Quinn's back. QUINN'S BACK! i don't even care that her storyline is beyond messed up but her face is back on my screen and everything is right in the world again. i'm not the only one who cried during Homeward Bound/Home, right? RIGHT?
so here's the fourth chapter. read, ponder and enjoy.
response to reviews:
Gleelover47: thank you! enjoy!
boldie: i'm so sorry...you'll know why i'm apologizing once you read this. the silver box is the box that the intruder keep his tools such as lockpicker and such.
RVNola546: Finn is her co-star. he was her ex-boyfriend. because Finn is always annoying and controlling and selfish.
Ad3n: thank you and enjoy!
Everybody was waiting in the kitchen when she returned. She looked around the room, lingering on Rachel for a second longer before settling her gaze on Azimio. She narrowed her eyes at him before clearing her throat, holding her stare.
"Someone broke into the pool house," she announced, her gaze focused on Azimio. "How did that happen?"
Azimio rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms. "You live there. Why don't you tell us?"
She clenched her teeth and faced him, her hair falling over one shoulder as she tilted her head. Unaware of a certain lustful gaze on her, she replied, "I was out teaching Karofsky how to drive so he can get Miss Berry to safety with as little harm possible, in case anything happens. Forgive me for doing my job and ensuring my employer's safety."
Azimio glared at her before leaning back against the counter. "As far as we know, there wasn't any intruder. My team has done everything according to schedule. They patrolled. They kept their eyes on Rachel at all times. We have no idea how someone could break into the freaking pool house."
"Obviously someone was slacking off," Quinn jibed. Azimio looked ready to fight back but Quinn didn't give him a chance to. "Where were you?"
"I was in the basement, checking out the firearm left for us by the last head of the team," he said without hesitation and Quinn could tell he wasn't lying.
She frowned and her mouth opened for a couple of seconds before saying, "You have firearm and you don't use it?"
Azimio looked sheepish and he cleared his throat. "The lockbox was locked and I didn't have the key. I was trying to pick the lock just now…for the hundredth time in my entire career," he added quietly.
She shook her head and cursed under her breath. She dragged her hand through her hair and turned to Marley. She could see the logbook in Marley's hands, and asked for it by holding out her hand. Marley nodded and gave it to her obediently. Quinn muttered a 'thanks' before sitting on a stool around the island and flipping the book open to the entries logged after 5:00 pm that day.
There were five people who arrived at 5:30. "Artie Abrams, William Schuester, Dustin Goolsby. Emma Pillsbury, Finn Hudson." She frowned and went back to one of the names. "Dustin Goolsby," she trailed off. It sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place it. Where had she heard of this person before? For the first time since she came in, she addressed Rachel and gestured at the logbook. "Who are these people?"
Rachel stared at her for a second before looking down at the list of names, her brows furrowing a little. "They're…they're part of the cast and crew of the movie I'm filming. Finn is playing the role of my character's best friend, so he's one of the leads. Artie is the director. Dustin Goolsby is the producer. He provided the budget for the filming. William Schuester and Emma Pillsbury are the writers. They're married as a matter of fact."
"Why did they come?" She bristled at the fact that they all left, while Finn Hudson stayed. She knew she shouldn't let jealousy cloud her mind but she couldn't help it. For all she knew, he was Rachel's ex-boyfriend from before Quinn. What if they were back together? Regardless of what Rachel told her just now, there was still a possibility for them to be back together.
"They came to discuss details of the movie with me. Will and Emma were planning to rewrite a scene. They were just asking for our opinions."
Quinn reread the name 'Dustin Goolsby'. It tickled in the back of her mind, but try as she might she couldn't dig out the memory of where she had heard of him. She scratched at the back of her neck while grinding her teeth.
"Quinn?" She looked up to see that Rachel had ducked her head to see her face. She could only see concern written all over her features. "What's going on in your mind?"
Quinn considered telling her but decided against it anyway. "Nothing," she quickly said and was fishing out for her phone when Rachel stopped her.
"No, it's not nothing. Whenever you were thinking hard about something, you'd scratch at the back of your neck and grind your teeth like you did just now. So, what's going on?" Rachel reiterated.
Quinn sighed and closed her eyes, cursing Rachel for understanding her so well. "What do you know about Dustin Goolsby?" she finally asked.
Rachel thought about it, her finger tapping on her chin as she thought. Then she shrugged with a frown. "He's the producer. He's got big bucks. He's uh…"
"He is not just anybody," Kurt interrupted, staring at Quinn. "Dustin Goolsby gives me the creeps, to be perfectly honest. He's got this crazy smile all the time and I have a feeling he has a thing for Rachel, 'cause he never stops leering at her."
"What? That's ridiculous, Kurt. He never leers at me!" Rachel practically squealed, slapping Kurt on the forearm.
Kurt hissed and rubbed his forearm, glaring at Rachel. "Yes, he does! Whenever you turn your back, he just has this look on his face like he's going to devour you or something. Trust me, Quinn, he's not simple. He might look amicable and laid back. But he always looks so phony and there's always something about him that always eats at me."
Quinn nodded and clicked her tongue. "His name just sounds familiar but I can't for my life recall why."
"There's nothing wrong with Dustin Goolsby." They turned to Rachel who looked determined to defend the man's honor. "Look, if it wasn't for him providing the budget, I would not be able to film this movie. We should be grateful!"
"Not me, no," Quinn murmured.
"Quinn!"
"What?" They stared at each other comically. It almost felt like they were bickering over whether or not they should be having bacon all those time's years ago. Quinn mentally shook her head and cleared her throat. "Look, you guys can be grateful to him all you want. My job is to protect you, so I'm not going to keep my suspicion off anyone," she emphasized so that the entire room could hear her. "You'll be going on set tomorrow to film this ridiculous movie of yours so why don't you go up to your room and get some sleep? I'll take care of things here."
"Why are you being such a hard-ass?" Rachel breathed, frustration crawling its way into her voice.
Quinn clenched her fists on the island and clenched her jaw, her eyes no longer warm or familiar, just ice cold and nothing else. "You hired me to be your bodyguard. A bodyguard is supposed to protect their employer, so excuse me if I'm just trying to do my job," she said sternly. Rachel looked stunned at her stiff tone. And a little afraid. Quinn slouched and dragged her hand down her face. "Look I know you have no reason to trust me right now because really, I lost that privilege four years ago, didn't I?" Her voice cracked.
"Quinn –"
"But please, just trust me one last time. Go get some sleep and I promise I will take care of it. And I will take care of you until all this nonsense ends then I'll be out of your hair," Quinn intervened; her voice had lost the authoritative tone, replaced with exhaustion and despair.
She stood up, not bothering to give Rachel a chance to say anything, and approached Azimio. "Get some of your team to check the security camera recordings for anyone suspicious. The rest of them should investigate the perimeter for any loophole that might allow an intruder to break in."
Azimio was smart enough to recognize that Quinn wasn't in the mood to argue with him, so he nodded and assigned his team. "You and I will wait at the threshold. My friend should be here any minute."
After they left, Rachel's stiff posture relaxed and she braced her elbows on the island surface, burying her face in her hands. "God, I'm going nuts," she whispered.
"She's right, Rachel. You should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow," Kurt said and pulled on Rachel's elbow. When she didn't move, Kurt sighed. "Rachel, please. Get some rest. Quinn said she'll take care of things from now on."
"I hate her."
Kurt chuckled dryly and stood next to Rachel, leaning forward against the island. "No, you don't."
Rachel stared at him for awhile before shaking her head and climbing down from the stool. She stood under the archway and breathed loudly. "No I don't," then silently walked away.
Kurt stared at the spot Rachel had previously occupied before heading to the living room, where he found his boyfriend and stepbrother sitting on the couch. The latter was impatiently bouncing his knee and rambling something about deserving to know what was going on. Kurt rolled his eyes and stood in front of them.
"Rachel's gone to bed," he announced, clapping his hands together. "Finn, you can either leave or stay in one of the guest rooms. It's up to you. Blaine, why don't you change first? I need to talk to Quinn about something."
Blaine nodded and patted Finn on the shoulder before walking past Kurt and headed to the stairs. Finn stood there, his arms on his knees and his hands clasped together as he stared at his stepbrother. Kurt stood with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for Finn to say whatever he wanted to say.
"What's going on?" Finn finally asked.
Kurt resisted the urge to look up at the sky and scream for salvation for his stepbrother's idiocy. "I told you, Rachel's been receiving threatening letters, okay? Quinn was hired as her personal bodyguard and she was just doing her job. So, brother, with your question answered, will you please just leave or go upstairs and get some sleep? You're on set tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Yeah, yeah." Finn stood up and rubbed his jean clad thighs. "I think I'm going to stay here. I'm really tired and stuff." He was just about to walk up the stairs before he paused and half turned to Kurt. "What's the deal with Quinn anyway?"
"What do you mean?"
"Just now, she was looking at me like I killed her mother or something. And she called me a tool." Finn looked offended and Kurt nearly laughed.
You kind of are a tool, he thought and cleared his throat, waving his hand dismissively in the air. "Oh don't worry about it. She's just wary of everyone because, you know, the pool house she lives in was broken into and you were one of the visitors who came after she left it."
Finn nodded and muttered an agreement before climbing up the stairs. Kurt rolled his eyes again and ambled towards the main door.
Quinn stopped at the threshold with Azimio next to her. She craned her neck to glance at the driveway, checking for any cars that might be heading towards them. She checked her phone for any missed calls or messages. There was a text from Santana claiming that she had called Sam, and also had two more people heading their way as reinforcement.
She replied an agreement and tucked her phone back into her pocket before settling down on the top step, to wait for Sam's arrival. Azimio took out his cigarette pack and popped one between his lips. He searched his pockets for a lighter and lit the cigarette when he found it. Quinn tried not to grimace at the odor wafting toward her.
"So what's the deal between you and Miss Berry?" he finally breached the silence.
She stiffened and looked at him over her shoulder. He was staring at him with a brow raised. "None of your business," she finally answered and turned back.
He scoffed and murmured, "Yeah right."
She furrowed her brows and pursed her lips into a thin line. She tried to reassemble her jumbled mind to find the right response without having them break out into a fight. She finally settled on a quiet, "Shut your mouth before I do it for you."
He obviously didn't get the message. "You obviously have history with her and you obviously still have feelings for her. You do know that this job shouldn't involve any emotional interception because it might ruin it for you. Not that I don't want you to ruin it, but you're protecting my boss, so whatever."
She jumped onto her feet and stalked towards him in two aggressive strides. "Yeah, well you should say that to Santana Lopez, not me," she snarled in his face. Azimio took a step back, as she was far too close and the aggression in her eyes was starting to scare him.
This was how Kurt found them when he came out the front door. "Wow, did I interrupt something?"
Quinn clenched her jaw and stepped away from Azimio's personal space. "What do you want, Kurt?"
Kurt threw a cautious look at them before stepping closer to Quinn, pulling her away from Azimio. "I'm just wondering who might that friend be." He stared at her expectantly. "I have a hunch he or she is going to be someone I know."
She raised her brow and smirked. "You're gonna have to wait and see," she croaked.
He huffed and scowled at her, crossing his arms. "Come on, Quinn. Stop hiding things from me. I need to know. I have to inform the guard to let whoever it is in anyway."
She turned to him halfway and eyed him for a moment before opening her mouth to answer him but her phone rang and interrupted her. "Sorry," she muttered and answered it. "Quinn Fabray."
"Hey, I'm outside but the guard won't let me in so can you please be so kind to tell him that I'm harmless?" Sam said, obviously annoyed.
"Pass the phone to him." When the phone was passed, Quinn told the guard that Sam was to be allowed to enter from now onwards. "You took a little longer than expected," she told Sam.
"Yeah well I was crapping when Santana called me. Trust me, my ear was all blown up because I didn't answer her calls, twice. Jesus, that woman needs treatment. She's so on edge."
Quinn laughed and nodded. "Don't I know it? Hey, I see your car now. Talk to you very soon." She shoved her phone into her pocket and smiled at Kurt. "He's coming. You can see for yourself."
True enough, a dark blue Corvette drove up and around the fountain, finally stopping in front of the mansion. The windows were tinted so she couldn't see Sam inside. The engine was cut and the door opened to reveal the grinning face of Sam Evans. Only then did she realize that she just missed her friend so much she didn't care that Azimio and Kurt were watching, she just ran down the steps and jumped into Sam's arms, laughing into neck.
"God I missed you," she muttered and nuzzled into his neck.
He laughed and wrapped his arms around her as well, squeezing her tightly. "Me too, Q Fab. Me too." They released each other eventually and laughed again. "So before I send the envelope for processing, I have news." He took a deep breath and smiled slightly. "Santana made a few calls, and within a couple of hours she managed to snag two people from two different forces, the CIA and the FBI, to help you out."
Quinn frowned. "Wait, two?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Two. She said something like you needing help and that Ra-Berry is driving you crazy," he corrected quickly but she didn't miss his almost slipup anyway. He glanced at her guiltily and cleared his throat. "One of them is me." He grinned when he saw her grin. "So, mate, ya ain't getting rid of me anytime soon," he adopted a country accent.
She laughed and smacked his chest lightly. "I'm not worried about that. So…who's the other person?" she trailed off as the passenger door on the other side opened.
"You're gonna love this," he said with a grin and turned around. "Come on out, dickhead!" he called, laughing.
"Shut your trap!" That voice was familiar.
She narrowed her eyes as the door opened wider; she heard feet stepping on the ground, the pebbles crunching under the mysterious man's shoes. Then a shaved head appeared over the roof of the car. Her eyes widened as she realized who it was.
"No way," she whispered in disbelief.
A man stood straight with his back to her before he slowly spun around with that stupid cocky grin she knew too well glued on his face. "Hey there, Quinn," he drawled, winking.
"Wait, who are you?" She frowned at him. Sam's grin dropped, as did the new guy. There was a pause where she heard a quiet gasp from Kurt. Then her lips slowly turned into a huge smile and her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Just kidding."
"Goddamn it, Q!" Sam hissed, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
Puck's jaw dropped, then he rounded the car in a flash and tackled her onto the driveway, tickling her sides as she laughed. "Don't you dare play me like that again!" Puck growled playfully. He stopped tickling her to stand and help pull her up, then wrapping her in a big bear hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning around.
Quinn shrieked and chortled heartily before yelling for Puck to put her down. "You shaved your head," she whined, rubbing his bald head roughly.
He shrugged and smirked. "Mohawk's annoying me so I shaved it off. So, you prepared for not one, but two housemates?"
She sobered and turned to see Kurt looking at them with amusement and Azimio standing just behind him with his jaw dropped. Probably because he'd never seen Quinn having so much fun before or maybe he had never thought Quinn could be so playful. She shrugged and turned back to her two best friends.
"As long as Kurt gives the okay, we can even sleep in the same bed and snuggle," she joked. Puck's face lit up. "And no, Puck, you're not getting any threesome." His grin slipped off and Sam laughed, punching him in the shoulder.
"Now that's just too naughty, Quinn," Kurt commented, clucking his tongue as he made his way down the steps to stand in front of all three of them. He smiled at the two men. "It's been a long time, both of you."
Puck and Sam smiled, both slapping him on the shoulders – a little too roughly judging by Kurt's expression. "It's nice to see you again," Puck replied and Sam nodded in agreement. "Though I'm not really too sure about our temporary employer," he said airily.
Kurt shrugged. "Well you don't have any choice, do you?" he said it more like a statement than a question. "Anyway, I'm afraid the pool house doesn't have s guestroom, so you just have to live here in the mansion. Also, no, I'm not allowing you two to share a bed with Quinn. I can't risk Rachel's bodyguards having sexual relations with each other and possibly ruining the dynamic."
Quinn rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip while the other one dragged through her hair. "Really, Kurt?" She stared at Kurt, almost too bored but he could a little hint of offense in her eyes. "You know better than that. I haven't had sex in four years and you should know why," she informed quietly and kicked at the pebbles on the driveway. "They can take the couch if you're so afraid. There are two, after all."
Kurt sighed. "Quinn, don't take this as a personal offense. I'm just trying to keep things professional."
"I don't even swing on their team!"
"Dyke," Azimio muttered on the steps and whistled, ignoring the thousand watt glare Quinn was currently sending his way.
Kurt rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers to gain back their attention. His gaze flitted from Puck to Sam then to Quinn. "I'll have sleeping bags sent over," he finally said, smiling a little. "Don't even try anything," he warned before walking up the steps into the mansion.
"Where's the envelope, Quinn? I gotta take it to headquarters. I'll be back in two hours," Sam told them, holding out his hand. Quinn handed the bag containing the recording and the envelope to Sam. Sam stared it skeptically before shaking his head. "You big coward."
"I can hear you," Quinn snapped. "And we'll talk about it when you come back. Tell them to analyze the recording I burned onto the DVD. Maybe they could get a head-start on who it is. Now get on with it!"
Sam huffed and got into the car and drove away, leaving Puck with Quinn and Azimio, who had a bored look on his face. Quinn lifted her wrist to see what time it was. Twenty minutes before midnight. She patted Puck on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow her. She skipped up the steps and stopped in front of Azimio.
"Now, you bring me to basement and let me see the firearm," she demanded.
"Oh come on! Can't we do this tomorrow? I want to go back home and I want to sleep," Azimio complained, almost to the point of whining.
"Wow, and he was the team leader?" Puck deadpanned, unimpressed.
"Hey, who the hell are you to talk?"
"Azimio!" Quinn pronounced sternly, glaring at him. "This is Puck and that was Sam. They're on the team now so start cooperating now. That goes for you too, Puckerman."
Puck rolled his eyes and hooked his thumbs on his belt loops. "Yeah whatever. So are we taking a look at the guns or not?"
The black man looked about to complain again but Quinn shut him off. "You don't get to go back home and sleep. Your team is still doing their job and when they're still awake, you're awake too. So am I. It's all fair and square. You can either get some coffee in the kitchen later or you can just fight to keep your eyes open. I don't care. Now, guns."
Azimio groaned and led them to the back of the garage. There was a small wooden shed there and Quinn frowned. Why had she not come across to it before? He produced a flashlight and turned it on, sticking it between his teeth as he attempted to unlock the huge padlock. The door opened with a creak, revealing a flight of stairs that lead down to the basement.
"I don't understand. Why do you have a cabin? It's just stairs to the basement," Puck stated in confusion.
The other man shrugged and motioned at the stairs. "After you," he said with a smile too wide for comfort.
Quinn took the flashlight from Azimio and made her way down the stairs. She stood at the bottom and waited for her two companions to come down as well. Azimio ambled past Quinn and found the switch to turn on the lights. The lights flickered before illuminating the path before them. It was obvious the power was weak because the lights were very dim.
She looked around her and found herself in a small cement room. There were spider webs all over the space and she could hear water dripping somewhere. Empty and dusty cabinets flanked the walls. Only one wasn't empty and it was filled only with a metal box.
She pointed at it and asked, "Is that it?" Azimio nodded and she approached it, taking it out of the cabinet and placing it on the floor. "You don't have the key?" He shook his head. Quinn sighed and produced two sharp pins from her hair and started fiddling with the lock.
She could hear Azimio scoffing behind her. "You won't be able to pick it. Even I can't get it open," he said almost too smugly.
"Keep your trap shut, you limpdick," Puck muttered from next to him.
She ignored them, sweating as she fiddled with the box. Finally, she felt a click and she smirked, pocketing the pins before opening the lid. She looked smugly over her shoulder at Azimio who was staring at her in shock. She turned back around to check the contents. There were two Guncrafters and six Glocks in it. There were also bullets for each gun tucked into different compartments.
"Wait that's all we have?" Azimio exclaimed, as if he expected a freaking AK-47 or something.
She took out a Guncrafter and weighed it in her hand. "Considering that you think having a taser is so bloody cool, these should suffice," she said and stood up. "Puck, you and Sam took your own, right?"
"Yeah."
She nodded to herself. "Don't judge a book by its cover, Azimio Adams. The same goes to these pistols." She finally turned around and held up the Guncrafter. "This might look 'uncool' and weak. But it can still kill when you aim it right. I hope you know how to shoot." He nodded numbly. "Good. You have seven people on your team, including you. These are more than enough. Take one for each one of them. I'll keep this one." She stuck it into the back of her pants and shut the lid of the box before carrying it over to him.
"Wait I though you have one of your own?" Puck said.
"I was thinking of a spare one in case mine isn't enough. You know, I've had that old thing for three years. Who the hell knows when it's going to act up and just get spoiled?" she said, narrowing her eyes at him. His tone was a little off putting and he sounded a little strained. "You got a problem with that?"
He stared at her before shaking his head. "No. You're right. You've got that old thing for a long time now. Take this one," he finally said, pointing at the pistol.
Quinn nodded before thrusting the box towards Azimio. He eyed it and took it, huffing when it landed heavily in his grip and he almost dropped onto his knees. She smirked and shook her head. Her smirk grew wider when she saw Puck trying to smother his laughter behind Azimio.
"Seriously, where did you get your training?" Puck struggled between wheezes.
Azimio grunted and steadied himself on his feet. "Shut up," he groaned and walked away, followed closely by Quinn and Puck.
They made it to the stairs, Azimio panting, wheezing and struggling for breath by the time they reached the top. Quinn shook her head again and locked the door to the cabin before dropping the key on top of the box.
"You should go join your teammates to check out the recordings. Distribute the pistols when they are all done with their job. Don't mistake the bullets for another. They are completely different," Quinn added before jerking her head at Puck, asking him to follow her.
He mock-saluted Azimio and trailed behind her, sticking his hands into his pockets. "So how did it go with Rachel Berry?" he asked, waggling his brows at her.
She stretched her arms over her head and sighed deeply. "I don't want to talk about that," she replied. "Now, we have to check out the recording. I have the program installed into my laptop as well." Then she quickened her pace towards the pool house.
"You're not going to be avoiding the topic forever, are you?" Puck asked as they entered the pool house. He lost his train of thoughts when he saw the interior of the house. "Holy shit."
She hummed and sat down on the couch, turning on her laptop, which was on the coffee table. "Seems like she made some money and pampered herself these past four years," she muttered and cleared her throat. "Good for her."
He collapsed onto the couch and scooted near her. Near enough for her to smell his cologne and her nose twitched. That was a familiar smell. She eyed him for awhile, her hands pausing on the keyboard. He stared back innocently. She sniffed again and frowned.
"What?" he asked.
Her eyes narrowed slightly before she shook her head and cleared her throat. "Nothing," she murmured and looked back to the laptop, clicking on the program icon. Instantly a bunch of windows appeared on screen, each showing the surveillance cameras' view. She rewound the recording to five that evening and they started watching, their eyes darting back and forth for anything suspicious.
Then, voila! The camera situated on the backdoor leading to the pool house showed a man in black, with sunglasses and a mask on, hiding his face. His actions were suspicious enough as it is as he looked around him before walking his way to the pool house. Then he appeared at the pool house front door, the recording of which she had burned for the headquarters to analyze.
"I think you found your guy, Q," Puck muttered, rubbing his palms together absentmindedly.
She rolled her eyes. "I found my 'guy' completely disguised like he's starring in the freaking Matrix. I need to know who this bastard is."
Puck shrugged. "You can't do anything until the HQ gives you the okay to run interference or shit like that. So why don't you turn off your laptop and sit down and tell Uncle Pucky your story?" Puck stated, closing the lid to the laptop as he leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head and staring at her expectantly.
Quinn raised a skeptical brow at him and smirked. "Uncle Pucky?" she enunciated. "That's the worst nickname I've heard from you." He chuckled and winked. She rolled her eyes and reclined in her seat next to him. "And I don't have any story to tell, Uncle Pucky."
"Now that's a lie," Puck immediately cut in, staring daringly at her, daring her to deny it.
"Where's Sam anyway?" she asked, totally avoiding the current topic.
He smacked her on the shoulder and brought her attention back to him. "Stop avoiding!" he yelled in a whisper. "What's the freaking big deal of talking to me? I'm your best bro!"
She scowled at him. "I'm not talking to you about her. Period," she enunciated stiffly before standing up and jogging towards the pool. In a flash, she dove into the pool – fully dressed – and started swimming laps as though she were fighting against the clock.
He jumped onto his feet and raced to the edge of the pool, watching her. "Why is it that you can talk to Santana and Sam about it but you can't talk to me?" he yelled.
She ignored him as she swam for another five laps before her head emerged from the water surface. A water drop dripped from her head and her chin, her white shirt was completely see-through and to be honest, it sort of turned Puck on. But no matter, she didn't play in his league and he was going to respect that.
"I didn't talk to Sam or Santana about it, Puck!" she snapped and dunked her head into the pool again and swam.
"You seriously expect me to believe that?" he yelled back. "I'm not an idiot, Quinn!"
Quinn reemerged from the water surface and glared at him, brushing her hair back with her hands as she panted. "Believe it or not, Puckerman, I didn't talk to them about anything. And I'm going to keep it that way." She waded her way to the steel ladder and climbed up, squeezing the hem of her shirt to get rid of some water before padding into the pool house and into the bedroom.
She strode towards the wardrobe and slid the door opened. She tugged the drenched shirt over her head and threw it into the hamper before unclasping her bra. Eventually, the pile of clothing gathered as she stood completely naked in front of the wardrobe. She randomly threw on a purple tank top and a pair of torn jeans.
She opened the door to see Puck nursing himself with a Budweiser and she rolled her eyes before joining him on the sofa. "You're buying a new can for me," she drawled and crossed her arms, laid back and closed her eyes.
"Oh come on!" Puck groaned. "It's just a can of beer."
"I paid for it so I can drink it. So you're either going to replace it or give me back my money," she retorted.
"Geez, you're so freaking stingy."
A knock sounded on the door and she grunted, standing up and heading for the door. Sam was standing outside when she opened it and she smiled, gesturing for him to come in. He came in and grinned when he saw Puck sitting on the sofa.
"Dude, you have Budweiser!" he exclaimed and strode into the kitchen to grab himself one.
Quinn rolled her eyes and when he came out, she said, "You're replacing it tomorrow."
He froze, the lip of the can to his mouth. He lowered the can and swallowed. "Are you serious? It's just a freaking beer!"
"That's what I said!" Puck commented. "And she said she bought it so she could drink it. So we're gonna have to replace them tomorrow. Fucking stingy. She's got loads of money with this job and she's asking for money from us."
"Do I look like I run a charity to you?" Quinn said, dropping onto the armchair as Sam sat down next to the other man. "Look, it's late. If you guys wanna sleep, grab the sleeping bags and sleep. I know you guys are tired. But wake up before eight tomorrow. We're heading out at nine. I need to check up on a few things."
She stood up and grabbed her phone before walking out the door. She stood outside the pool house and studied her surroundings. She inspected the bushes and found nothing, so she walked up the pavement to the backdoor and slipped in. It was eerily quiet and she kept a watchful eye around her as she walked herself to the gym. It was dark, and shadows crept up the floors and walls, cast from the moonlight shining through the thin curtains.
She found the switch and flipped it. Instantly, the room flooded with light and her eyes widened slightly at the equipment and the interior design. It was like a real gym, equipped with the best and the design was convenient and simple. She headed to the bench area and looked around. The windows couldn't be opened, and most of the walls were lined with mirrors. She frowned and looked down the floor, seeking any sign of a clue that could be left by the suspect.
She scanned the entire gym and found nothing. This person was an expert in disguising and concealing. She couldn't help but be impressed.
"What are you doing here?"
She spun around and saw Rachel standing at the door. She swallowed and tilted her head up to face her, readying herself for the bombardment of questions she was sure to receive.
Bram is happening. i can't even. Ryan Murphy aka the ruiner of his own show. i don't even know what to say.
and i'm starting to ship Karley (oops) and i love Becca Tobin! she's so adorable! oh and WWQFD? Kitty is literally me haha
one question: is Dianna going to be in the next episode?