A/N: Here's the next chapter; didn't want to leave you all hanging. This one is named after 'Come On Mess Me Up' by Cub Sport. Hope you enjoy.
Come On Mess Me Up
She knew it was wrong to be enjoying the feel of Rachel in her arms like this when the girl was too drunk to even realise what was going on and almost hypothermic, but she couldn't help but think this was the only chance she'd ever get to have a soft moment with the other girl.
Morals and normalcy were out the window tonight anyway – she'd just almost started a brawl with one of her Cheerios over Rachel in front of everyone and she didn't even care.
Reaching the top of the stairs, she headed straight towards the bedroom she knew all too well for all the wrong reasons.
"GET OUT!"
The two losers making out on Puck's bed quickly scampered, too afraid and drunk to double take at the sight of Rachel Berry being carried bridal-style in Quinn Fabray's arms.
Rachel, still mumbling incoherently and crying, was so far gone that the sentences she was trying to get out barely made it past their first syllables. Quinn could do nothing but whisper reassurances – she was pretty sure that if the girl was conscious enough to know what was going on, she probably wouldn't be that happy about Quinn being the one looking after her. Not that she could blame the girl.
Santana and Brittany came bursting through the bedroom door at just the right time.
"What can we do?"
Enemies or friends, she and Santana could always cut the bullshit and do what needed to be done.
"Reach into my back pocket and get my car keys. It's parked down the road. In the trunk I've got some gym clothes and my letterman – get them."
"Got it." After reaching into her pocket and getting her keys, Santana rushed out the door.
"I'll help, Q," Brittany said softly.
"W-Where am I?" the girl chattered out, sounding like what her mom used to sound like after 'bridge night'. Quinn's heart clenched.
"Hey Rach, it's Brittany. You had an accident but it's okay because we're going to get you warm and home."
The tiny brunette simply grunted sniffled and fell back into unconsciousness. Quinn thanked Brittany silently: they both knew it would be better for Rachel to hear Brittany's voice and not Quinn's, but neither of them wanted to acknowledge that aloud.
"We need to get her out of these clothes," she mumbled, placing Rachel carefully on Puck's bed – she really didn't give a shit if it would stain his shitty mattress.
"I'll do it."
It would be better for a myriad of reasons that Brittany did that job – another thing both of them knew but chose not to discuss. She had a feeling Brittany had known for a while.
"I'll go and get a towel."
She knew Rachel would be in safe hands with Brittany, so once she'd crossed the hall and into Puck's bathroom she took a second to compose herself. No matter how badly she wanted to punch Nadia's face in right now, she knew this only happened because she'd drawn a target on Rachel's back – a target she'd never stopped highlighting for years.
It didn't even make sense that she'd reacted like she had: she was way worse to Berry on a daily basis anyway and she didn't even have being drunk as an excuse because she'd been sober all fucking night!
All she knew was that as soon as she saw Berry come in from the garden – drunk, crying and about to get hit by an ice-cold drink – she just went into autopilot.
Maybe it had a little to do with Quinn not liking anyone else treating Berry like shit, but that was a can of worms she wouldn't even want to open with a therapist.
No one else seemed willing to help the girl anyway and if she could get drunk, taken advantage of and pregnant last year in the company of one high school perv, then who knew what the hell would happen to Berry in a house full of them!
Every time she pictured Nadia's stupid fucking face she wanted to punch it until even her own parents wouldn't recognise her.
Now wasn't the time to think about any of that, though. She was a heartless, selfish bitch and even she knew that what just happened to Berry was wrong on so many levels. Fluffy blue towel in hand, she rushed back into Puck's room.
"How is she?" She handed the towel to Brittany and kept her eyes fixated on her shoes.
"She keeps mumbling something about an evil cup. You should change too, Quinn – you've got loads of gross icy stuff on you."
That wasn't really the answer she'd wanted, but it was helpful. "She must have played a drinking game," she said quietly, keeping her eyes anywhere but an unclothed Rachel. Yeah…her outfit was definitely ruined, but she could deal with that later.
"We played ring of fire," Santana hurried back into the room and threw the clothes onto the bed beside Rachel. "Shit, man, I didn't think. Berry seemed fine and happy and I thought it was funny as shit and she picked the last King card so she –
"It doesn't matter," Quinn interrupted, not wanting to deal with Santana's guilt right now. "This was, what, a half hour ago? It's probably all only just hitting her."
"Yeah, at the exact same time that bitch hit her in the face with a cup of whatever the fuck that shit was."
"C-Cold."
They all looked back to Rachel, who'd stirred back into consciousness. She was currently slumped next to Brittany at the edge of Puck's bed with the towel wrapped around her. Quinn felt a twinge of relief when she saw that the girl was at least talking again and shivering a little less.
"I've got some clothes for you, Rachel," she said as softly as she could, almost as if she didn't want the girl to recognise who was talking to her. Maybe she didn't – she was probably way more of a villain in the brunette's eyes than Nadia or some other nameless Cheerio was.
The soaked-through brunette hiccupped and snorted. "S-Sounds like Quinn but c-can't be Quinn! Just called me R-Rachel!"
Santana snorted, Brittany quietly shushed her and Quinn's stomach twisted.
"Hate to break it to you Berry, but it is Quinn – guess you should be grateful that she's so obsessed with you though, since she just saved your ass from some basic as hell Cheerio you sassed earlier."
Fucking Santana!
Rachel just scoffed, hiccupped again and then whimpered pathetically. "N-Nicole."
Santana cackled at that and pushed Berry – now dressed in Quinn's clothes, thanks to Brittany – lightly on the shoulder. Quinn didn't really get why but she didn't care right now: for the first time since Brittany had stripped Berry of her alcohol-stained and ice-covered clothes, she allowed herself to study the girl.
She was now wearing Quinn's far-too-big McKinley High gym t-shirt and way-too-baggy sweats and was curled up on Puck's bed in a foetal position. It looked really fucking cute.
Santana snapped her out of her Berry-induced trance. "Well it looks like you've got this covered, Q."
Wait, what?! What the hell did that bitch think she was doing pulling Brittany towards the door!
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" she hissed, every ounce of gratitude she had for Santana seeping out of her as the Latina's innocent smile turned into a scheming smirk.
"You were the one to rush to Berry's defence like some White Knight or some shit – we're going back to the party. Gotta make sure those bitches downstairs are back in line anyway."
"That's bullshit and you know it!" she screeched, looking to Brittany desperately. "You two are just going to go to a guest room and have sex!"
The taller blonde giggled and took Santana's hand. "San, we should totally go and do that."
Quinn could practically feel the soil falling over her head.
"You two know fine well that you'd be better to deal with this than me," she gritted out, glancing back at a sleeping Berry in panic.
"Nu-uh, Q," Santana grinned, shaking her finger. "We've both been drinking and have no car with us; you're stone-cold sober and have your cute little mini parked just up the road."
She was going to rip that stupid smug finger right off! How could two people be so helpful and then so conniving in the space of ten freaking minutes!
"You can't leave me here with her!" she half-whispered, half-pleaded.
"Don't look so freaked, Fabgay – now's your moment." Santana casually threw her car keys back to her and Quinn barely caught them.
With that, the two girls – pinkies entwined – left the room giggling.
"Sorry, Q," Brittany threw over her shoulder, the bedroom door shutting behind them and effectively shutting her in with Berry.
Oh, they would be sorry!
"Crap," she whispered to herself.
Quinn had been silently freaking out for at least 120 minutes and Berry had been snoring softly for precisely 118 of those.
The party was still raging on downstairs; horny douche-bag couples were knocking impatiently on Puck's locked bedroom door every five minutes; Berry was still in the land of dreams about Broadway and big bad cheerleaders or whatever and Quinn was still wondering how the hell she'd got herself here.
How the hell did 'avoid being too close to Berry' turn into starting a fight with another Cheerio to defend the girl in front of literally everyone, carrying her through to safety bridal-style and then wrapping her letterman around the girl while she was sleeping. (Yeah, she'd also done that around an hour ago because the girl was starting to look a little cold).
Now she was just sat on Puck's bed – of all the places in the freaking world! – anxiously watching a sleeping Berry and having no idea what to do.
Leaving the girl wasn't an option: there might still be unfriendly Cheerios lurking around downstairs, something had obviously upset the girl before the whole Nadia thing, and whenever Berry woke up (which was looking like never!) she would probably feel like shit. And so she damn well should for getting so drunk and making this become Quinn's Friday night!
She even had to raid Puck's closet for some dry clothes of her own since she'd given all hers to Berry, and it took a small eternity to find something in there that wasn't totally disgusting.
Earlier she'd tried looking for Berry's phone with the hope of calling the girl's dads but it was nowhere obvious to be found, and there was no way in hell she was feeling the girl up to find it while she slept! She felt like enough of a perv as it was just watching the girl sleeping for two freaking hours.
It took at least another twenty minutes before Berry woke up. Maybe 'woke up' wasn't the right word, though, since the girl shot up like a rocket and ran straight towards the bathroom without so much as looking at Quinn.
Quinn narrowed her eyes – how the hell did Berry know where to find Puck's bathroom?
"Are you okay, Berry?" she asked casually, following the girl into the bathroom and shutting the door behind them. She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible: she wasn't sure how drunk Berry still was and she didn't want to sound too concerned but she also didn't want to sound like she was about to dump a slushie on the girl while she was down. Literally.
The answer to her question was pretty obvious: the girl in question was currently puking her guts up into Puck's toilet.
"Q-Quinn?" the girl groaned, unable to remove her head from the toilet bowl.
"Yeah. Sorry."
Rachel slumped even further and ran a hand through her hair, "Oh, Barbra."
Quinn didn't really know what to say since she could hardly say something mean right now, so she just stood in the corner silently and watched as the girl carried on throwing up. It must have only been a few seconds before she got restless and walked over to her.
"I'm gonna hold your hair back," she mumbled, then gently gathered the (slightly wet and gross) brunette locks into a ponytail and held it up in her hands.
Rachel hiccupped a thank you and carried on being sick, sometimes throwing in an 'oh, God' in there. Quinn was pretty sure God wasn't interested in helping either of them right now.
When it seemed like Berry was finally done, she stopped massaging the girl's hair (when the hell did she start doing that?!) and took a couple steps back.
"How do you feel?"
"I have no idea what's going on," the girl slurred, slumping against the bathroom tiles. Great, she was still drunk.
"You drank a bit too much." She withheld all the other details – Berry didn't really look in a fit state to handle them right now.
Hiccup. "H-How?"
Seriously? "I don't know, because you're like three foot two and drank half of Puckerman's liquor cabinet," she deadpanned, trying to keep some normalcy to this situation by not sounding like a complete sap.
"W-Why are you here?"
Quinn was about to snap when she realised the question came from a place of self-consciousness and embarrassment, not rudeness.
She could practically feel her heart melting all over again! "You got into a bit of trouble downstairs and…and I helped you out," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
That caused Rachel's eyes to shoot from the floor and look into her own. Shit!
"Y-You did? Wait, what happened? Oh Barbra, I don't feel," – hiccough – "good. Eyes spinning."
Studying the girl in front of her, she thought for a moment. What did it matter? The whole school would be talking about it by Monday; Berry would find out anyway. Sighing, she sat down and leant her back against the wall opposite Berry.
"Something outside had upset you a-
Okay, why the hell was the girl crying again?! She'd barely even said anything!
"I – don't – have – any – f-friends!" the girl choked out in between sobs, throwing her head into her hands.
They both jumped when they heard a banging on the door. "Hey, get the hell out I need to use the bathroom!"
Irritated because it had made her jump and stressed because she had no idea what to say to Rachel she barked, "FUCK OFF!"
"Who the hell are you?!"
For the first time in what felt like years, Quinn smirked. "Quinn fucking Fabray, so find somewhere else to pee before I come out there and kick you down the stairs!"
Her voice had sounded shriller that she'd have liked but it did the job: whatever asshole was pounding at the door had wisely taken her advice.
She almost wished he hadn't when she remembered that meant dealing with a still sobbing and drunk Rachel.
"You have the Glee Club," she offered weakly. She was hardly the best person to reassure a girl crying about having no friends when she'd been the one telling her for years that she had none!
"They b-barely – tolerate – m-me," she sobbed, then threw her arms out dramatically, "and now Finn h-hates me too!"
Finn. She should've known that moron had something to do with it! She could barely believe she'd actually spent months trying to convince that oaf that he was the father of her child, but she was blaming that amongst many other things on baby hormones making her crazy.
"Finn's an idiot - whatever he said he'll probably come crawling back with some half-assed apology tomorrow." Not that she wanted him to! Puck and Finn and all those other gorillas out there could stay the hell away from Rachel as far as she was concerned.
The tiny brunette barely heard her and carried on crying into her hands. Quinn supposed this put Berry firmly in the 'happy to sad drunk in a matter of minutes' category.
There was nothing else for it. Berry was crying in a way that made Quinn's chest clench and she couldn't help it: not hesitating any longer, she shuffled across the bathroom floor, stopped next to the baggy-clothed mess that was Rachel and pulled the girl into her arms.
She'd already crossed enough lines tonight so screw it. No one could see them anyway and Berry probably wouldn't remember.
They'd been like this for a good ten minutes: Berry was freely crying with her head resting against Quinn's chest and Quinn? She was freaking the hell out but loving every minute of their closeness at the same time.
Still, this version of freaking out wasn't stopping her from running her hand in circles along Rachel's back and circling her thumb soothingly along the back of her hand.
It's not like they were holding hands!
It just felt really nice to have the smaller girl cuddled into her like that; Quinn was only used to reluctantly being in the arms of some big, hulking boy whose body felt all hard and smelt like cheap aftershave and had arms that just made her feel trapped in, not comfortable. It felt much nicer to be the one doing the cuddling: Berry was so small and soft and smelt so fresh and sweet even after all that puking.
But none of that mattered because they were not cuddling. She was just consoling a drunk girl and that was it!
"Look, Berry," she began after things had been quiet for a while, "this won't feel so bad in the morning. You're just drunk and –
"Everything is terrible," the girl whined, pushing her head further into her chest.
Quinn chuckled – Rachel wasn't wrong there.
"D'you have your phone? I should call your dads." She didn't really want to move right now, but the longer Rachel stayed in her arms the less self-control she was retaining.
"B-Bra," she hiccupped. Quinn widened her eyes. Okay, as much as she'd like to find it for her, there was no way she could.
She was about to tell the girl to get it when Rachel gasped and started crying again. Dammit!
"I c-can't call my dads."
Quinn frowned – Berry called her dads once because the school had forgotten to stock up on her vegan lunch one day and this was way more important than that. "Um, why not?"
"I t-told them a lie!"
"What did you tell them?" Berry looked so guilt-stricken that Quinn was seriously concerned she'd told them she was going to hospital for chemotherapy or something!
"M-Mercedes. Sleepover. Said I," – hiccup - "was sleeping at her house."
Quinn laughed softly. "Jesus, Berry. They won't care – people lie to their parents all the time." She sure as hell did.
That only seemed to make Berry cry harder. Great. And for once Quinn was trying to make her stop crying!
"We have a," – hiccup – "no lying policy!"
Quinn's eyes rolled back so far she was pretty sure she saw her brain. At least the girl sounded more like herself and less like a new addition to Alcoholic's Anonymous, though.
"Berry, it really isn't that big of a –
"Yes it is!" the girl sobbed, clutching at the sleeves of the letterman jacket she seemed unaware she was even wearing. "They w-were so excited I g-got invited somewhere a-and if they see that i-instead of at a friend's h-house," – hiccup - "I went a-alone to a party a-and ended up like this then I'll look even m-more," – hiccup - "p-pathetic than I already do and they'll never let me out again!"
Quinn's stomach felt like it might drop out of her ass and she felt her own eyes sting with tears. She wrapped the girl even tighter in her arms but craned her neck away from her at the same time – in trying to reason with the girl she'd gotten uncomfortably close to brushing her lips against the girl's hair.
The last thing she needed was for it to look like she was trying to kiss Berry on the head!
"Okay, that's okay. Uh, I can, uh," she squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't believe she was about to do this! "I can drive you home and we'll sneak you in."
That seemed like a fair suggestion, so why the hell was the girl crying even louder!
"They'll wake up! Daddy is a light s-sleeper!"
Oh.
Fuck! The Berry men might be card-carrying bleeding heart liberals but there was no way she'd make it out of that house alive if they woke up to find their daughter's biggest tormentor in their house. They'd probably think she'd spiked their precious baby girl or something and she couldn't even say she'd blame them.
It was word vomit. It was word vomit and a total loss of control and the beginning of the end and she knew it – she knew it before she even said it but she said it anyway:
"I'll take you back to mine."
Rachel stopped shaking in her arms and gasped. Or maybe it was another hiccup again, Quinn couldn't really tell. "What?"
"What?"
WHAT?
"Y-You just said you'd take me back to your h-house." Rachel was looking at her like she'd just grown a second head which, to be fair, would be more plausible than what she'd just offered because…what the hell!
"You're drunk and upset and shouldn't be alone so I'll take you back to mine."
Shut up shut up shut up!
Why did her voice sound so even and confident as if this was a done-deal! Quinn took a deep breath and looked to the ceiling – or to God for some sign of what the hell to do. This was okay; it made sense. It was the best option for her sake and Berry's: Rachel wouldn't have to face her dads and…well, Quinn wouldn't have to face them either.
All of a sudden, Berry flew out of her arms and scrambled to her feet, using the sink to help her stand. Quinn already missed the feeling of the girl pressed against her chest, but now wasn't the time to focus on that.
What was she even thinking?! Never was the time to focus on that! She rushed to her feet as well just in case Berry wasn't as steady on her feet as she was trying to be.
"Why are you helping me? W-What's even going on?"
Seriously? She was asking this now?
"What am I – is this a Cheerios jacket?"
Rachel was looking herself up and down, obviously holding onto the sink for dear life and obviously freaking out. Why couldn't she just stay all silent and docile in her arms!
"Do you not remember anything?"
The answer to that seemed pretty clear already, but she seriously had no idea how she was going to explain all this to Berry. She barely knew how to explain it to herself.
"I…." Rachel squinted and pouted – it was cute but also concerning – then widened her eyes in horror. It was a little dramatic, but also a little funny. "Nicole threw a drink on me," she garbled.
Huh, that must be what that whole name thing was about. The stupid bitch wasn't memorable anyway. "Yeah, she did."
"B-But…" Rachel paused, double-took and then pointed at her theatrically, "You pushed her! D-Defended me!"
Quinn bit back the urge to lie: it would be easy enough to mislead Berry now, but at least twenty people had watched her send Nadia flying across the room and even more would be talking about it by now.
"Yeah, I did."
Rachel gaped at her, hiccoughed and stumbled slightly. Quinn was about to make sure the girl didn't fall and bash her head against the sink or something but Berry seemed to find her words again. "Why?"
Wouldn't she like to know! "That doesn't matter right now."
She took a step towards Rachel to help steady her, but Berry took a shaky step backwards and raised her hands like Quinn was about to hit her or something.
"G-Get away from," – hiccough – "me. No idea what's happening. H-Head," – hiccough – "spinning."
Ignoring her, she followed Rachel's backwards step with a forward one of her own. "I'm not going to hurt you, Berry. I'm trying to help you."
"All you e-ever," – hiccough – "do is hurt me!"
Rachel's words stung. The way the brunette was so obviously sceptical and afraid stung. It shouldn't, but it did.
"I know. But that isn't what I'm doing right now."
"G-Get away from me!" At the same time, Rachel lost her grip on the sink again and started to tumble. Quinn rushed forwards and thanked God she was used to catching girls falling from the air at a moment's notice.
She struggled with the girl for a minute, all the while trying to whisper reassurances that she wasn't going to hurt her. "I can't do that Rachel when you can barely even stand up on your own!"
"Unhand me, Quinn!"
Quinn pretty much had Berry in a bear hug now: well, if bear hugs were unreciprocated, involved restraining the recipient's arms and borderline wrestling. But Berry wasn't exactly leaving her with much of a choice!
"Look just," – she tightened her grip to try and stop Rachel's wriggling – "just stop struggling! Please! You're drunk and confused and freaking out and if I let you go right now you'll probably fall and break something," she pleaded. "I'll explain why I helped you if you just stop it!"
Rachel paused, huffed, struggled for another few seconds and then paused again.
"Berry, you're pint-sized and I'm the head cheerleader. And you're drunk. This isn't a fight you're going to win," she reasoned, biting back the slight desire to laugh at the girl's attempts to break free. "And you shouldn't even want to win it – if I let you go you'll fall on your ass!"
It took another few moments but Berry eventually stopped wriggling. This night was getting weirder by the minute: she basically had the girl in an involuntary hug! It felt weird. Weird, but also kinda nice.
Rachel had stopped freaking out for all of twenty seconds before whining, "Why are you doing this?"
Quinn bit back the urge to snap: the girl was acting like she was trying to lead her to her freaking execution instead of to safety!
The irritation twitching at Quinn disappeared altogether though when she registered the fear and distrust laced in the girl's words again. Quinn couldn't even blame her – she was drunk, confused and currently being held against her will in the arms of someone who'd spent years torturing her.
God, this was so fucked up! She was going to murder Santana and Brittany when she saw them.
"Can you please just listen to me?" Quinn didn't think she'd ever made such an effort in her post-Lucy life to sound so non-threatening.
She expected the girl to start struggling again, but instead felt the slightest of nods against her chest and heard a sniffle.
"I know I'm a bitch to you and I know that I'm the last person you'll want to be around when you're drunk and upset and confused," she began, trying to ignore the unpleasant twisting in her stomach. "Last year I was drunk and insecure and…' Quinn paused, thinking through her next words carefully, "and I got taken advantage of in this same house we're in now.
"I'm a bitch and I'm selfish but…" she trailed off again, taking a deep breath as she felt tears stinging her eyes. "But you were drunk a-and I'm pretty sure you haven't been to a party since they had bouncy castles at them and I didn't want the same thing to happen to you. You were freaking out and vulnerable and no one was helping you and it wasn't right."
Quinn sniffled quietly, hoping Rachel wouldn't hear. "Look, I promise I'm not trying to kidnap you and lock you in some dwarf prison or something," she chuckled, trying to sound like a not-so-mean version of herself and less like…well, less like she was about to cry as well.
After a few seconds, Rachel seemed to relax in her arms, hiccup and then finally speak, "I accept your," – hiccup – "offer of aid."
She rolled her eyes but chuckled involuntarily. "Thanks, Berry."
"Will you let me go now?"
"No."
Rachel huffed, hiccoughed and then huffed again. "Why not?"
"Because I don't trust you to stand up straight right now."
That wasn't strictly true – now that Berry had stopped struggling, it felt kind of nice holding her like this and Quinn wasn't quite ready to let go yet. Plus, it was funny in a cute way every time the girl huffed at her.
Another huff. "How are we to get to your car if you won't let me go?" Another hiccup. "Wait, how did we even get upstairs?"
Quinn blushed and gritted her teeth. "I carried you."
"You WHAT?"
God, why couldn't the girl ever be quiet! Why was she giggling!
"Shut up!" she hissed, her cheeks burning. "Stop laughing. Seriously."
"You – carried – me – in – front – of – all – those – people! Oh Barbra!"
God, she was so annoying! "If you don't stop laughing I'm putting you in my boot."
It took the girl a few moments but eventually she shut up. "Oh Barbra, how embarrassing."
Quinn sighed. "It wasn't your fault."
She let Rachel pull back enough for the girl to look up at her with narrowed, bloodshot eyes. "Why are you being nice to me? Have you been possessed?"
The fact the girl was still so drunk that the question she posed was sincere and not sarcastic was the only reason Quinn chuckled instead of took offence. "Probably."
"Demon Quinn," Rachel muttered under her breath.
"Demon Quinn just spent the last three hours making sure you didn't choke on your own vomit or freeze to death or get killed by some seriously pissed off Cheerios."
"No, not this Quinn. Other Quinn is demon Quinn." Did Berry seriously just roll her eyes at her?
Instead of being filled with rage, though, Quinn found herself fighting back a smile. "Yeah, well, Demon Quinn and Dwarf Berry should probably leave now. Can you stand up?"
Okay, that was a really dorky thing to say but who the hell was Berry to judge anyway?
"I resent that," the girl slurred, trying to stomp her foot but stumbling instead. Great.
"Resent away. Right, I'm gonna let you go and prop my arm under yours."
The party downstairs had calmed to a dull roar and Quinn seriously wanted to get them out of there while there were as few onlookers as possible – for her sake and Berry's.
For the first and last time ever, Quinn was actually glad she'd spent a while living at Puck's last year because it meant she knew where the back exit was.
At the back end of the Puckerman household, there was a shoe closet that also contained a side door to the house – Quinn used to use it when she'd sneak out at night to drive to the store and buy bacon because Puck's stupid mom wouldn't allow it in the house.
"Thank God," she muttered under her breath, guiding Berry down a thankfully now-empty staircase.
"What's there to be thankful for? Ow." Rachel mumbled, pouting as they headed down the stairs.
When they (finally) reached the bottom of the stairs – after a fair bit of stumbling and bickering – Quinn looked down the hall anxiously. Other than some drunk guy passed out against the wall and two people making out, the coast was clear. The party had predictably moved to the garden where Quinn guessed the remaining kegs were.
It wouldn't be that big of a deal if they were seen – it was unlikely anyone would dare question her anyway – but if she could avoid it, she would. Especially since she was about to guide Berry into a closet!
"Right," she began, stopping outside the closet door and steadying Berry by the shoulders. The girl now had a load of hair matted on her forehead, and Quinn allowed herself a small smile when the brunette blew dramatically upwards in an attempt to move it.
"There's a door that leads outside in this closet, so –
"Why can't we just go out the front door, QUINN? What are you planning?"
She was going to kill her!
"Be quiet!" she hissed, looking back down the hall to make sure Rachel hadn't attracted the attention of any partiers. "We're going the back way because it's nearer my car," she lied. What was she supposed to say? 'I don't want half the school to see you wearing my clothes and getting into my car after I just started a fight with one of my own Cheerios over you.' Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.
"I have very little confidence that you aren't about to lead me towards my untimely death." The girl paused, hiccupped and then gasped dramatically, "Or a slushie chamber!"
Quinn rolled her eyes and opened the closet door. "I preferred you when you were unconscious."
Rachel had a pout in her voice, "That's what an evil prankster would prefer if they were about to lead my into their evil lair."
At that, Quinn couldn't help but laugh. "For the millionth time, Berry, I'm just trying to help you. I literally knocked one of my Cheerios into next week for you," she added at a whisper. What else could she possibly say to convince the girl?!
"Hmph."
"Hmph?"
"Yes, hmph. Strange girl."
At least that was monosyllabic. Quinn rolled her eyes and gently pushed the drunk brunette into the closet, following closely behind in case she fell again.
Apparently Rachel wasn't done with being irritating, though, because as soon as the door fell shut behind them she giggled. "How funny; we're in a closet."
Quinn could literally feel every last semblance of sanity she had ebbing away. She gritted her teeth and willed herself to remain calm – Berry probably didn't even know the hidden meaning behind what she'd just said and was just being drunk and annoying. Not that different to how she behaved sober, really. Except alcohol apparently changed the settings on her brain-to-mouth filter from 'shockingly bad' to 'dangerously severe'!
"That isn't funny," she hissed.
"I think it is. Perhaps I should go into comedy as well as Broadway. Wait, no! I could star in humorous musicals!"
"You won't live to star in anything if you don't be quiet," she grumbled, but kept her tone relatively light so the girl wouldn't start freaking out again.
Keeping a steady hold of a now swaying Berry in one hand and scrambling for the door handle with the other, she cursed under her breath when the damn thing seemed impossible to find. "Stop swaying," she barked at Rachel, who had started humming. Ugh! If Puck's mom had filled the lock in with cement or something she was going to –
Stumble backwards and hit her back against the wall, apparently, because only a nanosecond after she heard a squeal from Berry, the girl tripped on something (probably her own damn feet) and went flying forwards into Quinn!
She had Coach Sue and her gruesome training to thank when she somehow managed to wrap her arms around Berry's back and catch the girl before she fell down Quinn's body and landed somewhere that would be seriously awkward for both of them.
"Ouch."
"Yeah, ouch."
"Thank you for catching me. Very valiant," the girl slurred with a giggle, but something in her voice had gotten lower.
"I didn't really have…much of a choice," she murmured back distractedly, realising that unlike their bathroom embrace, the tumble had meant they were basically face-to-face. Sharing breath.
Thank God Puck's mom was too cheap to put a light in here!
"You smell nice."
It sounded innocent enough – it was Berry, after all – but she could feel the blush creeping at her cheeks anyway.
"Not possible; I had to put on one of Puck's shirts," she breathed and chuckled nervously, trying to brush the comment off. Why the hell did she feel so shy!
Rachel giggled and literally burrowed her face into the crook of Quinn's neck. Then SNIFFED! "No, I mean your skin smells nice. Like a fruit smoothie on a hot summer's day when you've spent five hours helping your dads in the garden."
Oh God oh God oh God oh God. She could literally feel Berry's lips against her neck and the wetness pooling between her thighs and the worst part was she was pretty sure the girl wasn't even trying to flirt!
How the hell did the girl still smell like vanilla and flowers when she'd had a shit mix thrown all over her?!
Quinn balled her fists into the Cheerios letterman – thankfully it was huge on Rachel so the girl wouldn't notice that Quinn was literally clutching onto sanity. She didn't even know why she hadn't moved them yet; it would take her all of five seconds to lift Berry off of her and get them out of the closet but she just hadn't done it yet! She couldn't.
Wait, when did her right hand move up to start stroking Berry's hair?
"We should…we should probably go," she murmured, not moving her hand from Berry's hair or anything else. Quinn's back was still resting against the closet wall and Rachel was still resting against her with her entire body and Quinn didn't really want to change that.
"Do we have to?"
Quinn felt Rachel move from sniffing her neck and looked down to meet wide, brown orbs staring straight into her own. This was wrong. This was wrong because Rachel was drunk and probably didn't even realise how she was affecting Quinn and-
Apparently someone had managed to find the door, because it swung open and filled the closet with streetlight before Quinn could do anything stupid.
"Oh my fucking God!"
Santana was somehow both the worst and best person that could have found them like this. She was also a huge cold shower!
"This isn't what it looks like!" she hissed, pushing Rachel away and standing up straight but keeping hold of the girl's shoulders in case the suddenness made her fall again.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!
"What's going on, San?" Brittany skipped to Santana's side at the door, pecked her on the cheek and then looked at Quinn and Rachel. Then blinked.
"Looks like we'll have to find another spot because Q and Berry seem to have taken ours."
"Really? That's so cool! I wonder if they'd be up for a –
"We were not doing whatever it is you think we were doing!" Quinn blushed, stepping forwards and glaring at the two girls stood at the door. "Berry's still drunk and she fell whilst I was trying to find –
Santana guffawed. "Q, you're in a closet. Well, a literal closet as well as a meta-
"Do not finish that sentence!"
The Latina raised a brow in silent challenge and Quinn levelled it with a serious HBIC stare.
"Quinn smells really nice for such a mean person, although I suppose it only makes sense that someone so beautiful would smell nice too."
They all turned to stare at Rachel, who seemed entirely unbothered by the whole situation.
Santana was the first to speak; Quinn was still to busy blanching at Rachel. "Oh, she does, does she?"
"Berry, please just be quie-
"Calm down, QUINN!" She winced at the brunette's sudden loudness shooting straight into her ear. "Our interactions have been entirely innocent. Well, this ti-
"Shut up!" she hissed, knowing exactly where the girl was going. Quinn turned back to Santana; "I was trying to sneak Berry out the back door so we'd attract as little attention as possible." She motioned to the girl next to her with an up-and-down motion of her arm, "and now I'm taking her home." She left the detail of 'home' ambiguous, because there was no way in hell Santana was going to find out Berry was staying over at hers. "Now get out of my way."
Brittany smiled and patted Quinn on the arm. Usually she wouldn't mind because it was Brittany but right now it just filled her with icy rage. "That's super nice of you, Quinn. Santana took me home after we were first in a closet together too."
"Quinn and I could never be like you and Santana, Brittany." Rachel suddenly sounded sombre considering her inebriated state. It made Quinn's mind race and heart drop so much that she wasn't even bothered about what Brittany had said to cause it. What did Berry even mean?
She didn't have to wait long for the girl to clarify; "Quinn is claustrophobic, so this is unfortunately a one-time thing."
Quinn felt parts of her body relax that she didn't even realised she'd clenched.
Santana looked between them and obviously sensed a change in atmosphere. "I'm bored and wanna have sex," she said, stepping aside and tugging Brittany with her. "Go return your damsel or whatever, Q."
She'd never felt so grateful for Berry's brattiness as she did when the girl huffed, stormed out of the door and threw an 'I am no damsel' over her shoulder
"Good luck," Santana scoffed, but Quinn barely heard her as she jogged after Berry. It was kind of embarrassing having her two best friends watching her run after Rachel Berry, but she didn't want to be around them right now anyway.
It was going to be a long night.
Hope you enjoyed. More soon.
