Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
I.
It was the day before they were to set to play their next game, which Rachel had dubbed as her second chance, an opportunity to redeem herself not only in the eyes of Quinn, and her peers, but also to herself.
The rest of the team had gone home, having already finished with practice, but she stayed behind to get in more time out on the field. Before the woman had left, Coach Bieste had patted her on the back and gave her a look of approval, something that made her grin and bounce on the balls of her feet in happiness. The woman had began to slowly, but surely, warm up to her again after her less than fabulous performance at their first game.
After the fiasco that happened on the first game, she switched up her regimen to include more dot drills, obsessively worked on her footwork any chance she got, and spent an hour every night watching ESPN classics, a fact that absolutely horrified her fathers. To see their daughter glued to the television watching reruns of old football games as she furiously took notes in her Barbra Streisand notebook; the look of pure confusion and horror on her fathers' faces were borderline ridiculous.
"I didn't even know we could get ESPN," Hiram mumbled through his hands, shooting his husband a disturbed look.
Leroy hummed in agreement, eyes glued to the television, more specifically to the hunky quarterback currently featured on the screen. "I'm not one to complain, though." The man tilted his head thoughtfully, now ogling the heavily padded men grunting on screen.
"Fathers! Please, I'm in the middle of honing my craft," Rachel scolded, tearing her eyes away briefly from the screen. Cheers sounded from the speakers causing the tiny brunette to squeal in a pitch only dogs could hear. "Dads, did you see that! Holy Barbra, that was such a superior display of athleticism if I've ever seen one." The girl continued babbling excitedly about things that just flew over her fathers' heads.
"Good god, we've lost her."
Certain sacrifices had to be made -no matter how much it pains her to give up her nightly ritual of watching celebrity biographies for lifestyle tips- in order to achieve success.
Everything was slowly falling into place. Practices have been going particularly well, with Puck currently incarcerated the other guys on the team just left her alone most of the time; too stupid and afraid of the repercussions to mess with her without the guidance of their badass mohawked leader. David sneered and insulted her every time Coach Bieste looked away, but that was to be expected from a typical raging bully.
As she completed her sprint across to the other end of the field for the twentieth time, Rachel wiped off the beads of sweat dripping down her flushed face. Glancing over her shoulder briefly, she huffed loudly as she took in the sight of Finn stumbling his way down the grass, barely on his way to completing his tenth lap. Puffing in a deep breath, she walked over to her duffel bag for a water break.
"Oh, god!" Finn wheezed out as he collapsed pathetically on the grass beside her feet. "I think I'm having a stroke."
"Finn, I cannot stress enough how completely unnerved I am by your lack of dedication to not only fitness, but just to everything in general. Health, education, taking daily showers..." Rachel's brows furrowed in mild concern as the boy panted heavily, face the color of her favorite reindeer sweater.
"Can't hear you...blood rushing...organs shutting down...waterrrrr...need water!"
Rachel shook her head disapprovingly at the boy. "Try to roll on your side just in case you throw up. You wouldn't believe how many generation defining musicians died from asphyxiation due to choking on their own vomit." She nudges him on his side with her foot.
Finn merely let's out an unintelligible noise.
"Granny Panties! Lady! What is the meaning of this!"
Finn's eyes bulged in fear as he scrambled to pull himself up, Rachel started to cough violently as she choked on her water. Sue stormed her way towards them with her herd of short skirted cheerios, behind the demented woman, Quinn led the pack with Santana and Brittany on either side of her.
The jumpsuit clad woman squinted her eyes threateningly at the two football players. "I don't see that Sasquatch around, nor can I smell her repugnant odor wafting through the breeze." Sue exhaled loudly as she took a closer step towards Finn and Rachel. "So, I would like somebody step forward and explain to me why two of her subordinates are still on my field, filling up my air with stench of sloppy babies and debilitating failure."
Finn gulped anxiously. "Coach Sylvester, me and Rach were just-we were just-"
"And while you're in the process hauling your pathetic, gelatinous behinds off of my pristine field, escort your disturbingly erroneous fan club to the exit as well," Sue cut in, her glare deepening as she directed it in the direction of the stands.
"Fan club?" With matching baffled faces, the halfback and the quarterback looked to the bleachers. The cheerios followed suite.
Rachel went slack jawed at the sight of the girls golf team, still clad in their matching polos and khaki capri pants, as they giggled and waved at her from their seats. Jess mouthed a 'hi' at her as her teammates leered at the tiny halfback. The small brunette raised a hand up in acknowledgement and blushed brightly in mild embarrassment when the flustered girls expressions turned into lovestruck gazes.
"I'm about to vomit down your backs!" Sue screamed through her megaphone. "Remove yourselves from the premises immediately! The musk of your misguided arousal is stinking up my field!"
Santana gagged. "Oh, that's sick," she muttered with disgust dripping off her words.
Brittany crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the stands blankly. "Those girls look like they wanna eat Rachel."
"Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb, shut your pie holes!" Sue barked out as turned around to face her squad. "Where did my captain go?"
The cheerios wordlessly pointed to the direction the hazel eyed blonde stalked off to, making their coach smirk when she saw a red faced Quinn Fabray rushing her way up the stands.
"That Q, always taking initiative, that's why she's the captain of this squad. I don't see you up there, Jugs the Clown." Sue narrowed her eyes at the Latina. "Probably couldn't even get up those stairs without toppling over due to the weight of those sand bags strapped to your chest."
"My eyes are up here, Pastry Bag." Santana snarled, causing a sheepish Finn to redirect his eyes back to the bleachers.
"Dude, Quinn looks pissed." Finn whispered over to befuddled Rachel.
Rachel shook her head, responding throatily, "She looks gorgeous."
Everyone watched as Quinn stood over the cluster of girls, hands balled into tight fists resting at her hips. From their position, they couldn't see the expression on the blonde girl's face, but from the matching looks of horror and alarm on the golf team's faces, it was obvious that they were on the receiving end of a HBIC verbal lashing.
Finn nudged his teammate. "I can't believe Scary!Quinn is turning you on." He whispered to the halfback. "Sam was right, you are a weirdo."
Rachel choked loudly, catching the frightening woman's attention once more.
"I've trained her well," Sue announced cockily, triumphantly smirking at the two football players. "Now, if only she had my impeccable bone structure, it'd be like watching a young Sue Sylvester." She mused with a thoughtful look.
"Oh, cheesus, she's coming this way," Finn all but yelped as the girl of her dreams stormed her way towards them.
The halfback bit back a moan when Quinn stopped right in front of her. She was flushed, breathing heavily, and Rachel's mind was betraying her by coming up with all sorts of fantasy scenarios that could of caused the hazel eyed stunner to look that way.
"Coach, I'd like to have a word with these two for a moment." Quinn growled out lowly. "Would that be alright?"
"After inflicting copious amounts of terror into the hearts of those subbasement degenerates without needing direction, like the poor saps that make up half of this country...and some parts of Mexico... be my guess, Q. Take all the time you need." Sue gave the two football players a final sneer. "Everyone else, push ups! No stopping till your arms are literally seconds away from popping out of their sockets! Oh, you think this is hard? Try being waterboarded, that's hard!
Quinn turned sharply to the gassy faced giant and gave him a dismissive glare. "You. Go. Now."
Finn nodded immediately and dashed away, picking up both his and Rachel's things on his way. "I'll wait for you in my truck. Uh, good luck!"
Rachel ducked her head, and nervously fiddled with a loose thread on her 'Wicked' on Broadway shirt. "Quinn, I would like to offer you my deepest apologies for being an obstacle to you and your team's cheerleading practice," she stated, looking up sincerely into the other girl's stormy eyes. "We didn't mean to over stay our welcome, we just lost track of time and-"
"I don't care about that, Rachel." Quinn crossed her arms over her infamous red and white uniform. "Tell me, do those girls always come to watch you practice?"
"What? I...No...at least, I don't think so."
"You don't think so?"
The football player frowned in thought. "I know that some girls would often come and watch their significant others during practices, but no ones ever come to watch me-"
Quinn scoffed. "Well, clearly those girls were here for you. They play golf, Rachel!" The blonde gave her a pointed glare. "You know what everyone says about McKinley's girls golf team."
"Not all stereotypes are founded on some convoluted truth, I'm sure they were just-"
"Checking you out?"
Rachel faltered at the blonde's sharp tone. "I-I don't know if that's what they were doing. I didn't even know they were here till Coach Sylvester pointed them out." Rachel felt her cheeks heat up. "Jess did mention that some of the girls on her team thought I was cute," she mumbled shyly.
"Is Jess also the girl that was talking to you at the coffee shop?" Quinn practically spat out. "What else she say, Rachel?"
"She didn't really say much, but she did ask for my number."
Quinn's shoulder sagged as she visibly deflated. "Did you- did you give it to her?" she whispered.
Rachel shook her head. "Of course not, Quinn. She asked for it due to the request of some her friends that asked her if she could get it for them. Believe me, the last thing I want is a coalition of girls I'm unfamiliar with text messaging me during my nightly hygienic routines, or disturbing me while I'm in the middle of completing The Legend of Zelda for the thirty-fourth time."
The cheerleader was a silent for a moment.
"So, you don't like her, right?" The blonde exhaled a heavy breath when the brunette shook her head. "Rachel?" Quinn murmured, stepping closer to the girl.
"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel tilted her head up to stare earnestly up at the other girl.
The brunette's breath hitched when the blonde grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"I just don't- I don't want to see you get hurt again." The blonde bit her lip hesitantly. "The last thing you need is to get distracted by that thing and her little gaggle of desperate minions."
The halfback grinned goofily. "You don't have to worry about me getting distracted by Jess, or other girls, Quinn. I'm fully devoted to football, glee club...," and you, "-and my extra curricular activities. My schedule keeps me way too busy to partake in something as mindless and time consuming as gallivanting around with multiple girls." Rachel took a deep breath, "But I can't express how much I appreciate your concern for my well being. I-it's almost like we're..."
"What?" Quinn breathed out. "You can say it, Rachel. I told you not to be scared of me."
Rachel cleared her throat nervously. "I don't know... like, we're kind of friends, huh?" She tucked a stray lock chestnut behind her ear.
She almost let out an embarrassingly lovestruck sigh when Quinn smiled charmingly at her.
"Kind of."
They stared at each other silently in a comfortable silence, and Rachel was sure her shit eating grin could be seen from outer space as she gazed up dreamily at a smiling Quinn.
The moment didn't last.
"SLOPPY! You may be the stupidest teens I've ever encountered - and that's saying something! I once taught a cheer-leading seminar to Sarah Palin!"
.
'I didn't get to say it to you today, and just in case I don't get a chance to talk to you tomorrow...I just wanted to say good luck. I know you'll be wonderful, and know that I'll be cheering extra hard for you. Santana and Brittany as well. Good night, Rachel."
II.
She read over the text message for what had to be the billionth time, and still, it never failed to bring a beaming smile on her face. She stood up from the bench, locked her phone away in her locker, and puffed out a huge breath.
"You ready for this, Rach?" Finn asked as he handed her a helmet.
Rachel gave him a firm salute. "I have some simple rules when I'm getting ready for a big performance," she began, adjusting the gold star sweatband on her wrist. "First, no milk. Makes you too phlegmy. And in this case, the last thing anyone wants is a sore throat whilst playing a game with three hundred pound teenage boys trying to knock you down as you run towards your goal. Second, no doorknobs-"
"Doorknobs?" Finn echoed, scratching at his head, eyes going squinty in wonder.
"They spread infections. So do kisses."
"Well, I don't think you need to worry about those till after the game," Finn smirked at her, proud of his quip. "But from the way those girls were looking at you yesterday..."
The tiny brunette gave him a small shove on the shoulder, frustration evident on her face. "Finn, this is serious! Please, refrain from making unintelligible comments till after I'm done," she stressed, hands crossing over her padded chest. "Also, so what if I have some superstitions, too. I never step on cracks and sometimes I walk backwards. And everyone I see becomes a metaphor for the things that could stop me. I just give each one my gold star death stare. None of them stand a chance."
The tall boy looked down blankly at the half back, "You lost me at 'sometimes I walk backwards'."
"Never mind, Finn."
The towering boy just smirked. "Let's go kick some ass, bro!"
When they walked out onto the field, Rachel squinted at the illumination of the field lights. As her vision adjusted to the sudden brightness she could distinctly make out Quinn and the rest of the cheerios waving their pompoms, but her attention was solely focused on the head cheerleader as she performed an intricate routine that left the half back gaping dumbly at Quinn's showmanship and... flexibility.
"Dude, check it out," Finn whispered, nudging her lightly.
She gulped audibly, "I can see just fine." Her breath caught in her throat as Quinn performed a split midair.
Oh, Barbra, give me strength.
"No, dude, over there!" He pointed subtly to the stands with a wide grin and amused eyes.
She looked away from the performance and nearly stumbled over her cleats as she and her teammates trekked their way over to Coach Beiste. "Maybe they're just here in the name of school spirit..." Rachel muttered, staring wide eyed at the direction of the bleachers. Jess and her fellow golf players were perched on the stands clad in matching pink t-shirts.
With the number 29 printed on the front in a big bold font, her jersey number.
"I don't think they're here for anything, but to watch you play, bro."
Rachel was only half heartedly listening through the pep talk that Coach Beiste was giving them, her attention was split between gawking at Quinn and staring mindlessly at her...admirers?
"...you got that, Berry?"
"Wha-" She snapped back into action and nodded vigorously, "Y-yes, of course, Coach!"
"Alright, Titans, let's go out there and win."
.
As a football player, few things are more deflating than getting sacked by an out of field tackle, and watching from the grass as the other team high-fived each other smugly.
Rachel's duty as the primary running back was to run the ball as fast as should, while simultaneously dodging the tackler who's supposed to be too engaged with the blocker to even attempt to take her down. David wasn't doing his job on purpose. Tight ends were supposed to guard running backs as they ran towards the goal line. Karofsky was barely even making an effort to keep her from getting bulldozed over.
She's already been knocked down once, and she's pretty sure she heard Finn groaning in pain from getting tackled so many times.
They were down by a few points when Coach Beiste called a time out.
"What the hell are you doing out there, kid!" The woman yelled at an innocent looking Karofsky.
The beefy boy merely shrugged. "I just couldn't stop em', Coach, it's not that I haven't been trying."
Rachel gave the boy the most menacing glare she could master. "Oh, like anyone should believe you! You're purposely playing horrendously to get back at me for stopping you from terrorizing, Kurt," she huffed out, getting up on his face.
"Why don't you just go play with your little test tubes, dork." He rolled his eyes, moving to turn away from the fuming brunette.
"I am not done talking to you, David!" She exclaimed in offense, grabbing tightly onto his forearm.
He yanked it away roughly. "Well, I'm done talking to you, so back off."
"Hey, knock it off!" Coach Beiste stepped in, standing between them. "Why don't you two take a seat. I'm switching you guys off."
"But coach!" Rachel began to protest. "It's highly important that I play-"
"Sit down, Berry. I'm not about to tell you again." The woman turned to address the others. "Rick and Adams, you guys are in."
As the rest of the team walked back to their respective spots on the field, Rachel pulled impatiently at the straps of her helmet, throwing it angrily on the ground.
"What is your problem!" Rachel bit out.
"You better shut the hell up right now, unless you want a piece of The Fury. It's what I named my fist."
The halfback rolled her eyes. "Of course, you would be the type to baptize their paws with some absurd title. I'm shocked that with your level of brilliance, that you're not making more than barely passable grades."
"Are you making fun of me, freak?"
From behind her, she could hear the team water boy trying to get her to back off, but Rachel Berry has had it with David Karofsky and his inexcusable actions. It's one thing to throw ice cold drinks on her and her friends' faces, but stooping so slow as to purposely perform his role horribly as to cause her physical harm was beyond petty bullying.
"What are you so scared of?" She demanded, ignoring the warning of their coach. "You go after Kurt every chance you get. Why do you feel the need to pick on people who are physically weaker than you? It's almost like you're trying to compensate for something."
David removed his own helmet and disposed of it on the ground carelessly. "Get out of my face. You don't know me."
"But I do know you, David. You're the typical archaic neanderthal who feeds on other people's fears. High school is as good as it's going to get for you." She turned to address the small boy cowering beneath his headgear. "See, it'd be way too easy to say that David preys on Kurt simply because he's a raging dick, but there's so much more to David Karofsky than that."
"Shut up, Berry."
"I've talked to my therapists about you and your herd of asinine followers, and after listening to everything she had to say, I've formed my own theory as to why you are the way you are. You're the toughest guy in school, no one dares to even mess with you. In fact, you're so strong that I'm sure you can easily lift Little Elmer here over your shoulder and body slam him to the ground."
"Don't give him any ideas," the stunned boy squeaked to himself.
"But see, I think that perhaps beneath all that false male bravado-"
"Do not push me!" He sneered, shoving her back painfully.
She pushed his hands away from her and raised her voice louder to be heard over the now red faced boy. "There's an insecure little girl banging on the closet door trying to get out!"
Rachel barely registered the impact of David's fist hitting her face before she fell to the ground in a heap of stars, rainbows, and Quinn Fabray smiles.
.
The sensation of cold water being sprinkled over her face caused her to come back.
"Oh, dear Barbra, my nose," the halfback groaned incoherently. "Is it damaged? Am I deformed?"
"Oh, thank god you're okay."
"...Quinn?" She mumbled in confusion, peering through the slits of her eyes. The football player could vaguely make out her dream girl's form hovering over her. "We really have to stop meeting like this," she tried to crack a smile, but the action just caused her face to throb painfully.
"This isn't funny." Quinn glowered, helping the girl up into a sitting position. "How many times do I have to tell not to get yourself hurt before you start to listen?"
The tiny brunette frowned, bringing a hand up to assess her face. "It's not like I purposely try to get myself injured-"
"Really?" the cheerio deadpanned. "You could've fooled me."
Rachel looked over the kneeling girl's shoulder and saw a despondent Karofsky getting reprimanded by an enraged Coach Beiste.
"Serves him right," the halfback stated with a firm nod. She looked glanced at the scoreboard and saw that she'd only been out for a few minutes. "I need to get back in the game."
"Absolutely not." With a firm glare on her gorgeous face, Quinn shook her head in resolute. "You are not going back out there. You've already been hurt enough tonight."
"Quinn," Rachel began softly, "No matter how much they try to deny it, the team needs me. I can't let them down."
"Rachel, please-"
"I swear to you that I'll try my hardest to keep myself safe out there."
"You've promised me that before," Quinn pointed out stubbornly.
"We're friends, right?"
"Yes, but-"
"Then trust me, okay?"
.
After a rather heated discussion with Coach Beiste, the woman finally allowed Rachel back on the field during the second of the final quarter. One touch down and they could win this game. As Rachel strapped her helmet back on, she puffed out her chest and marched out onto the field, taking her rightful spot. From her peripheral vision, she could see Quinn looking at her with concern and her heart swelled with affection.
Finn glanced back at her and they shared a look.
She knew instantly what the plan was.
They've been working on this play since the last game, and now, without Karofsky sabotaging their every move, they could finally show it off.
It was on.
.
It all happened so fast.
One minute, she was sprinting down the field, cutting and bluffing her way through burly bodies, and the next...she was being hoisted up on her teammates shoulders as the roar of the crowd threatened to damage her sensitive hearing. She yanked off her helmet and and beamed at the sight of Sam, Stevie, and Stacy's blonde bouncing heads as they cheered for her uproariously.
When she was placed back on her feet, she didn't even have time to get her bearings in order before she was tackled into a tight embrace.
"You're more awesome than a double rainbow!" Brittany squealed into her ear as the tall blonde lifted her off her feet and twirled her around joyously.
Rachel grinned as she pulled away from the vibrant cheerio. "Why yes I am, Brittany!"
Brittany smirked lecherously as she blatantly ogled the halfback's form. "Can I just say how totally doable you look in your uniform, Rachel."
Santana came up next to them with an equally lascivious expression on her dark features. "Britts has a point, Frodo. Congratulations. Normally you dress like the fantasy of a deeply closeted baby lesbian with a very specific fetish." She paused to grin at the baffled football player. "But I actually dig this look…yay!" Santana clapped briefly, eyeing her suggestively.
"The black eye totally adds bonus sexy points," Brittany stated with a firm nod.
The halfback flushed brightly, but continued smiling nonetheless.
God, she felt amazing.
The only thing that could possibly make this moment better was-
"Have you guys seen Quinn?" She asked, trying to act nonchalant, miserably failing.
The hostile cheerleader rolled her eyes. "Wipe away that puppy dog look off your face, hobbit. Q's probably in the locker room changing out of her ruined pa-"
"She's coming over," Brittany announced with a bright gleam.
"Time for us to book it, Britts. I do not wanna be around to witness Q's pressed lemons going all mama bear on the hobbit's ass."
.
Rachel hissed as Quinn pressed the ice pack gently over her slightly swollen eye. "Ow, ow, ow," she chanted under her breath.
The crowd was slowly dissipating, and her teammates were already either hitting the showers, or celebrating their victory. Finn had driven Sam and his siblings home. It was just her and Quinn left out on the field. The halfback was sitting cooperatively on the sideline bench as Quinn took care of her injuries.
She'd gladly take a punch to the face anytime if it meant that Quinn Fabray would be leaning thisclose to her face, gazing at her unblinkingly with those smoldering eyes.
"Suck it up, Berry." Quinn shot her a teasing smirk. "You're supposed to be a big tough football player."
"A big tough game winning football player, thank you very much!" The halfback beamed. "Can you believe I won us the game, Quinn? The titans have now been victorious two straight games in a row! That's our longest winning streak in decades!"
The blonde placed the cold compress on the bench beside her, taking Rachel's face in both her hands. "How does it feel?"
Rachel's eyes flickered shut as the other girl's hot breath wafted over her face. "I-It feels-" glorious, amazing, magical, lovely, a lot like love, "...fine. It barely even hurts now."
.
Her face tingled as the softest pair of lips pressed themselves against her partly bruised cheek, right underneath her battered eye.
.
A/N: You guys are amazing! Thank you as always for checking this out!
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