed, "Get out of my house!" And with that Santana and Puck scurried away faster than Rachel thought possible. "How could you do this to me?" The accusation left Quinn's pale lips sounding so raw, so broken, "How could you…"
"I didn't think it would bother you that much to be honest," The brunette was bashful.
"Didn't think? What the fuck Rachel!" In an instant Quinn was out of her girlfriend's warm embrace, pacing a path through the carpet, "My greatest fear is having you leave me and not only that with Rochelle, Rochelle of all the fucking people!"
Brows furrowed it was now Rachel turn to wear the look of confusion, "But Quinn I di-"
Fiery hazel eyes snapped toward her and in an instant Quinn was before her. Another inch and surely their lips would meet. "Why couldn't it have been Claire? Hell I'd even take Rebecca but Rochelle?" The voice dropped to that of a whisper, "It's my worst nightmare coming true, I-I've lost you." And with that the blonde sunk to her knees curling in onto herself.
"Oh Quinn," Realisation dawning on the young diva's features, "I'm not leaving you," Drawing the broken blonde into her Rachel whispered softly, "I'd never leave you for Rochelle sweetie, I kind of have this thing for a tall blonde cheerio I know."
Hesitantly, the blonde lifted her head meeting her girlfriend's gaze, not bothering to hide the sniffles, "Do you mean it Rach?"
"Every word," Leaning down Rachel brushed her nose tenderly against Quinn's – she had always had a strange love for Eskimo kisses. "She's my Claire and I'm her Albert."
Once again Quinn found her jaw slacking, "How did you-"
Soft laughter cleared the once heavy air, "You're not that secretive love." Chocolate orbs gleamed, "Also browsing your bookmarks helped."
Quinn wasn't sure whether she should be embarrassed or impressed. Rachel, her zombie loathing girlfriend, was currently in her lap rambling on about her favourite (and highly secretive) zombie related fandom couple. Not only that but she had also just caught her girlfriend playing (or well the evidence to suggest she was playing) her favourite zombie related game! As Rachel continued to go on about the merits of a relationship between Albert and Claire Quinn felt herself falling more and more in love.
"Rach?" The girl in question stopped, shooting her girlfriend a questioning glance, "Will you marry me?"
Needless to say the next hour involved Rachel lecturing Quinn on the proper (and improper) ways to propose to your girlfriend while said blonde simply stared with love and adoration nodding to absolutely everything her future bride said. Because who was she kidding Rachel talking zombies? Hot. As. Hell.
And Rochelle?
Well let's just say neither Quinn nor Rachel could ever look at the character the same way again.
A/N: First I'd like to say thank you to all the positive words on Preposterously Violent Obsessions , it warms my heart. Secondly, I would like to apologize, I've had this in the makings... pretty much since I finished writing PVO but finals and my health had other plans. But here it is! I hope you'll all continue to love zombies and Faberry as much as I do! Let us sail this crack!ship together. Forever.
Song: Do It Like a Dude by Jessie J