A/N: I'd like to thank everyone reading and following this story and a special thanks you to those who leave reviews. Knowing that people are reading and enjoying this really makes writing it worthwhile. I wasn't sure how this concept would be received. I only hope you continue to enjoy the way I plan on taking this story. Fair warning things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get better. Enjoy :-)
Chapter Six,
Quinn, not realising exactly how exhausted she really was, sleep the entire night and most of the next day. When Rachel returns from her day of classes at juilliard she finds Quinn in almost the exact position she left her in, let letter she left on the bedside table explaining her absence remains in touch indicating that Quinn has slept for almost solid twenty four hours.
Rachel smiles at the sleeping girl before deciding to fix her something to eat before she wakes her. She settles on a salad sandwich and a glass of juice assuming Quinn wouldn't be able to stomach anything too heavy right now.
Setting the sandwich and juice on the bedside table Rachel takes a seat on the bed and gently shakes Quinn awake. Quinn half opens her eyes to look at the intrusion to her sleep and once realising it's only Rachel she buries her head in a pillow and mumbles something that sounds like "No, sleep".
Rachel can't help but smile, finding the whole performance adorable. "Baby, you've been sleeping for almost twenty four hours. It's time to get up".
Rachel's efforts are met with an unintelligible murmur and Quinn turning her back on her. Ok so maybe not so adorable anymore, Rachel finds herself thinking. She tries another tactic.
"Quinn!" She all but yells shaking the blondes shoulder roughly.
Quinn rolls back around to face Rachel with an annoyed huff, eyes slightly more alert this time. "What?" She grits out.
"You gotta get up. I made you a sandwich I suggest you eat it". With this Rachel stands and storms from the room.
"Shit" Quinn mutters, she didn't mean to take it out on Rachel but she had always been difficult, bitchy really, when tired especially when she is as exhausted as she is. Are all relationships meant to be this hard this early. Is that what this was, a relationship? Quinn having been incarcerated for all if her adult life wasn't sure.
She wanted to get up and follow the girl although she didn't think she could find the energy right now. She resigns herself to just reaching over and attempting to eat the sandwich Rachel, considerately, made for her. She only manages a few meagre bites before polishing of the entire glass of juice.
With some sugar in her system Quinn felt a little better, but she still felt like death. Her eye throbbed, her stomach shoots pain through her at every movement and she was so exhausted she felt she could sleep for another week.
Five minutes later Rachel storms back into the room. "It's almost six Quinn and I know you have work in three hours so I strongly suggest you get up so you can go home and get ready".
Quinn grabs Rachel's wrist as she reaches for the half eaten sandwich and empty glass, forcing her to look at the blonde. "I'm sorry, come here".
Quinn starts to pull her onto the bed. Rachel halfheartedly resists at first but soon succumbs and lies on her bed next to Quinn, wrapping her arm around her waist and resting her head on the blondes shoulder.
"I know I'm difficult, I don't try to be it's just…" She sighs deeply "I know it's cliché but, it's not you it's me".
"Up until a week ago I've been in jail since I was 17. Things are different in there, you have to be different to survive. The truth is I don't know what I'm doing, all I know is I'm happier when I'm around you and I want to get to know you better".
Quinn can't look at Rachel as she makes this confession. In the life she's know something like this would be seen as a weakness, but this was different, Rachel was different. When she finally builds up the courage to look at Rachel she finds tears glistening in the girl's eyes.
"It doesn't matter what you where, all that matters is what you are. When I look at you I don't see a drug using ex criminal, all I see is Quinn Fabray and I want to get to know her too". With this Rachel presses her lips to Quinn's softly, not wanting to hurt her bruised face.
"Um, did you need your ah, stuff to wake up properly?" Rachel asks a few minutes later shy all of a sudden, hesitating around the word 'stuff' like she doesn't want to really admit what 'stuff' referred to.
God yes she didn't but she didn't want to tell Rachel that, especially following her expressing her feelings on drugs.
"No It's ok, I should be ok to get up in ten minutes or so".
"I've been doing a lot of thinking about our conversation this morning. And while I don't agree I understand that, certain drugs" that hesitation again. "Are highly addictive and you can't just stop using them just because I don't like it. I'd rather know then you doing it after you leave and keeping it from me. If we want this to work we need to compromise, you be honest with me and I, very slowly of course, make you realise you don't need it and eventually help you kick the habit".
Quinn truly doesn't know how to respond to this. Rachel must have sensed the reason for her silence.
"I'm serious Quinn, I want to know you, all of you" Rachel reassures her with another light kiss.
"In that case yes I need some".
"Um" Rachel mutters suddenly getting shy again. "Can… Can I watch".
At this point Quinn feels that this beautiful girl before her will never cease to surprise her. Quinn's initial thought is that it's a terrible idea, but if they are going with complete honestly maybe it's not such a bad idea. Besides Quinn doesn't think she'll ever be able to say no to the girl.
"If you're sure. It's really not much to see though". Quinn hesitantly consents. "Can you do me a favour?" She asks Rachel sweetly. "Can you grab my bag for me? I left in on the couch yesterday".
Rachel presses a third kiss to Quinn's lips before bounding up and out of the room. She returns a few moments later and places Quinn's bag next to her on the bed before sitting facing Quinn with legs crossed and hands on knees.
"Just so you know this is not me condoning drug use. I stand by what I said before". Rachel says as Quinn pulls her protective case from her bag.
Unable to help feel that this whole situation is surreal, Quinn proceeds to pull her pipe from the case. Laying the pipe on the bed Quinn pulls out a satchel filled with a few grams of rocks and uses a straw to dig out a large shard and place it gingerly in the bowl of her glass pipe.
"Is that a lot?" Rachel inquires innocently.
"It's maybe two and a half grams"
"And how much does that cost?" Rachel proceeds to question.
"Umm I dunno maybe $6-700?"
"Omg that's so expensive! How long will that last?" Rachel never let's the bombardment of questions stop.
"Maybe 3-4 days"
"I'd heard it was expensive but I had no idea. How do you afford it?".
"Baby, I appreciate your enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge but I'm fighting consciousness right now. Can we please save the twenty questions until I'm done". Quinn scolds lightly.
"My lips are sealed" Rachel responds mining zipping her mouth closed.
Quinn chuckles at Rachel's antics before returning her attention to the task at hand. She brings her lighters flame to the bowl and melts the rocks to a chemical puddle that soon solidifies into one flat disk of crystal when the heat is removed. Then she blows into the end off the pipe to rid it of all the smoke that this action caused.
"Why do you…" Rachel's question is cut short by a mock glare from Quinn and she responds with a guilty look and a repeat of her earlier mime.
This time when Quinn brings the lighter to the bowl and liquefies the crystals she actually brings the pipe to her lips and starts inhaling the smoke slowly. After a few seconds she removes the flame and begins swinging the pipe left to right in a continuous movement as she continues to suck the smoke into the lungs.
Rachel notices the difference in Quinn almost immediately. Her skin a little less pale, her eyes more alert, her shoulders a little straighter. She doesn't know what to make of the immediate change and so chooses not to comment. She watches Quinn watch as the liquid turn back into crystal before she brings the lighter back to the bowl to repeat the whole process. After taking five puffs, Quinn is her energetic self again. She carefully replaces her pipe and satchel into their protective case then puts the case in her bag.
"You are amazing you know that" Quinn tells Rachel hugging her.
"Fuck is that the time?" Quinn shrieks. Rachel turns her head to look at her alarm clock that Quinn had just noticed, reading 7.30pm.
"I gotta go, sorry babe, I'll make it up to you tomorrow. I promise I'll answer all your questions" Quinn rushes out almost in one breath as she kisses Rachel one last time and practically jumps off the bed and runs out of Rachel's apartment.
xxxxxxxxx
Quinn walks into 'Brits' at her usual time of 8.50pm. She begins her usual routine of cleaning and double checking her work station when she is confronted by Brittney.
"You look like shit!" She states bluntly.
"Thanks" Quinn deadpans as she is double cleaning a few glasses that seem to have been missed on her days off.
"An angry Mexican girl came in here earlier asking about a 'blonde princess who thinks she's better than the rest of us'. She shouted what I think where some pretty nasty things in Mexican on her way out when I told her you weren't here. She looked even worse than you, somehow I don't think this is a coincidence".
Looks like Santana isn't quite as over it as Quinn thought she would be at that point. Something she'd have to deal with later.
"So you're a drug dealer" Britney states bluntly and had Quinn been drinking anything at the time she would of sprayed it all over the bar.
"What?" Quinn asks trying to act confused.
"It's ok I won't tell my brother".
"Brother?" In the short time he had worked for Britney she had proven that she was on a level all of her own. But even this was surely too much.
"Yea you know. Sam!" Britney states like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"I don't know any…" Then it all hits her.
"Sam's your brother!" Quinn exclaims, it certainly explained why a parole officer would make an ex con work at one of the seediest bars in NYC frequented by criminals, delinquents and problem alcoholics.
"Yea, once people get a taste of this place they don't last long. So I asked Sam to send me a parolee under threat of jail, I figure as bad as this place is jails gotta be worse right?"
Quinn looks around the bar, taking in all the sights, smells and sounds. "Debatable" Quinn laughs.
"So about you being a drug dealer. I have a business proposition for you. You see the resister every night you know this place is making a lot" Brittney motions to the patrons of her establishment. "Look at these guys, you can sell lots of drugs here. I've owned this place for years now I know everyone, I introduce you to people you do your drug dealer thing an you give me 20% of what you make. It's win-win you sell more and I earn more. Think about it yea?". And without a further word she turns on her heels and bounds away leaving a very confused blonde cleaning the same glass as when the conversation began.
xxxxxxxxx
Quinn's favourite time of the night, besides the obvious quitting time, was an hour before closing time. When the most rowdy customers had either passed out or moved onto greener pastures. The rush had dropped off enough to not be overwhelming and she can relax but still big enough that she had stuff to do and wasn't bored out of her brain.
She has met many a interesting character working the bar in her short week. Say what you want about 'Brits' but you can never says it's boring. It's during this period that the most interesting conversation thus far takes place.
One of the bikers who frequents the dark corner with his friends take a seat at the bar and orders a beer. This in itself is an anomaly as the bikers normally just call loudly for Quinn to bring them another round. He is probably early thirties with shoulder length, scruffy, sandy blonde hair and a scruffy medium lengthed beard of the same colour.
"Names Jaxx" that's the second anomaly, apart from ordering beers and loud rambunctious taunts to other patrons, the bikers generally keep to the themselves.
"I'm Quinn" she offers, sliding his perfectly poured beer, if she must say so herself, to him across the bar.
"Yea I know. Brit told me about you" he says casually taking a long pull from his beer.
"Oh really" Quinn says quirking an eyebrow and leaning across the bar. "And what exactly did Brit tell you?".
Jaxx looks to his left and right, satisfied no one is close enough he leans forward to mirror Quinn. "That you can get us what we want. We're broadening our horizons and expanding into new fields"
"And how much are you willing to pay for these 'new fields'?". Quinn decides to play his game.
"We got $200,000 cold hard cash waiting. As soon as you can get it together. Can you handle that much?"
Quinn does the maths in her head, she can get three pounds for $150,000 and pocket $50,000 minus Brittney's 20%. $40,000 isn't bad for a day's work, the question is can she trust these guys, and can she trust a woman whose brother was her parole officer.
"That's not the question. The question is can I trust you, and more importantly why should I trust you".
"Fair call" he says as he pushes himself off the bar and comfortably back in his stool. "Can't say I can answer that one. This game is all about risks, roll the dice Blondie, you in or out".
Quinn realises she has to make a decision fast. These aren't punks like Johnson's crew playing gangster, these are successful, organised criminals and ripping of your suppliers is hardly the best way to conduct business. He's right Quinn had to roll the dice.
"I can get you three pounds for $200,000. You like it we can talk about further business relations".
Jaxx smiles at her. "Good choice" he slides a piece of paper across the bar to Quinn. "You can contact me on that number when you've got it all together". With that he skulls the remainder of his beer and walks back to his drinking buddies.
Now all Quinn had to do was get Santana onboard with the deal, oh and convince Miguel to give them another two pounds. Easy right?.
