No Stranger Would It Seem || Chapter 3
Rachel Berry
The night of Will Schuester's murder, as her name suddenly became Miss Scarlet, they all parted, going upstairs to get to their separate rooms. She stole a glance at the blonde girl who she had been singing with before; a small, sad glance. Miss White. She had never known her real name.
Rachel had begun carrying her stuff up to the room when the Latina girl, who went by Lady Raven, came up next to her. "We're in a room together." She half-groaned, making Rachel sigh, "I'm having Sergeant Owl take my stuff to the room. You should get Colonel Mustard to get yours, he's all over you." She reported, with yet another half groan.
She hooked her pinky with Rachel's. "We should be allies. Or more than allies." She winked to Rachel, making her gasp slightly. "I'm kidding, Scarlet." She lied with a sigh, bumping her shoulder against the small brunette's. "I do know the way you and Miss White have been looking at each other lately. Your emotions get you out in a game like this. Sure she's gorgeous and probably sexy as hell, but just deal with it, kay?"
"I need to get some sleep, which doesn't sound like what you have in mind." She prodded, turning to catch Colonel Mustard's small wave as he walked over, standing tall and offering to carry Rachel's suitcases, to which she gladly obliged.
Rachel and Lady Raven headed up the staircase together, walking to their room and allowing the boys to put their stuff at the edge of the beds before Lady Raven forced them out, locking the door behind him and turning back to Rachel with that self-satisfied, mischievous look in her eyes.
She gestured for Rachel to come over to her, and she silently obeyed.
The Latina girl whispered, "Us girls have to stay together." To which Rachel nodded eagerly.
She swallowed thickly, tongue darting out to lick her lips, biting her lower one after that, in such a way that seemed definitely intentional. The other girl smirked down at her, before leaning in, and sealing the deal as her lips ever so lightly brushed against Rachel's.
"Goodnight." She whispered, before walking back to her bed with a sway in her hips, making Rachel's breath catch as her tiny pink, lacy nightgown rode up in the back where she had been staring- not exactly accidentally. It wasn't her fault her roommate was sexy as hell.
…
Rachel lay awake in her bed that night, thinking to herself. Why was everyone in the house looking at her like they were? There was Colonel Mustard, and then that guy with the Mohawk… Sergeant Owl, she thought. And Miss White who, okay it was her fault that time, and she didn't mind it at all. She liked the way they sang to each other, but then there was Lady Raven, who had made her intentions very clear.
She didn't like labels; really, Rachel just loved who she was in love with.
And maybe she didn't even have those feelings or Miss White at all, maybe it was just that she wanted to see if she could break down the barrier she had clearly built and get her to be in love with her. Maybe Rachel only wanted to know if she had that power. Maybe in the end, her curiosity would make her wicked in the end, but it was the only thing about her that ever stayed constant.
She looked over at Lady Raven every few moments, and when she was sure she was asleep, she crawled over to her side of the bed, crouching down to un-tuck the tag of her suitcase from inside of it, reading the label that was printed in small, messy cursive. Santana Lopez.
She smirked at the name, before tucking herself in between blankets again, and falling asleep.
…
Her eyes were the first to flutter awake in the morning, almost by instinct glancing over to Santana's bed, where she lay all suggestively twisted up in the sheets. She sat up slowly, walking over to the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. "Hey, Scarlet." She heard a velvety smooth voice greet in a call from outside of the room.
Maybe she wasn't the first of them to wake up.
She was completely and effortlessly silent until suddenly Santana had entered the bathroom and pressed up against her, pinning her and squishing her front again the bathroom door, breathing against her ear. "I expect an answer when I address you, Scarlet, hear me?"
Rachel let out a loose whimper before wriggling away from a giggling Santana with widened eyes.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Bambi." She teased. Santana just sighed as she leaned back against the counter. "C'mon, I'm hot, you're hot, and there shouldn't be any objections to us getting it on. There's a murderer in this house and he could kill me or you or little Miss White any moment they wanted to, we should make the most of the life we have left." She reasoned with a shrug. "Besides, I know you want me." She added, as she brushed her hair and swayed out of the bathroom and out of the guest room completely.
Rachel was left breathless once again. And she just knew she was being completely stupid right now, but it was so hard not to want Santana like that… with her skin glowing, begging to be marked and her eyes dark and her voice sexy and her hair messy and all over the place, and don't even get her started on that body… but it was wrong, she wanted her, but she didn't want the guilt.
She sighed a heavy sigh, slipping into a white, cherry covered dress and putting her hair back into a tight bun, her lips stained a bright shade of red. As she had finished getting ready, she walked down the staircase carefully in her four-inch heels. If there was one thing she refused to do, she wasn't dying in a mystery murder house by falling down as marble staircase.
She sat next to Miss White at the edge of the dining room table, picking at a vine of grapes and allowing herself to drink in the angelic sight before her, Miss White, pure and pristine in her short, white dress, her silvery blonde hair in perfect curls, cascading down her shoulders. Oh god, this was getting /way/ to symbolic now, wasn't it?
She looked up at Brody when he entered the room, throwing a vial of a lethal-looking black liquid at her, to which Miss White caught and stood up almost protectively, making Rachel smile the smallest bit.
Brody announced that the liquid was found in William's suit pocket after he was murdered, and someone whispered that they had finally found their first clue.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and wished that she could go back to when she was blissfully unaware that any of this would happen to any of them. She bit back a tiny yelp as she realized her fears had started an anxiety attack, leaving her whole body shaking. As she couldn't help it, she took Miss White's hand, the blonde girl looking down at their hands clasped together. "I'm frightened." Rachel whispered shakily, tears brimming her brown eyes.
Miss White sat up, turning to Rachel and squeezing her hand tight. "Hey, R- Scarlet, Scarlet, Sh. everything is going to be alright, okay? You don't need to be scared; I'm not going to let anything happen to you." She whispered, leaning in to peer deep into Rachel's gaze. There was a wordless explanation. Rachel had gotten Miss White to sing again. For that she was grateful. And never once in her days of being 'bad' had she wanted to start over more than she had for those few minutes they were singing together.
Rachel nodded. She could take care of herself. She could get out of here without anyone holding her hand. But that was not going to change the fact that she was truly and undeniably scared.
The hand that wasn't holding Quinn's remained shaking until breakfast was over.
Santana Lopez
Santana would be lying if she denied that she had been in competition with pretty, darling Quinn Fabray all her life. She was a slut. She was pitiful. She had potential, she blew it, and now she expected Santana to step aside all over again? Uh-uh. That's not how it worked where he was from.
Maybe it was cruel, but Scarlet had become her new project. She saw the way they were looking at each other yesterday, and she would have to be an absolute moron if she just let the opportunity slip by her.
Of course, out of the corners of her eye she caught Miss Scarlet grab Quinnie's hand in a near desperate manner, as her breath quickened. Santana's eyes widened slightly and she sat up, trying not to look like she cared that much even though she was obviously rather concerned for her 'friend'.
Most people hadn't noticed her little attack as she whispered to Quinn and Quinn whispered back. In fact, many had filed out of the dining room to continue on with their days when Rachel had gotten up out of her seat a little too fast, and fell right back down to the floor. Her eyes were closed. And she was… completely unconscious.
"Oh my god." Santana whispered as she shot up right out of her seat and by the brunette's ide, shaking her shoulders a little less than gently. "C-come on, Scarlet, I need you to wake up. Us girls have to stay together, right? C'mon, Scarlet." She mumbled her tone maybe a little harsh however quivering with nervousness. What if someone drugged her when she wasn't looking?
"Don't yell at her, Santana." Quinn hissed as she knelt down beside Rachel, pulling the shorter brunette into her arms and holding her close. "Check h-her heartbeat, a-and her pulse, just…. Make sure she isn't dead please?"
Santana nodded weakly, reaching down to grab Scarlet's wrist, moving her thumb around in frantic movements to find her pulse. She was never good at that, anyway, not even when she tried to find her own pulse that time. Quinn reached up to see about her heartbeat.
"I think she's alive." Quinn reported.
Santana rolled her eyes and half-groaned as she felt Scarlet's heartbeat as well, "Great work, Sherlock." She hissed back at Quinn, who very carefully slipped Scarlet back onto the floor without hurting her, the brunette making a soft 'thump' and remaining just as peaceful as she had previously.
She stood up, gesturing for Santana to come at her, lips pursed and hands on her hips. "It's really not the time for this, Lopez." She warned, pushing the Latina girl as soon as he stood up, "I know you're jealous of me and everything, but when someone's life is on the line, that's where it's time to stop."
"Yes, yes, words of wisdom from a prostitute." Santana hissed, pushing Quinn back.
"And would they be any better coming from a con-artist?!" Quinn shouted, the wooden doors to the dining room suddenly swinging open, a few of the guests appearing, including Brody in the front of the group. They rushed in as one of them spotted Rachel on the floor.
"You two, to the study. Now. You'll be questioned while we bring Miss Scarlet up to her room to rest." Brody announced, pushing through Quinn and Santana before scooping Scarlet into his strong arms and heading toward the doors once again. "Mr. Green." He started, with a nod toward the tall writer boy, "Be there when she wakes up." He ordered, Mr. Green just nodding and following the two.
She assumed questioning was not going to be fun.
Santana headed to the small study, which she had seen the day before while exploring the mansion and looking for items of value she could later slip into her bag. Quinn followed behind, trying to put on her best innocent girl face as he stepped into the study along with Santana, both of them taking seats by the fireside and crossing their legs out of habit.
The little dorky Harry Potter look alike- Professor Plum- sat in front of the two girls on top of the desk, the Asians, Sergeant Owl, Mr. Gray, Madame Rose, and a few other crowding around him as he looked between the two girls. He pulled out a lace glove from his pocket. "First thing's first. Does this belong to either of you?" He asked, squinting his honey-hazel eyes slightly.
"No." Quinn answered confidently, though Santana seemed hesitant in answering, biting her lip.
"…Yes." The Latina girl said, trying not to look scared.
Professor Plum nodded, grateful that at least the first suspect was one that was painfully truthful. At least it was better than someone denying everything. "And, Miss Raven, where were you at precisely 7:23 last night?" he asked, setting the vile of black poison and the glove aside on the table.
Santana was not the murderer. She would have come out and appreciated her power already if she was. And she never lied, not once. "I had just come back from changing into my nightgown and had come here, to explore a couple of rooms for reasons regarding my occupation." She answered, without hesitance. "And it's Lady Raven, Professor."
"I'll address you as I shall address you." The professor shrugged a sigh on his lips as Santana stood up threateningly and folded her arms across her chest, taking a step forward that sounded through the study as her five inch heels clicked against the floor.
She laughed humorlessly. "Oh, okay, Charming, listen. I know you're mad that Brody took Ladyboy Green upstairs with him, so you can't play right now, but I deserve some fucking respect, got it?" She threatened with a certain fire in her black eyes, pushing the Professor's shoulder harshly.
The professor only stood still, sighing and turning to Quinn. "Miss White." He addressed, smirking.
…
Rachel Berry
Rachel woke up at exactly the wrong time. It was her first thought when her eyes fluttered open to see a boy with chestnut hair and glasz eyes, sitting on a suitcase and slapping the muscular butler across the face. She squeezed her eyes shut again before hearing a giggle coming from the younger boy in the room. "Oh, I guess it's time for you to go, asshole. Don't touch my book!" He warned, holding a hardcover book protectively as Brody left. It had a silver title scribbled out in thin, messy cursive on the cover. "Blackbird," By William… Green.
She looked up curiously at the man, a white sheet tucked around her still-shaking figure as she sat up, just as silent. "You passed out at breakfast." Mister Green informed with a half sigh, half groan. "Miss White and Lady Raven are currently being questioned in the study."
He set 'blackbird' on top of a notebook beside him, an old leather journal with the initials 'B.A.' carved into the front in a messy cursive much different from the kind on the hardcover book. "Quinn wouldn't kill someone." She said confidently, leaning back against the wall.
"These are bad people, Scarlet. Miss White isn't the virtuous virgin she likes to play." Mr. Green sighed musically, studying his hands as Rachel glanced up at him, her warm brown eyes still full of an undying and lethal curiosity.
She shook her head, "And why would you make that assumption?" She asked, stubbornly.
Mr. Green simply pulled out the leather notebook and flipped the pages around to show how full they were, of everything Blaine had known previously or logically inferred about the guests. "Professor Plum has always been foolish like that." He said, with a small smile to himself that he simply couldn't help.
"Again, you know this how?" Rachel asked.
"We met on a private school staircase. Had eyesex for ten minutes, it was great." Mister Green chuckled, almost sadly, almost like he was finding an excuse to laugh so he wouldn't go back to crying. Rachel was rather good at observing those kinds of things.
She nodded simply as he stood up, tucking the leather journal back under the pillow of one of the beds, whether it was his own or Professor Plum's she had no idea, but at least he had put it away for now. "Do you and the butler know each other?" She asked, standing up cautiously and looking at the book that Mister Green had been holding on to for dear life.
The man only chuckled, "No, no. Don't think I'm mental for guarding this book, he was just being an ass and… there are only three copies of this. I wrote it a couple years ago, and it's actually… it's rather dear to me." He nodded his voice softer now.
Rachel smiled a little to herself. "I could tell."
Honestly, Rachel had no idea why she hadn't put the puzzle pieces together before he explained it to her. Mr. Green, William Green. William Schuester and… whatever the 'green' came from. He obviously must've been very close to the man. She could be good at this whole murder mystery.
…
The two of them headed downstairs moments later, and the guests had all filed out of the study. A very silent Rachel walked to stand among the guests, finding Miss White and whispering to her. "I want you to tell me who you were before you came to the mansion." She insisted. When Miss White shook her head, she stubbornly spoke again. "Tell me or Santana will."
