A/N Thank you all for the support you've shown for this story, I can't believe how positive all of your reviews have been and they keep motivating me to come back to this story and keep updating it for you. This one is from Rachel's perspective, I think I like playing with that and will be switching back and forth between Rachel and Quinn for the rest of the chapters. Read, review, rejoice!
"That woman truly is horrid." Rachel said, flopping tiredly onto the small worn couch in her shared apartment.
One of her roommates, Kurt, was occupying the other end and he flicked his eyes up from the fashion magazine he was reading long enough to give the diva an amused smile, "Another fun dance class with the infamous Cassandra July?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Ha!" she laughed humorlessly, "Fun is one way to put it... That is if you consider getting yelled at by psychotic whack job brandishing a cane fun."
"Mh, can't think of a better way to spend my weekdays." Santana said from her position in their small kitchen. She was preparing dinner for the other's, and took a break from her cooking to subtly put out two shot glasses and fill them. Kurt went into the kitchen to sit on a barstool while Rachel just flopped further down so her feet ended up over the back of the couch.
"So Rachel, did anything special happen today?" Santana prompted, Kurt gave her a sneaky smack on the arm.
"No!" Rachel cried exasperatedly from the couch, "I missed my stop on the subway because I though that I saw her again." Neither of her roommates had to ask who the her was. There was no question it was the blonde who had saved her from the train.
At the mention of the infamous her, both Kurt and Santana threw back the shots the Latina had poured and the glasses were quickly refilled. It had become a drinking game between the two that whenever Rachel brought up the blonde, they did a shot. Rachel either hadn't caught on or was choosing the high road to ignore it.
"I ended up on the other side of the city and Ms. July spent half the class just harassing me and calling me names. Worst day ever." Rachel had spent the past week drifting around in search of the elusive blonde who had pulled her out of the subway tracks. "I don't think I'll ever find her." she sighed resigned.
"What are you even going to do if you find her Rach?" Santana asked, over the past few months of living with Rachel she had grown to care for the diva and didn't want to see her get hurt when she had so clearly fallen for someone so elusive.
"I don't know. I guess I just wanted to thank her." with her feet swept over the back of the couch and her head dangling over the front, Rachel was staring up at the ceiling as she tried to collect her thoughts. She never had thought past finding the blonde again, "There was just this... connection between us when she grabbed me and our eyes met. It was as if the world had stopped and nothing else mattered, just that we were both there in that moment."
Santana shook her head, "Only you can make almost getting killed by a subway train into a sappy love story instead of an intense action thriller." she brandished the knife she was using accusingly in Rachel's direction, "It's sickening."
"Watch where you're pointing that!" Kurt squealed and the Latina grudgingly began chopping vegetables again with the knife safely on the cutting board, "Santana has a point though Rachel. I mean it sounds like you fell in love with her in the span of two seconds. You don't even know if she's gay!"
The singer sighed, they were both right but that didn't deter her one bit. She rolled off the couch with natural grace that came from years of ballet. Making her way over to her roommates, she took the full shot that sat in front of Kurt, "That doesn't mean I can't dream!"
"God you sound like a Disney movie! It's disgusting." Santana said, shutting her eyes as if to avoid having them scarred by Rachel's positivity. They shot open seconds later when Kurt and Rachel heard the knife clatter to the floor and the Latina begin cursing in rapid spanish.
"What did you do!?" Rachel yelled, running around to the other side of the counter to survey the damage. Santana had cut herself and blood was steadily flowing out of her finger and turning the translucent white onions she had been dicing red.
"What does it look like Berry? I cut myself, now help me out!" the brunette's face was twisted in pain and she was nervously shifting from foot to foot.
Rachel grabbed the slightly bloodstained knife from the ground and threw it in the sink, the last thing they needed was one of them stepping on it and cutting their feet now. One crisis at a time was enough. Immediately, Rachel's first aide training kicked in and she took control of the situation, "Santana put your hand over the sink, Kurt grab the rubbing alcohol and some gauze from the bathroom."
Both roommates did as instructed and Rachel grabbed a nearby clean towel to press to Santana's finger until the disinfectant arrived. Upon closer inspection, the Latina had cut her pointer finger just above where it connected to her hand, it looked deep but not deep enough to require stitches. Kurt was back in no time with the requested supplies and stood back to let Rachel do her thing. The singer poured some rubbing alcohol onto a gauze pad, "Santana, listen to me. This is going to sting really badly but I need you to keep the gauze pad pressed on your finger so you don't get an infection ok?"
The Latina had her eyes squeezed shut in pain but she managed to nod that she understood and Rachel quickly replaced the towel with the alcohol pad. The new wave of Spanish cursing almost drown out the doorbell, but Kurt heard it and immediately volunteered to get it, anything to escape the macabre scene in the kitchen. Before he could go, however, Rachel handed him the bloody towel with specific instructions to dispose of it.
Kurt held the towel from one of the few unstained corners with distasted, the last thing he needed was to pick up some sort of disease from Santana, but made his way to the door nonetheless. He opened it to find a composed blonde woman standing in the hallway who took in the bloody towel Kurt was holding and the loud Spanish cussing from inside the apartment with ever growing eyes.
"Hello!" he said, trying to break the awkward silence. Opening the door with the bloody towel probably should have been an instinctive no-no but Santana was so distracting with her incessant yelling. He felt like one of the ugly step-sisters, driving this poor woman away with his creepy door answering and hearing Santana's continued cussing in the back ground it was a miracle the woman hadn't run for the hills yet. But he tried to make it less uncomfortable, dropping the towel to his side and prompting her to speak, "How can I help you?"
"I was just about to ask the same of you, is everything alright in there?" the blonde said, still fixated on the bloody towel in the man's hand.
"No, we're all just peachy in here." he answered with a large smile that clashed horribly with the scene playing out in the kitchen.
Rachel and Santana could be heard yelling at each other from deep inside the apartment, "Hold still and it will hurt less!"
"Hurt less? Really Hobbit? I don't think you're qualified to tell me how much something is going to hurt considering your finger isn't gashed open and spurting blood faster than catsup in a McDonalds!"
Kurt just maintained his smile as a flabbergasted blonde tried to form words to explain what she was doing on their front step. Kurt filled for her though, asking a simple question, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"
The blonde seemed to snap to her senses and dragged her eyes to meet Kurt's instead of staring at the towel, "Quinn, Quinn Fabray."
Hope you all liked it, it's a bit longer than the other chapters. Thank you again for all of your support it blows me away how much positive feedback I've gotten for this story line that I was planning on just being a little one-shot.
Love, Ms. Informed13
