Black Keys

Tagline: "A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

Summary: Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

Spoilers: None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU

Rated: Mature Audiences Only!

Pairing: Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

Author's Note: My beta is currently away in France doing a nanny job so all mistakes are my own. I tried to edit it on my own but I know that four eyes are better than two, so I apologize in advance for them. But, I did update rather quickly this time so you should be proud! :) And it is a story changer of a chapter so please enjoy!


Chapter Six: I Was Enchanted To Meet You

A proverb once said: "Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is laziness. But to keep going when the going is hard and slow - that is patience." However, patience is something that most individuals find themselves lacking during trying times; during crises or arguments or working on frustrating projects. Most people find themselves with a lack of patience after a very long, trying and testing day; a day where every one who is seemingly alive is annoying just because they are breathing the same air.

Rachel Berry has always been the keeper of patience; she has always been the one to keep her temper in check and keep her emotions bottled inside during hard times. She has always been the one who kept coming back to the things that she wanted, who waited because good things came to those who wait. After all, Rachel Berry had been the one who waited for days to be one of the firsts to buy tickets for Wicked Across America.

Yet, today is not the day that Rachel is either patient or humble. Today is lasting forever, the classes are seemingly longer and more boring than usual; even Music History, an elective that she more than enjoys on normal days, is one that annoys her with its untimely length today. She almost swears that the instructor had even been talking in slower decibels today.

However, after a long and very testing day, it has finally came down to the last period of classes at McKinley High; and as the clock on the wall ticks away their childhood and innocence, the students are growing restless at their desks. Especially Rachel. She sits at her desk nearest to the wall, tapping her pen rapidly against the blank sheet of notebook paper opened in front of her. She squints her brow against the beaming sunlight that cascades through the dingy window beside of her, trying desperately to count how many minutes and seconds she will remain in her English course. Thirteen minutes. Seven hundred eighty seconds. Seven hundred eight seconds until the school day is officially over and rehearsals for duet challenge week begins. A rehearsal with Quinn. A duet with Quinn.

Quinn... she is not like every one else, Rachel nods quietly to herself deep in her own thoughts. She is not like Mr. Schue who tried to be their friend and she is not like the other teachers who force their way through their subjects almost dread-like because they have to and are cynical because it infers with their personal life. She is not like Sue who runs her cheer leading squad the same way that Hitler ran the Jews and she is not like Ken Tanka who runs the football team like an oversized burn out of an uncle. She is professional, mysterious, strong, solemn, and very beautiful. Very, very beautiful.

Perhaps, Quinn Fabray is the missing key to her destiny. The missing key to her stardom on Broadway, the missing key to finding out who she truly is. Perhaps she is not the hard headed, diva fit of a Lima Loser that people perceive her as, perhaps she is not just some musical replacement for Mr. Schuester who demands that things go her way or no way at all, perhaps she is not the cold hearted bitch that Santana and Puck are all convinced that she is. Perhaps she is more. So much more than any of them will ever be able to comprehend.

Quinn Fabray is more than ordinary and beyond extraordinary.

"Now that we have finished this novel, I am going to do something for you that I don't normally do for my classes. Instead of giving you an exam like I do every year when my students finishing reading, I am going to allow you to write a paper. It must be in MLA format with the proper citations and footnotes where allowed. In this paper, I expect to find your meaning to the plot of this novel, the various conflicts found through out the chapters, to see pivotal characters and their portrayal and how they further the action in the novel, the true meaning behind the story. But most of all, I expect to see your paper on my desk next Thursday, a five page minimum and no font larger than Arial 12!" Mrs. Lorraine states, writing the dead line on her dry erase board that hangs just behind her desk. The tall woman flips her blazing red hair over her shoulder as her eyes scan over the group of teenagers who scribble the important details in their notebooks and binders. Her eyes slant behind her glasses as she licks her dry lips, a playful grin playing at her lips.

"And because I am just so gracious to all of you, I am allowing you to work in groups. Or you can choose to work by yourself. Whichever method is easiest for you. But if you choose to work in partners, do not think that there will be just one paper and I will accept it with both of your names on it because I will not. I do expect papers from both partners with very little similarity! This is sixty percent of your final grade so I will be reading this with a fine tooth comb. I suggest you do your best, and if you do not know about the novel, then I suggest it is time you learn." Mrs. Lorraine exclaims, pulling out her chair as she takes a seat behind her desk, gathering the stack of papers within her hands once more. Rachel immediately begins to plot and diagram the three main points of her paper, listing both major and minor characters of the story and their relation with one another. Her concentration is one that cannot be broken, not even by the shifting of the table as someone takes a seat next to her.

"Hi Rachel," Finn smiles at the brunette, dropping his backpack onto the floor. Her eyes flicker up from the lined paper as she glances at him, giving him an once over. If there is one thing that she must say about the star quarter back of the football team, it is that he is certainly persistent. His ability to never give up is one that would usually sway the musical beauty, but lately, it has done nothing but annoy her.

"Hello, Finn. How are you?" asks Rachel, making polite conversation as she returns her attention back to the pre-writing diagram she has assembled on the paper in front of her. The boy beams in a radiant smile as he pulls the red notebook from his large backpack, along with the novel, which is seemingly shredded at the edges due to damages. As he arranges his work station on the desk beside of her, his wandering deep eyes find their way to Rachel and his heart almost soars; he cannot remember the exact moment he fell in love with Rachel Berry, but he knows that eventually, someday, she will be in love with him too.

"I am great. This assignment is killer. Especially since we have a game on Friday. We play against the Hawks. They have beat us every year, no matter if it is a home or away game. Coach thinks that this year is the year that we can beat them, with me running quarter back, of course," Finn beams proudly, but he receives no response or even a look of interest from the concentrated girl next to him, "Will I see you there? You might be my good luck charm." She looks up from her paper and finds him smiling his infamous dimpling grin at her, with a soft bat of his long eyelashes; no wonder girls are all smitten with him.

"Did you know that luck entered the English language as a gambling term? Personally, I do not think that luck exists. I think that it is just some excuse that people create for themselves. It is all a figment of their mind. I think if anything, luck is a self fulling prophecy. You do not need me to be your good luck charm, you just need to believe in yourself. People who believe in good luck are more likely to be successful, you know? Because they are more optimistic and more satisfied with themselves and their lives. Another person cannot influence luck but only the person their selves can," Rachel states, shifting her weight uncomfortably as she scribbles in her notebook and Finn sighs, slumping his shoulders slightly.

"Right. But it would mean a lot to me if you came," He nudges her softly and she sighs in frustration.

"Finn, this paper is due next Thursday and it is sixty percent of our final grade. That means that there is no room to make an error in this paper. All the citations have to be correct, the points must be excellent and grammar must be astounding. I do not have the time to sit on some rusty and unstable bleachers and watch boys run around and knock each other down after a rubber ball. It is silly and barbaric," Rachel dismisses, shaking her head slightly, continuously working on the diagram before her. The football player groans in annoyance, grabbing his pen from his pocket in attempts to write something but he stops.

"Would you like to work together on this? I don't really understand it," Finn states in a hopeful breath, his eyes glancing over at the brunette. Rachel stops writing, sitting her pen down as she looks at the boy, biting her bottom lip carefully.

"What is not to understand, Finn? Les Miserables is one of the oldest and most amazing novels in Literary existence. It was published in 1862 in France, written by Victor Hugo. A little known fact about Hugo, he also wrote Norte-Dame de Paris which translates into The Hunchback of Norte-Dame. He was born in 1802 and he is mostly known for his Romanticism in the Literary Movement," Rachel begins and Finn nods with a soft smile.

"Yeah, I got all of that from the pamphlet Mrs. Lorraine gave us. What I meant was, I am not so sure that I understand the book. There's just too much," Finn explains and Rachel nods quaintly to herself; she is not sure if he does not understand it, or if this is simply a plot to spend more time with her. If it is, it is working, even if she does not want it to.

"I agree this novel is far too lengthy. Three hundred and sixty five chapters is too much for any one to comprehend during one period of time. Luckily, my dads took me to see the show on Broadway, so it allows me to better understand the material. The main thread of this story is about ex convict Jean Valjean. I know, so creative, right? Anyways, he is sent out to be a force of good in the world but he cannot escape his dark past. During his road to redemption, he examines the law of nature and grace, learns about the history of France, religion, philosophy, justice, the architecture of Paris and all types of love. It is split into five volumes. Fatine, Cosette, Marius, St. Denis and Jean Valjean." Rachel explains, and suddenly the bell rings. Like dogs to a trained whistle, the students quickly stand, grabbing their materials as they race home for the day. Rachel stands in the same matter, closing her notebook and preparing to leave before a hand wraps around her wrist.

"Could you explain the major and minor characters to me?" asks Finn, his eyes wide with hope and Rachel laughs slightly to herself, placing the notebook within her bag as she shuts it.

"I'm sorry. I would like to but I have other plans. I have an appointment that I really cannot be late to," The brunette excuses, pulling her hand away from the quarter back as she places the bag on her shoulder. Finn quickly stands, placing himself in front of her with a long bat of his eyelashes; that trick is starting to get a little old, Rachel groans inwardly. She wonders if he will ever realize that she is not like the others.

"It won't take longer than a few minutes. I really need you. Please," The football player pleads and Rachel sighs, running her fingers through her brunette hair. He looks at her sadly, his bottom lip protruding only slightly as he shrugs, "but if you gotta go, you gotta go. I'll understand." He sighs sadly, kicking absently at a speck of dirt that just misses her eyes. She sighs in annoyance with a soft roll of her eyes.

A few more minutes couldn't hurt, right?


Little did she know, those few more minutes turned into another half hour of sitting there, explaining the character and their motives and other menial but significant details that he managed to miss throughout the novel. As she bid him a chaste farewell, she cursed slightly to herself. Now, Rachel Berry is not the one to curse, after all, she is quite the lady, but given the day she has had, she is sure that most people would not only just be cursing at the wind because of it.

She is in such a hurry, she does not even make the attempt to stop at her locker and empty the needed essentials out of her locker and into her bag. Instead, she forgets about the exam she has tomorrow in foreign language and races to the music room as quickly as her tiny feet will carry her. She is late and she is a stickler for punctuality; professionals are punctual, those who are not do not achieve the same success. And now she is late because of a boy. A boy that she does not even necessarily like or even want to be romantically involved with.

Quickly, she pushes open the door to the music room in another mumbling curse and instantly her eyes find Ms. Fabray, who sits idly on the piano bench, her fingers softly pressing a few keys to create a soft melody. She does not know why but she is surprised to see that she has waited; that she has waited for her. She sighs a breath of relief, shuffling herself inside of the room and once Quinn's eyes land upon her, the music ceases. There is no sound but the rattling of the rustic air conditioner located somewhere behind the tiles above them. It is a silence that is eerie and haunting, a silence that allows Rachel to know that nothing good can follow it.

Instead of saying anything, however, Quinn merely watches the girl as she shuffles to her seat, dropping her bag into the plastic and non cushioned chair. She is fumbling with something that the blond can only assume to be her shirt before she turns around, a careful rake of her nails through her brunette hair. Quinn slants her eyes in annoyance before she clears her throat, pressing a key that echoes through the silenced room.

"Do you know what being late makes people perceive you as? Someone who does not care. If you are late, then you do not care about the event or the person to show up on time, you are not interested. Do you know what would happen if you were ever late to an audition? They would not even take the time to see you because you were not there on the time you were scheduled to, they would think that you are some diva who is not interested in anything but making an appearance and having all the attention on her. Do you know what happens when you are late to a show on Broadway? They find someone else who can sing your part, it does not matter what time you show up once you are late, or what excuse you may have because you are instantly cut. Just like that. No warning, no anything. Clearly, you had something else to do that was more important than rehearsal, even though you practically begged me to sing with you and do you know how that makes you look? Like a diva," Quinn exclaims, dropping her shoulder slightly, "and maybe you are."

"No," Rachel speaks up in a hushed whisper. Upon hearing the blond's accusation of her, it feels as if a knife has been stuck into her chest and twisted back and forth, creating the stabbing, sharp pain time and time again. After all their conversations, after everything they have been through, how could she think so little of her.

"It is not like that. We ere assigned to do a paper over Les Miserables in English today and Finn... he... he didn't understand so he asked me to help him and..."

"Oh, so you blew me off to tutor your boyfriend? Wow. You know what, Berry, I thought you were different. I thought you were different than all the boy crazed teenagers in this place because I thought you had determination and you had passion for what you do. You know what you want and you don't let anything stand in your way. But the first time that Finn Hudson bats his freakishly long eyelashes at you, you forget all about your responsibilities. If you cared more about being with your boyfriend than rehearsing with me, then go. Because I am not interested in helping someone who blows me off at the first boy who looks her way," Quinn snaps, standing from the pew as she grabs the music sheets in her hand and Rachel shakes her head, taking a hard step forward as she locks her jaw tightly.

"You know that is not it. Finn... Finn has liked me forever. Literally, I do not remember one point in our high school existence when he was not trying to prove to me that he is the one for me. And I know that I should like him, I know that I should. Because he is tall and handsome and sweet and perfect. Except I... I don't. And maybe I am foolish and naïve and maybe he really is the one for me. But I don't have my mind on silly little high school flings right now. I have my mind set on New York. On Broadway. On you. And that is what I want," Rachel exclaims, her eyes locking hard with Quinn's and she takes another powerful step forward.

"I am sorry that I kept you waiting. I am. Normally I am very punctual and I am always on time or early for my appointments. I know that it is very important to make a positive appearance and prove to others that I am willing to be there whenever they need or call for me, even if that is hours before hand. I was simply trying to be a good Samaritan, trying to be a good friend. But I promise, it will not happen again."

"Not even if there is a kitten in a tree who needs saving or if Barbra Streisand is being bullied by Sue Sylvester?" Quinn offers with a slight raise of her eyebrow and the tiniest of a playful laugh. Rachel shrugs her shoulders with a shake of her head, fighting the smile that tries to play upon her lips.

"No. Appearances are important. Besides, that is what fireman and her body guard are for," Rachel replies with a gesture of her body, "Also, I am not the best skilled to climb a tree or tackle down Sue Sylvester. At least, not in this outfit." To this, Quinn giggles a soft laugh with a nod of her head, shifting her weight awkwardly to lean back against the piano, studying the brunette's face.

"I am not doing this to be difficult, you know? I am not doing this to be mean or unreasonable. In fact, I think it is really amazing that you are such a good friend, especially the fact that you are friends with the boy who is very in love with you. But not everybody is going to care about your excuses. Not every one is going to be as understanding as I am. If you are late, then you are late. If you are late, then you have better things to do than your job or what is asked of you. People are not patient, but I, however, am not one to condemn you for being human," states Quinn with a shake of her head, the warm smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Rachel lets out a brief sigh of relief, absently wiping her sweaty palms onto her outfit.

"Does that mean that we can still rehearse?" Rachel asks, bashfully dropping her head and Quinn slants her eyes in playful thought, tapping her fingers against the piano. Despite anything and everything, despite the various amounts of miles and space she tries to put between herself and the brunette diva, there is always something that just keeps pulling her back; some unexplainable force that radiates her to the core.

"What happened to the very forward Berry I saw yesterday? The one who held her head up high and told me that I belonged here and that she was my friend? Now you are reverted back to this shy, timid little student who looks like she is afraid I will bite her head off," Quinn jokes, looking up at the girl, "you don't have to worry, Berry. I am a vegetarian. I will not bite your head off. Besides, I do not think that would be very professional of me to go all Hannibal on my student." The blond aimlessly rambles as she searches for the extra copy of the sheet music, lost somewhere in the folder. Rachel studies her backside, biting her bottom lip absently. There are so many missing pieces to the beautiful puzzle of Quinn Fabray and she wishes, oh, how she wishes, she could figure them all out.

"Why do you do it?" mumbles Rachel and Quinn turns around to her, her golden brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Do what?"

"You never let anyone in. You have this constant wall up and I can't really figure it out. Most teachers here... they are either your worst enemy or they try to be your best friend. But you... you keep this constant guard up all the time. I have seen you let it down with me a few times and you have such a beautiful personality. People here would... they would be nicer to you if you were not always so strictly professional all the time. Noah and Santana... I am sure they would give you a break if you opened up a little. But you are always on guard, from us and from the world. And I just want to know, why? What could have happened that was so bad that you shut yourself off from the rest of the world?" Rachel intrigues and for a moment, Quinn is left breathless. The tears burn in the corner of her eyes as the snowball sized lump rises in her throat; quickly, she turns around to hide the vulnerability from the younger girl, clearing her throat.

"I suppose the same reason that you do not know how to mind your own business. I am your teacher, Berry. I am not here to be your older sister or your best bud," for this, she uses air quotations with a forced laugh, "I am not here to hold your hand or dry your tears or go on shopping sprees with you. I am here to prepare you for the world and the truth is, the world is not always going to be your best friend. Not everybody is going to like you and want to sit up all night eating Coco Puffs and watch every romantic comedy with Freddie Prince Jr in them."

"Who?" echoes Rachel in a questioning tone and Quinn groans.

"Never mind. Are we going to rehearse or not?" The blond sighs, flicking the papers forward and Rachel nods her head apologetically, taking the various music sheets within her hands. Quinn wastes no time, as quick as the papers are handed off, she is already sitting down at the piano bench and placing the sheet music in front of her. She is prepared to play, that is, however, not without another insert of thought from the brunette who is absently shifting her weight.

"Really? This song? Not that I have anything against this song because these lyrics really do seem to be beautiful and tell a story of this epic love and a fairy tale and all the stuff that every girl dreams about. But, this artist is so... I don't know. I am very open to expressing feelings in a song, after all that is where artists get their inspiration from, right? Their lives. But all she chooses to sing about is boys that either break her heart or are her Prince Charming for the week. I don't think that is exactly the image we want to give ourselves, is it?" Rachel quips and Quinn forces a hard laugh, raking her nails through her golden mane as she glares up at her.

"Perhaps not. But this song is. Maybe if you actually read them instead of passing judgment on them, you would understand why I chose this song for us. Just listen to the lyrics, Berry, instead of just singing them," Quinn instructs and the brunette sighs in annoyance with a complacent nod of her head, leaning against the piano.

As soon as the hushed silence once again falls over the musical room, Quinn's long and slender fingers begin to move over the white ivory keys. As the familiar rhythm echoes in her ears, she softly begins to sway slightly back and forth, gnawing absently on her bottom lip as she desperately tries to fight away the nerves.

"There I was again tonight, forcing laughter, faking smiles. Same old tired, lonely place. Walls of insecurity, shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face," Quinn sings softly, looking up at Rachel from the keys that move beneath her fingers, "all I can say is I was enchanted to meet you."

"Your eyes whispered "have we met", across the room your silhouette starts to make its way to me. Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy," Rachel sings, clinching the sheets of paper in her hands as she looks at Quinn, "All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you." Then the chorus kicks in with loud and quick jams of the piano keys and suddenly, they cannot take their eyes off each other.

"This night is sparkling, don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I'll spend forever, wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you," The girls sing in unison and Rachel is suddenly beaming a bright grin as she inches closer to the golden blond, who licks her dry lips as the music softly begins to lull.

"The lingering question kept me up, 2am who do you love? I wonder till I am wide awake," sings Quinn.

"And now I am pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door. I'd open it up and you would say it was enchanting to meet you. All I know is it was enchanting to meet you," Rachel smiles, moving her body with the music, instead of against it; unable to divert her attention to anything except for the gorgeous blond in the room and suddenly, she just cannot stop smiling.

"This night is sparkling, don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I'll spend forever, wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you," They both harmonize together, allowing the music to move through their pulsing blood stream. Suddenly, the bridge catches them both off guard as Quinn jumps to her feet, kicking the piano bench away as her fingers move like clock work against the keys, her eyes not even bothering to venture downward.

"This is me praying that this is the very first page, not where the storyline ends. My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. These are the words I held back as I was leaving too soon. I was enchanted to meet you," Quinn sings loudly with a soft shake of her head, her body swaying with the quickening pace of the song.

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you," whispers Rachel in a lyrical melody.

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you. This night is sparkling don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I'll spend forever wondering if you knew," The blond serenades, moving closer to Rachel, who herself, is erasing the space between the two of them; their eyes intensely locked together like a force that is unable to be moved.

"This night is flawless, don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I'll spend forever, wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you," Rachel sings, erasing the distance between their two bodies with a twirling dance. The pace of the song begins to slow and fade away as Quinn carefully presses against the ivory keys, a soft smile upon her lips.

"Please don't be in love with someone else," She whispers, inching closer to Rachel.

"Please don't have somebody waiting on you," whispers Rachel, closing the space until, finally, there is none at all. As the song reaches its coda and begins to fade away, the only sound that is left in the acoustic filled room is the sound of the two trying to catch their laboring breath. A pair of hazel eyes stare into the most beautiful shade of chocolate brown as she licks her dry lips; her hand ventures forward, carefully caressing a strand of the hair away from her face.

"Berry," Quinn whispers. Suddenly, there is like a tether between the two of them, like a million strings pulling them closer together, a gravitational pull that neither of the girls are strong enough to fight. As their faces move closer together, Rachel's breath halts as her chest begins to expand, inhaling the scent of the woman before her.

"Ms. Fabray," Rachel mumbles and Quinn nods her head quietly.

"W-we shouldn't. I mean, it would be completely unprofessional of me. You are my student. There is a line and I can't... I can't..." Quinn whispers, except no matter how badly she wants to, she is simply unable to fight against the pull. In another beat of silence, Quinn's hands cup Rachel's face as the two melt into a kiss. The brunette smiles into her lips, opening her mouth slightly as her hands explore Quinn's back; their bodies and lips moving together in a rhythmic harmony all of their own, blissfully unaware of their surroundings. Suddenly, it is like a passionate fire catches inside the pit of their stomachs, racing through their veins as they deepen their lustful kiss.

There is a very thin line between getting what you want and what you need and Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray just crossed it.


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