Title: Twilight Zone (2/2)
Rating: M (for many f-bombs)
Length: 1000+
Spoilers: Audition!
Summary: McKinley High is... recovering. Kind of...
Pairing: Faberry
Warning: More OOC! And Santana still swears like a sailor.
Again, crossposted at the lj.
A/N: I finished this in a single part, but I feel like the story kind of split itself into two parts as I was writing it, pacing-wise, so that's why it's split into two parts as opposed to being just a one-shot. I just kind of wanted to write a long one shot, because that's really all I have time for nowadays... the first part, for example, took a couple weeks of ten minute commutes to finish (on the subway and the bus! On my iPod!). I wrote part two in one day...
The next several days had the odd duo slowly getting back into character (the number of people being blinded by Quinn's grin was decreasing slowly but steadily, and students working with Rachel started to slack off again), but the school was a little more than shocked that now they could be seen together quite often. Something had shifted that day, and they were afraid to learn the consequences. So afraid that Rachel had no need for those extra clothes she brought 'in case of slushy'.
Finn, within those several days, finally noticed that Rachel was acting differently, and decided to confront her about it. Santana happened to be walking by, so she had front row seats to the lover's spat-that-wasn't.
"...You're acting different now." Finn looked down at the diminutive brunette, and crossed his arms confrontationally. Santana stopped and leaned against the row of lockers across the hall from them. She wanted to know what the hell was going on.
"Differently, Finn, don't forget your suffixes." Finn looked at Rachel, confused, but she ignored him, and after a slight pause to think, she continued. "I guess I am, kinda. Is it a bad different?" She looked up at him and cocked her head.
"Well, no... It's just, well..." The tall boy's voice shifted into a whisper. Santana rolled her eyes over the melodrama, and nearly missed what Finn said next. "There's rumors going around that you, well... hadsexwithQuinn, and it's kinda bothering me, because you're my girlfriend, and, well, you're not even trying to stop them."
"Oh, that's all?" Rachel looked up at him and smiled serenely, "Because that's not a rumor." Finn's eyes widened in shock– "I really did have sex with Quinn." – then just narrowed in disgust. He muttered some excuse about having class and forgetting books or something, and lumbered off, leaving Rachel with a slightly pensive face. Santana huffed a small sigh, disappointed at the lack of theatrics and gossiping material, and turned to get to class.
It was definitely not a surprise to Santana that Finn dumped Rachel the next morning. Rachel moped around during the day, and didn't show up for Glee again. Quinn frowned at that, and ended up leaving early, citing assignments and lots of Head Cheerios planning stuff to do (Santana almost called bullshit, because she had been Head Cheerleader once, too, but she didn't say anything, opting to scowl).
The next day, Rachel was wearing a wrinkled t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a mellow smile, while Quinn skipped down the hallway, humming Bieber songs like a silly preteen girl. Santana shivered at the implications as Brittany gaped and Kurt walked into a door.
*\o/*
It was Saturday, and the glee club girls (and Kurt) were at an 'impromptu casual gathering' at the Berry household. When Rachel had asked to hang out the other day, Quinn had looked excitedly at them all, and somehow, they had all been roped in by the unknown-until-then irresistible power of Quinn's shining eyes and puppy dog pout.
Santana was thirsty, and had meandered into the kitchen to see Rachel practically in her fridge, reaching for a jug of what was presumably lemonade. It was oddly amusing to Santana that she could probably push the diva into the fridge and close the door, if she'd been feeling mean enough.
"Anything to drink in here, Man Hands?"
"Well, there's water, milk, tea, though you'd have to boil your own water... hmmmm... Oh! Lemonade? We have plain, and strawberry!" Rachel stuck her head up from behind the fridge door, "I'm pretty fond of the juice from pressed lemons myself..."
Santana shook her head, "Just water's fine, thanks." She stood timidly at the counter, still ready to bolt at a moments notice.
"Your loss," the shorter brunette shrugged, pouring a cup of pink lemonade for herself. "Glasses are in the cupboard over there, water's in the taps, and if you want ice, it's in the freezer. Make yourself at home." She walked out, and Santana stared. She was pretty sure that somewhere in Rachel's unwritten rule book of life (that she'd probably actually written out at some point, and hidden under her bed), 'be an impeccable hostess' was on there somewhere near the top, somewhere after 'wear awful sweaters' and 'talk a lot'... and that the diva had probably broken all of them
The sound of tinkling laughter (that never failed to cause a shiver to run down the Latina's back) drifted over from the next room.
What the hell had those two done?
*\o/*
Santana was definitely having a difficult time following the conversation, by this point, because the two of them couldn't stop laughing. Rachel was holding onto Quinn's arm for support, and Quinn a hand completely muffling her mouth. Mercedes had, after the second movie, and pizza (Kurt had a little freak out when he saw Rachel eating pepperoni, but she'd just shrugged when he mentioned her veganism. "Too much work," she'd muttered over her mouthful, "I'm lazy.") decided that it was time to get to the bottom of whatever it was had happened to cause the dramatic change.
"So, like, what actually happened last week, Quinn?" The smiling blonde had looked at Rachel beside her, who just turned to look at Quinn, who promptly started giggling. Amidst the laughing, something was said about how it was all Mr. Green and Biology's fault, how they couldn't decide on a topic to research, and the argument had raged out of control and completely off topic (and just plain mean), until...
"So..." Rachel gasped for air, "So I say to her..."
"...that I'm only a bitch all the time because..."
"Because she's sexually–"
"–frustrated! Can you believe it?"
"And that all she needed was..." Rachel fell over, laughing, Quinn wrapping an arm around the diva. Neither was able to finish the sentence.
Kurt raised an eyebrow, confused. "Was...?"
"A good fuck!" Rachel bursted out. Mercedes winced at the volume, while Brittany started to giggle, finally catching on. Tina just clutched a charm protectively. Santana could tell Kurt was wishing he hadn't asked.
"So I'm like, you're no different..." Quinn was gesticulating wildly at this point, causing Rachel to laugh even harder, nodding like a madwoman.
" 'Cause I'm anal retentive, and I talk too much, and I'm uptight about EVERYTHING!"
"And I'm like, in my head, Rachel just needs a good fuck too!"
"So she gives me one!" the girls cried in unison. They looked at each other, grinning and laughing, while the others just... sat and processed what had just happened. The story actually made sense somehow...
"And here we are!" Rachel exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Quinn nodded in agreement, and blew a raspberry on Rachel's cheek, giggling.
Santana just shook her head. Here they were indeed...
f-t'the-i-t'the-n.
.o.
A/N2: In case you did read the last A/N in the first chapter, Mr. Albrecht Starkarm is the coolest editor in the world, and ya'll should be jealous of his awesomeness. Just saying.
