Okay.
Situation assessment.
Location: The Fabray's patio.
Temperature: On fire.
Time: Stopped completely.
Physical issues: Sweating palms; racing heart beat.
Mental issues: Brain scrambled; uytrfdcvbjklhgfytuj.
It usually amused Rachel how her mind militarized itself when she was caught in stressful situations.
Right now?
Not so much.
She glanced down nervously at the sleeping girl on her lap. Quinn was sporting a crooked half smile, and Rachel could feel her soft breath skittering across her neck. Her short hair was gently cupping her face, and her fingers had managed to find their way under the collar of Rachel's sweater and were resting at the base of her neck.
Inhaling a troubled breath, Rachel found her body slowly untensing. She furrowed her brow and watched Quinn sleep peacefully on her shoulder. For a moment, she allowed herself to be carried away to a world where this could happen when both parties were conscious and completely aware of each other as animate objects. She pictured tiny white lights hanging from the trees surrounding them, a half empty bottle of wine, and soft music filtering-
"FROM THE WINDOOOOOOOOOWWWWSSSSS..." Her head shot up as the music once more blared from the opening door and was silenced again.
Nope.
Still at this god awful party.
In this horribly messy situation. All of her nerves and tension returned as she braced for Puck's reaction.
For a few seconds, he was completely involved in attempting to remove the twist off cap of his beer with one hand. So intent was he, in fact, that he reached out to hand Rachel her cup of water without actually looking at her.
After a moment of it hovering in thin air, he finally glanced at her with glazed eyes. Then double took.
His jaw dropped and his beer hand stilled, but the cup continued to hover.
"Uuuuuh... Berry, don't freak out. But there's a Fabray on you."
Rachel stared him down with a look that was so far beyond deer-in-the-headlights that it evolved into deer-gonna-get-run-over-by-the-OHDAMN.
"I... I... I..."
Puck's eyebrows notched higher with every vowel.
"What the hell happened Rach? I leave for a half a minute and suddenly you're Quinn's new body pillow?"
Puck's eyes darted into space as the thought sunk in.
"Actually, that's totally hot..."
"PUCKERMAN." Rachel hissed. He snapped back to. "You have to help me. She's completely out. I've tried shaking her and calling her name, but this bottle she's carrying is three quarters empty and I'm pretty sure she's the only one that's been drinking out of it."
"And how do you know that?"
"Her lip gloss is all over the top of it Puck." She frowned and looked down at it. "It's also on the bottom, which is extremely curious. But regardless! You have to help me! I'm trapped!"
He sighed and put down the cup of water, once more returning his beer to his back pocket.
"Alright, let's get her up to her bedroom."
He reached down and gently removed the bottle of alcohol, then slid one of his arms under her knees, wrapping the other around her back and attempting to stand. Quinn's hand caught the back of Rachel's sweater, and she was subsequently brought to her feet as well. The two of them stood there awkwardly with Quinn slung between them.
"Okay, well. You take her upstairs, I'm just gonna slide right on out of here..."
Rachel began to shuffle slowly to the side. "Right... just gonna... just gonna move right on over- KAY." Quinn's fingers suddenly became an ugly-sweater gripping vise as she pulled Rachel closer, refusing to let her go, "Guess we're ALL gonna go upstairs then! Yep! Let's go upstairs Puck!" She laughed with a hint of mania and glared at him. "Chop chop!"
He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, stepping towards the door. Rachel awkwardly followed suit, with Quinn acting like a skin-covered slinky between the two of them.
After a few seconds of this business, Puck sighed.
"You get on that damn fake-walking machine thing every morning, just take her. I'm going to have to clear the way through the party to the stairs anyway."
"Wait! I don't think I can-" Rachel's eyes widened as he shifted Quinn's weight into her arms. The panic eyes returned.
Dear God.
Rachel followed him on shaking legs, and Puck opened the door. He stepped over to the DJ and pulled the plug connecting his set to the outlet. A chorus of boos sounded from the party until Puck turned around and glared at them. Then, the silence was church-like.
"Alright people, party's over! Congrats on graduating, now get the hell out!"
They all began shuffling and stumbling to the exits slowly. Puck shook his head.
"I mean it, losers! You're gone in five seconds, cos you're dead in six!"
The scramble would have been much more funny if Rachel didn't feel like she was going to have a heart attack.
She stood her lone vigil in a corner, everyone far more concerned with finding an exit than a girl holding up another girl. Quinn, on the other hand, was beginning to stir from all the yelling.
"Brrmm?" She lifted her head a few inches and looked around at the mayhem. Rachel raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.
"Oh, good! You're awake. I'm going to put you down now so you can go to your-"
Quinn's head dropped heavily back onto Rachel's shoulder, and she giggled softly.
"Mmm, I feel like I'm floating..."
"W-well, you technically are, but really you're just-"
"You smell good..." She pressed her lips softly to Rachel's throat. "Taste good too..."
The brunette almost dropped her blonde burden.
It felt like chills moving down her spine, but for some reason they were lighting her on fire.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus...
Rachel wondered if this is what a stroke feels like.
*snap, snap, snap*
"Yo, Jew babe. Anybody home? Hello?"
Puckerman waved his hand in front of Rachel's face for several seconds before she was finally able to blink and unglue her gaze from the spot on the wall she'd been burning a hole into.
"Finally." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Party's cleared. Let's go."
She nodded stiffly and followed him, because she had zero clue where the stairs were located, much less Quinn's room. They crossed through the kitchen and living room before finally arriving at the staircase.
As it appeared, not everyone had left yet. Brittany and Santana were making their way down the stairs, Santana being propped up by her sweet girlfriend.
"Rrrrrrrrrred solo cup! IIIIIIIIIII fill you up! Let's have a ppaaarrttaaayyy!" Santana's words were basically sloshing out of her mouth.
"Haaay, Britt. Look! Q! And Berry! B! Hahahahaaa... QB! Like F-Finn! Where's... IS Finn? He's so tall, can't bleeve we lost him..."
Brittany smiled at them as she gently guided the drunk latina down the stairs and towards the door.
"Thanks for the party, Quinn! Though... this doesn't seem like a very fun party, if we're the only people here... funny... I swear there were more here before... And look at this MESS, did we make this mess? Oooh wait! Maybe it was the garden gnomes again... "
The blonde trailed off as the door closed behind her gently. Rachel glanced up at Puck.
"Sometimes I wonder which of them is more capable of driving home."
He grinned at her and led the way up the stairs to Quinn's room. He tried to click on the light, but it appeared that several explorative party-goers had broken the lamp.
"Well, the bed's over there in that corner. It's the size of China, you can't miss it. Just make sure you put her on her side so she doesn't choke on her own vomit and die like Hendrix. I'ma go downstairs, because I actually DON'T remember where I left Finn. Last time I found him trying to sleep in a laundry basket."
"Wait, you're leaving? But how am I supposed to-" She turned around and he was already gone. She sighed and tried to walk steadily to the bed, gently placing Quinn on the soft covers and sliding her arms out from underneath her.
"Okay," she whispered to herself softly,"let's try this again..."
She reached back for Quinn's hands and felt them mercifully loose on her sweater collar.
"Oh, thank God." She divested it of them and lowered them to the sleeping girl's bed.
She looked down at her one more time and couldn't resist the urge to gently brush the blonde locks off of Quinn's forehead. She smiled and made to turn away, when a soft hand caught her own.
"Stay."
She looked down. "Quinn?"
Quinn's eyes cracked open slightly and she looked up at the brunette.
"Berry..?"
"Yeah, it's me. I was just... coming to check on you."
"Oh..."
Rachel turned away again, and once more the hand tightened.
"... stay."
She was stunned. Did Quinn Fabray, head cheerleader extraordinaire, just ask her to stay here with her? In her house? In her room?
... In her bed?
Not a chance.
"Quinn, it's Rachel. Rachel. Remember, from Glee club?" She looked down at the drunk girl who was returning the gaze, blinking slowly.
"I know who you are, Rachel." Her words were slurred, but not whispered. "Now get'n the damn bed."
Author's Note: Sorry this is so short guys, but it's what I have for right now! It didn't make sense for me to sit on it while waiting for an epiphany that will lead to more story. I also apologize in advance for any spelling/grammatical errors. I'm quite tired and on my way to being sick. If you notice anything, please bring it to my attention and I promise I will fix it as soon as possible. You've all been so kind to me these past few days. Enjoy!
~An Insomniac