Date Night
Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.
Author's note I: Third chapter for Date Night. Hope you enjoy it. As always, please review. I welcome all comments and complaints.
Chapter 3 – Re-do, Again
"Miss Fabray. I'm not sure how you managed to get down here again," Quinn turned and jingled her press credentials in front of Michael's face, but if she was being honest, she thought all security really saw was her shimmy and shake before letting her waltz right in, "but Ms. Berry left me with a strict policy on who was welcome, and you are not. Once again, I'm going to ask you to leave before I alert security."
"Michael, Michael," Quinn cooed as she arched her eyebrow and plastered her sincerest smile on her lips, "your security team is actually who gave me access just a few minutes ago. And I'm not here to cause trouble, I just stopped to get Rachel's opinion on the proof of her profile I wrote. She asked to see it." Quinn added a few innocent blinks for effect, hoping it would improve the truthfulness of her lie.
Michael brought his right hand to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose is frustration. He was sick of being Rachel Berry's bitch, treated more like a personal assistant than as one of the show's assistant stage managers. He wished he could go back in time the last few months to where he was simply happy collecting and organizing the props for the performances, before he had to go and befriend Finn Hudson, and before Finn Hudson had decided to "befriend" the chorus girl, Krystal with a 'K'. When Ms. Berry had found out that Michael had been helping to keep Finn's trysts secret, acting as the lookout for the cheater... Well he really didn't want to remember that moment. The screeching, the screaming, the rage. He shuddered at the thought. From that point on, Ms. Berry's list of demands, including she only be referred to as such, continued to grow. How he wished he could quit, but at the time it wasn't something Michael could afford to do. He would continue to grin and bear it and follow each one of Ms. Berry's wishes to a 'T', which included his duty to, as Ms. Berry had so nicely informed him, "Keep Quinn Fabray the fuck away."
"After the verbal abuse I suffered the other night after I let you come down here, I highly doubt Ms. Berry asked to see anything to do with you again."
With surprising force for such a small man, Michael latched on to Quinn's forearm and dragged her towards the exit.
"Get your fucking paws off me, hobbit!" Quinn growled as she fought his grip and dug her heels into the ground.
"Let go of her! What's going on?"
Both Michael and Quinn froze on the spot – Michael was sure Rachel was going to attack him right then and there for not properly following through on her orders. When they finally turned, a smile of relief transformed both their faces.
"Molly, hey! I'm Rachel's friend, Quinn, from the other week," she shouted down the hallway, "I've just stopped by to give Rachel the article I wrote, but Michael," she shot him her patented glare, "won't allow me to give it to her."
"Michael, I've got this," Molly explained as she stepped towards the pair.
"But Ms. Berry insisted that I-"
"I'll personally explain it to Rachel. Quinn? This way."
Feeling childish and triumphant, Quinn turned and stuck her tongue out at Michael's retreating form before striding after Molly.
Quinn had been so glad the cast mate to come to her aid was indeed Molly, rather than Briana. The protectiveness of the latter rivaled that of an angry mother bear. And though Quinn could hold her own, she just didn't have the fight in her at the moment. However, as Molly slammed the dressing room door and Quinn was able to examine the emotions on her face, she wished maybe she had just been escorted out of the theatre.
Molly's arm were crossed defensively in front of her chest. "Explain yourself."
Quinn forced a smile, "I already said I came to drop off the article for-"
"That's what you're saying now and that's what your excuse was last week, too, the interview. But that was also before Rachel told us about more about you...and high school," Molly just shook her head in disgust. "Article my ass. What are you really doing here?"
Quinn titled her head, thinking briefly on how she should proceed. Lately, honesty seemed to be working out best for her, so she decided to take that approach once again.
"That bad, huh?"
"Wait–What?"
"The stories Berry told you. I see the look on your face. I know what you must think of me."
"Yeah, and you're just lucky I'm the one with the earlier call time instead of Briana. Had she found you, I'm pretty sure she'd be kicking your ass right about now."
"I don't doubt that," Quinn chuckled, and this response, Quinn could tell, was not what Molly had expected, so Quinn continued. "I won't deny how horrible of a person I was in high school. I had my fair share of...issues. But I'm trying to make up for that now. See for yourself." Quinn pulled a manila folder out of her bag and Molly began to scan the article.
After Molly had finished reading, she looked up at Quinn through questioning eyes. "You actually wrote this?" Quinn nodded in acknowledgement. "And you actually believe everything you wrote, too?" Quinn just smiled.
Molly continued to stare at the blonde, pondering the situation, causing Quinn to add, "I'm trying here, you know. I'm trying to be a better person – I mean I am already a better, a different person than I was back then. I grew up and I realized my mistakes. I know I can't take them back, I can't rewrite history, but I'm not that person anymore." Quinn gestured towards the Glee Club picture adhered to Rachel's vanity mirror.
"That's really lovely, but I'm not the one that needs to hear all this. I think you need to tell those words to Rachel."
Quinn was growing frustrated. "Great. And again, that's why I'm here. To show her the article so she can read it for herself. When's her call time?"
"Oh."
That doesn't sound positive, Quinn thought. "Oh, what?"
"Rachel's not coming in tonight. First time she's called in sick, actually."
"And you're just choosing now to tell me this? What a waste-"
"No, you don't get to take an attitude with me. I was just trying to protect my friend, to figure out if you had other motives."
"Sorry," Quinn mumbled, "I just really wanted to see her tonight." She lowered her head in defeat and headed towards the door.
Quinn's mind had only been filled with thoughts of Rachel all day, really since the previous night when she had left her sitting alone in the café. She hadn't been able to forget the flush of warmth that had ignited deep within her as she watched Rachel enter the restaurant. She tried to push the memory away, bury it somewhere deep in her mind, but it had continued to float to the surface each time Quinn refreshed the FauxWriter's email account, desperately waiting for a reply to "Jack's" apology. Quinn tried to write the feeling off as guilt. Guilt for standing Rachel up, walking out of the café without any explanation, hatching what now seemed like such a childish attempt at revenge and for the way she treated the diva in the past.
Molly watched as Quinn walked, or what could be described as sulked, out the door. The blonde's behavior was unexpected, especially after their first encounter and Rachel's subsequent stories. Molly weighed her options, knowing that she'd have to eventually answer to Rachel, before sticking her head out the doorway.
"I suppose I can give you her address."
Quinn's adrenaline urged her up the steps to Rachel's building two at a time. Her index finger hovered over the call button for apartment 503 as her breathing quickened, remembering words Rachel had wrote in an email only three days prior. This was a mistake. Here she was showing up unannounced and ready to invade Rachel's space yet again. Why had she ever thought this was a smart decision? But before her doubt could take hold, she shook off her nerves, she was Quinn Fabray after all, and finally depressed the call button.
As she waited for a response, Quinn bit her bottom lip and nervously rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. After approximately thirty seconds without an answer, Quinn's inner child escaped and she started to repeatedly press the button.
Finally, an irritated voice croaked out from the intercom, "What?"
"Um, hi, Rachel."
There was a long pause and Quinn was poised to press the call button once more before she heard the response.
"Quinn?"
"Yeah. I was wondering if I could come up?"
Upstairs in her apartment, Rachel's eye twitched.
"Most certainly not. Not now or ever. I'm ill and I can't possibly afford to miss another day of performances. The best remedy for someone in current condition is adequate hydration and rest..."
Quinn leaned back from the landing and surveyed her options of how she could get to Rachel if she refused to let her in. The building did have fire escapes, so she tried to discern what side of the building Rachel's rant was emanating from. Deciding that breaking and entering was not a viable option, on a whim, Quinn decided to check to see if the front door was even locked.
"Well, damn," Quinn uttered when the building's front door opened without a fight. As Rachel's rant continued filtering out through the speaker, "...and furthermore, how dare you..." Quinn laughed, shook her head in amusement and made her way to the elevator.
Quinn had been on the elevator for what seemed like well over a minute, though it was barely twenty seconds, and she was sure that the elevator had actually stopped moving. None of floor lights lit up and there was no ding to indicate her location either. As she was reaching in her bag to retrieve her cell phone to call for help, the doors surprisingly opened to the fifth floor.
It didn't take long for Quinn to detect which hallway she should choose, left or right, because Rachel's voice was loud and clear, guiding her path to the apartment door. "...you can't just do this to people, Quinn. You can't just show up out of nowhere and try and act like the past never happened. You understand that, right?"
Rachel waited for an answer. "For once that wasn't a rhetorical question...Quinn?...are you even still out there?"
"So was that a yes or a no for coming up?" Quinn answered from the other side of the apartment's door. She suppressed a laugh as she heard a strangled shriek followed by sounds of what she assumed was Rachel stumbling backwards away from the door.
"C'mon, Berry. Open up. I even brought gifts."
That last comment seemed to do the trick as Quinn heard the locks click before the door was opened.
A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she took in a flustered Rachel. She's actually kind of cute with her brow scrunched like that. Quinn face fell as she glanced around her, wondering whose disembodied thought had just entered her mind, because surely she could not be the one thinking Rachel Berry was cute.
Rachel sat on a couch, clutching a wastebasket to her chest as if it were a shield, and stared at Quinn's features, watching with interest as varying emotions swept over the surface.
"Are you going to come in or not?" Rachel asked with eyebrows raised.
Quinn shook her head to disrupt her internal debate and slowly entered the apartment. Noticing the wastebasket melded to Rachel's chest, she questioned, "Should I be keeping my distance."
"What are you-" Rachel looked down as Quinn gestured and realized she was clutching the plastic as if her life depended on it. "Oh, no. Just a precaution. I haven't been sick since this morning. Sorry," she said and set the receptacle aside. "What are you doing here, Quinn?"
Leaning up against the entryway's wall, Quinn sent Rachel a puzzled expression from across the room. Surely Molly would have informed Rachel that Quinn was on her way.
"I dropped by the theatre and-"
"Michael let you in?"
"No, security let me in and then Michael tried to stop me. But then Molly-"
"I'm going to kill her."
"Don't blame her-"
"Don't tell me what to do, Quinn." Rachel settled her glare on the former head cheerleader as best she could. Quinn attempted to hold the gaze, but the intensity radiating out from the brown eyes across the room was too much, and finally she looked away as the silence grew.
"You said you brought gifts?" Rachel attempted to change the subject and break up the tension.
Quinn smiled. Of course Rachel wouldn't have forgotten that minor detail. "Yes." She set the paper bag down in front of Rachel on the coffee table. Rachel looked up expectantly, so Quinn continued.
"Water," she explained as she pulled two bottles from the bag. "You're sick so you should hydrate, but I think you already know this tip since you announced it via intercom to all of New York." Rachel's face was amused. "And soup from...Benson Café." Quinn pulled out a steaming container from the bag. "Because that's what I like when I'm sick," Quinn declared as she pushed the bag's contents across the table.
Rachel couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "Thank you. This was very thoughtful."
"Welcome," Quinn nodded as she reclaimed her position against the wall.
"You know, I saw you there yesterday," Rachel nodded towards the soup.
"What?" Quinn answered, though she knew perfectly well what Rachel meant.
"I saw you at the Benson. You seemed to be in a hurry, though, ignoring me when I-"
"Oh, yeah. I was studying and then was late...for a meeting. Must've had my head phones in." She hoped the anxiety she felt hadn't crept into her reply.
Silence fell over the two girls once again, and Rachel stared at the blonde across the room. Why was she just standing there? This was not normal Quinn Fabray behavior.
"So...is this all?" Rachel motioned to the coffee table, "You just stopped by to drop this off...or?"
"Right. Umm..." Quinn rummaged in her bag and produced the manila folder. As she extended her hand, she added, "Here's the article I wrote. I wanted you to look over it before I sent it in."
"Ok. Well, I was actually in the middle of a nap before you dropped by, and I'd like to get back to that, so I'll look over it later."
"Oh. I guess that's fine." Rachel was confused by Quinn's tone that almost sounded...upset.
"What's wrong? You used to get straight A's in English, right? I'm sure whatever you managed to come up with is perfectly acceptable. Why do you care what I think anyway, Quinn?" Rachel pushed.
Quinn opened her mouth to answer, but promptly shut it. She didn't know why she cared so much about Rachel's opinion. She had written plenty of other articles, reviews and profiles and had never once worried about anyone's opinion other than her editor's. But for some strange reason, Quinn Fabray was unsure of herself, unnerved by Rachel Berry, and was seeking the diva's approval, acceptance and redemption for her past sins.
"I don't know," Quinn lied, "I guess it doesn't. If you do decide to read it and want anything changed, my cell's written at the top." She made her way back towards the exit.
Rachel let out a huff in frustration. It was obvious that Quinn had wanted to say more, to explain herself, but instead she decided to stay closed off. At least that behavior was something Rachel could associate with Quinn acting normal.
Quinn's hand was in the process of turning the doorknob.
"Quinn?"
"Yeah?" she answered, still facing forward.
"Thanks."
Quinn let out a curt nod before closing the door.
Rachel waited until she heard Quinn's retreating footsteps before greedily eyeing the soup. As soon as Quinn had removed the container from the brown bag, Rachel's stomach had rumbled. She hadn't eaten since the night before. After she was stood up on her date, she made the mistake of eating leftover Thai from cartons pushed to the back of her fridge. She had suffered those consequences until early this morning when her stomach had decided there were no more contents left to purge.
Pulling back the plastic cover, Rachel smiled as she inhaled the steamy broth laced with the smells of roasted vegetables and cumin. As she walked to the kitchen to grab a spoon, she not only lectured her stomach that this particular soup was too precious to waste, but she also began to wonder why Quinn had picked up soup in the first place and how she knew to get her favorite soup. Must have been a lucky guess, Rachel assumed as she took her first bite.
She hummed in enjoyment as the broth warmed her mouth and kick started her taste buds. She curled back up on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her and pulling a blanket around her shoulders. Devouring her soup, Rachel let her mind travel to thoughts of Quinn and how their interaction today had been so different from their last face to face meeting and how she was baffled by Quinn's behavior. Never before had Rachel witnessed Quinn being so tentative in her actions. Quinn could be soft-spoken, but you were always aware of her presence and wishes, but something today something was definitely off balance. Her demeanor was very much timid and oddly cautious. Quinn Fabray was not acting like herself and that alone unnerved Rachel.
Scraping the carton of soup with her spoon, Rachel was determined to get every last bite of its lentil goodness. When she was certain that the only other option to taste the last remnants of the meal would be to lick the insides of the cup, Rachel resigned to the fact that the soup was finally gone. She set the container aside before directing her attention to the manila folder.
After her fight with Rachel in the coffee shop, Quinn had begun to plot her ridiculous revenge and had nearly forgotten about the article she was assigned to write, the whole reason she had attempted to reconnect with Rachel in the first place. Then, she received a very angry email from her managing editor demanding a copy in next three days before the month-long profiling series would end. Thus, Quinn kicked it into high gear, but the writing wasn't effortless like it normally was and her thoughts wouldn't flow. Quinn tried to rationalize her creative slump when she finally had to admit that after all the information they had exchange via email, Rachel unknowingly, that writing from her head wasn't going to cut it anymore. She needed to write from her heart. As soon as that epiphany was realized, Quinn couldn't get the words to the page fast enough. Rachel, writing to "Jack", had said Quinn brought out the worst in her. Now, Quinn was just trying to prove that she could actually bring out the best.
2016 Rising Star Series: Rachel Berry
Oct 22 | By Quinn Fabray
According to her fathers, Rachel Berry has been a diva since her first starring role, her 36-hour labor. They swear there was a musicality to her first breaths of life, that she danced before she could walk and was singing before she could talk. Rachel Berry was born to perform.
She not only credits her current success to her parents' love and support, but Berry also credits the William McKinley High School student body. Without them she never would have been slushied with an icee drink and forced to perfect the art of a costume quick-change between class periods. Her fellow peers' negative comments and criticisms also gave Berry more than enough opportunities to practice her newly acquired acting abilities. Berry found solace at New York University. This past May, Berry graduated with honors from the Tisch School of Arts where she received numerous accolades and praise for her performances and showcases.
Currently, Berry can be seen gracing the stage at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre in Hello, Again, a coming-of-age story set in post-WWII New England. She commands the audience's attention as Betty Sue, a recently engaged and pregnant woman waiting for her soldier to come home. She moves with grace across the stage and her vocal range is astonishing. Even though she has only been with the company for a short period of time, her on-stage chemistry with the rest of her cast is unusually rare and touching. It seems like they have been acting together for years.
As her fathers predicted, the small, Midwest town Berry grew up in was not able to contain her talent or aspirations. One has to question if Berry will soon outgrow New York, too. But one thing is for certain: when the stars all go out, Rachel Berry's will still be burning bright.
Note to managing editor:
Word count: 301/300. Changes? call 555-689-5605.
Quinn rolled over to the sounds of her phone vibrating across her bedside table. Wednesday was her one class-free day, and she didn't appreciate the rude interruption at barely 6am in the morning
can you meet me at 10? coffee shop across from the theatre? r
She didn't even try to suppress the smile as she replied.
Sure. See you then. Q
The bell above the shop's door jingled, halting Quinn's motions to nervously reorganize the items on table top for the fourth time. As Rachel entered the shop, Quinn had to yet again try and hide the blush and the twinge of warmth threatening to spread throughout her body at the sight of the brown-eyed girl.
Rachel glanced around the shop and went to give Quinn a small wave as she headed towards the counter to order her drink. However, the blonde motioned for her to come and join her, indicating to the two drinks present on the table.
"Lemon ginger tea," Quinn pointed to the mug sitting in front of Rachel as the diva settled into her seat. "It always helps to settle my stomach...and nerves." Though that last bit was barely and audible whisper, Rachel let out a sly smile at the sentiment as she too was feeling anxious as she tried to shake memories of déjà vu.
"Thanks for the tea, Quinn. It's actually...perfect. You're two for two, now."
Quinn finally met Rachel's eyes with a questioning glance.
"First the soup and now the tea," Rachel explained.
"Your favorite?" Quinn asked with a smile, even though she already knew the answer. Rachel had told "Jack" in detail about her favorite dishes at Benson Café before they had even arranged their first date.
Rachel nodded her head in agreement as she sipped from her mug before continuing. "So, that article you wrote..." Quinn looked up from her own mug when she heard Rachel's voice crack. Her stomach dropped to the floor when she saw the glassiness of Rachel's eyes. This was not the reaction she had expected.
"Oh my god, Rachel. I'm so sorry. D-don't cry. My deadline's not until three today. I can make changes."
"Quinn, no. Don't be silly! I loved the article and wouldn't want you to change a thing. It was beautiful."
Though try as she might to repress her reaction to the compliment, Quinn's body betrayed her, and she couldn't prevent flush spreading across her cheeks. Rachel hadn't missed the addition of the red hue on the blonde's alabaster skin.
"Wow. Never thought I could check that off my bucket list, but here it is. Mark it."
Quinn looked at Rachel with an eyebrow arched.
"Dear Diary, today I, Rachel Berry, caused former head cheerleader Quinn Fabray to blush." The comment only caused Quinn's cheeks to further deepen in color, and thus Rachel added. "Twice."
Quinn was at a loss for words as she fought the alien effects of Rachel's joke, and refusing to admit how she was truly making her feel. Finally, Quinn was able to regain enough of her composure to squeak out, "I'm really glad you liked it."
They continued to sip their tea in silence for a bit before Rachel asked a pointed question.
"Why are you being so nice, Quinn?"
"What do you mean, Rachel? I'm always nice. I'm full of sunshine," Quinn deadpanned.
For the first time in days, Rachel let out a laugh that originated deep inside and all Quinn could think about was how much she loved that laugh, and even more, how much she enjoyed being the one to make Rachel laugh. Again, she blushed at the thought.
"The only time the Quinn Fabray I know has ever been nice is when she wants something."
Quinn sat in silence as Rachel's hypothesis was indeed correct.
"Oh, shit. Seriously, Quinn?" Rachel gaped at the blonde.
"It's not like that, Rachel. I-I just...I just want to be your friend."
Rachel let out another hearty laugh before noticing the expression on Quinn's face.
"Oh. OH! Oh, my god. You're actually serious." Rachel brought her hand to her mouth to hide not only her surprise, but also yet another laugh that was threatening to spill from her lips. "Just a second, Quinn. I need to mentally write in my diary again."
Quinn finally let a small smile at the comment and Rachel's laughter filled the small coffee shop.
"You have to understand why I feel like I'm the fucking twilight zone, right? That I'm getting punk'd."
"And you understand how hard it is for me to admit this?" Quinn asked in quite the serious tone, making Rachel take note.
"I'm just having a hard time processing all of this Quinn. Where this is all coming from."
"It's been a long time coming, I guess."
"Do you care to explain?"
"Well, you know how you still keep in touch with Brittany," Rachel nodded, "she told San how you were doing and then San told me when she found I moved to New York. And then that profile assignment fell in my lap, and you were the only person I wanted to interview." Quinn blushed a bit before continuing. "I know, try to contain you shock and amusement," Quinn commented when she saw the look on Rachel's face.
"And then I didn't have any way to get in contact with to tell you I was coming to the show, and even if I had called, I'm sure you would have immediately hung up."
Rachel considered this before agreeing. "Probably true."
"So then I ambushed you, and I'm really sorry for that, Rachel, honestly. You didn't deserve that."
"And you didn't deserve the horrible things I said to you, either."
"Well, some of it was actually true. The high school stuff," Quinn clarified.
"But why were you like that, Quinn? Why were you so mean?"
Quinn had given this question a lot of personal thought since "Jack" had received Rachel's email detailing her daily torment.
"I wrote it all down in the article. I meant every word I wrote, Rachel. I was just like everyone else. Jealous that you had your whole life figured out, that you knew what you wanted and you weren't going to settle for anything but the best. And there I was, willing to settle so easy. And I'm not proud of it now, of course, but I had my reputation. It was survival of the fittest, and I was just trying to keep my head above the water."
"Thanks for your honesty, Quinn. I know how hard it must be for you to admit that you've always wanted to be my friend." Rachel was beaming across the table from Quinn, attempting to lighten the serious tone of the conversation, and Quinn couldn't help but return the smile.
"So, you'll be my friend?" Quinn asked hopefully.
Rachel returned the question with one of her award-winning smiles. "Of course."
The smiles they exchanged were genuine, and they continued chatting for a few minutes more, both finishing up their drinks, before Rachel stood to leave.
"I've got to head out. Errands to run before the show tonight. Umm..." Quinn could tell that Rachel's eyes were getting glassy again. "I really glad you agreed to meet for coffee, Quinn. I can't say I expected all this to happen," she motioned between them with her hands, "but I'm really glad it did."
She reached for Quinn's hand and pulled the blonde into a hug. "We'll talk soon?"
Quinn could only nod as she was fighting back the lump in throat, threatening to cause her own eyes to begin to water. As she watched Rachel leave the coffee shop this time around, she was glad she didn't have to angrily pack her belongings, but instead she could revel in the warmth left on her skin from Rachel's touch. For the first time, Quinn didn't push away the warmth.
from: Rachel Berry
to: TheFauxWriter
date: Oct 19, 2016 at 11:33 PM
subject: hello, again
Hi Jack,
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond to your message. I just had to sort through some personal feelings these past two days.
We did talk about re-dos, and earlier today I myself was given another chance to re-do, well, a lot and it means the world to me.
So who would I be to deny you the chance?
Talk soon,
Rachel
Author's Note II: The last line of Quinn's profile is a slight variation on a portion of the chorus in Sarah McLachlan's "Answer".
