Chapter 10
The Robot
Brittany put her hand to bumpy scar that Santana left on her neck. The last time she'd been to Lima Heights, Santana had sunk her teeth into her and drank her blood until she passed out. But Brittany was pretty sure she wouldn't do that tonight. Then again, she'd been pretty sure she wouldn't have done it that night.
Brittany pounded her fist against Santana's front door until Santana pulled it open and peered out at Brittany, standing out in the chilly night.
"Brittany, what are you doing out so late?" asked Santana.
"I came to see you. Where are your parents?" asked Brittany.
"They left, Britt."
"And they forgot about you? Like in Home Alone?"
"Yeah, Britt. Like in Home Alone."
"Well, I wouldn't know," Brittany sulked, "You never talk to me anymore. You just show up at my house once in a while to talk to my mom."
"Brittany..." Santana sighed, and pulled Brittany in for a hug, "I'm sorry."
Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's waist and pulled in her tightly, smelling her new scent of blood and vodka. As she rested her chin on Santana's shoulder, she noticed the pile of Louis Vuitton suitcases in the hall.
"Santana, are you leaving to go find your parents?" asked Brittany, pushing past Santana and walking in the hall to look at her luggage.
"No," said Santana, closing the front door behind them.
"Good," said Brittany, turning back around, "'Cause they come back for you in the end of the movie."
"My parents aren't coming back for me," said Santana.
"Why not?"
Santana sighed. "They don't like that I'm a vampire. And a lesbian. But more so because I'm a vampire."
"I'm sorry, Santana," frowned Brittany.
Santana looked down at her black leather Docs. "I was going to leave, to go live with my cousin Callie. She has an apartment in Seattle-"
"Seattle? Like in that movie with Woody the Cowboy?"
"Yeah-"
"Santana! That's far away! Like... at least a whole mile or something."
"Brittany-"
"I barely see you anymore already! I'll never see you if you move to Seattle!"
"That's the point," sighed Santana.
"You don't want to see me anymore?"
"It's not that I don't want to, Britt. It's just... Remember the spell your mom's friend did, to give me my soul back so I wouldn't... bite?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, it went wrong. And I'll lose my soul again if I ever feel true happiness. So I can't stay in this town, Brittany. I love you. You make me happy. And that's dangerous."
Brittany furrowed her brow at the black and white checked tiles of the hallway.
"I got it! I'll just never let you see my boobs again."
Santana laughed. "Don't get me wrong, looking at those do make me truly happy... But I don't think that's really the answer."
Brittany sighed sadly. "Santana, you can't do this. You can't just run away from happiness when so many people spend their lives trying to find it," she said, sidling up to Santana and draping her arms over her shoulders, "Sometimes, you have to take the risk."
Santana smiled. "When did you get so smart?"
xxx
Quinn could feel Finn's shaky breaths as he sat beside her on the leather couch of the family den. Her eyes swiveled around the room, avoiding her father's steely glare.
"There must be some mistake," said Mrs. Fabray, breaking the intense silence, "Quinn, we raised you right."
Quinn frowned bitterly at the floor. Did they?
"You did," answered Finn, "We didn't even have sex-"
"Can we just stop with the lying, please?" asked Mrs. Fabray, raising her already high eyebrow arches.
"You were about five years old," Mr. Fabray said, staring at the den carpet as everyone turned their attention to him, "I took you and your sister down to a toy store. It was Valentine's Day, so before I left you with the babysitter so your mom and I could go out to dinner, I decided to bring you to get a little present. You were allowed one stuffed animal, each. You picked out this giant pink bear. It was even bigger than you. Your sister, she just got this little blue giraffe. Then I brought you home... And before the sitter showed up, you started having a tantrum. You wanted to play with Frannie's giraffe. I tried to tell you that it was your sister's and you had to wait your turn and ask nicely... You just got so mad. You had such a temper at that age. Next thing I know... Fire. Just, bursts out of the palms of your hands. At first I thought somehow you'd caught fire and it was hurting you, but I splashed water over your hands and it didn't go out and that's when I realized you weren't hurt. You set fire to your sister's giraffe...That's when I knew. There was something wrong with you."
A single tear slipped down Quinn's red cheeks. "Daddy, I'm sorry..." she whispered.
Mr. Fabray sighed and shook his head, frowning. "You have a demon in you, Quinn," he said, softly, "It's not your fault; it's something... something from your mother's side of the family. But a demon nonetheless."
Quinn took in a shaky breath as more tears rose to her eyes. "Daddy..."
"You need to leave," grumbled Mr. Fabray, glaring at Finn.
"Please, Daddy, can we talk about this?" pleaded Quinn, "Finn is a good guy."
"You, too," said Mr. Fabray.
Mrs. Fabray looked at him in surprise, but kept quiet, pursing her thin lips.
"What...?" Quinn whispered, tears dripping off of her chin.
"Get out of my house," he said in a low grumble.
"What? You can't do that," said Finn, "Please, Mrs. Fabray, do something!"
"Don't bother, Finn," sobbed Quinn, "If she wanted to do something she would've when she found out I was pregnant."
"You knew?" Mr. Fabray grumbled at his wife.
"I- No! She didn't tell me anything," squeeked Mrs. Fabray, fearfully shaking her head.
"But you knew! And I needed you! I needed my mom! I didn't need all the magic. I didn't need to be pretty! I needed you to love me!" Quinn cried, "You were so scared of what he would do if he found out, that you just pushed it aside and threw me under the bus. That's always how it is with you two, isn't it? If you don't talk about something, it just goes away. You taught me that!"
"Do not turn this on us!" shouted Mr. Fabray, standing up, "You are the disappointment here!"
"Why? Because I'm not Frannie?" shouted Quinn.
Mr. Fabray shook his head. "You're not even human."
"Daddy," she cried, "I just made a mistake."
Mr. Fabray glared at Quinn. "Who are you? I don't even recognize you anymore."
"I'm your daughter."
Mr. Fabray shook his head and walked out of the den despite Quinn's tears. Finn breathed shakily and rubbed the small of her back as she wept.
"It's gonna be okay," he repeated again and again until Mrs. Fabray ushered them out of the house.
xxx
Students bustled through the halls of McKinley High and passed the double glazed glass walls of Mr. Schuester's office, cluttered with books and knick knacks.
"Why does he have a Twizzler in his pencil cup?" asked Rachel, throwing out the inkless pens.
Buffy giggled. "He's so quirky."
"Yeah, I guess," frowned Rachel, poking at the Twizzler that was congealed to the bottom of the cup, with fabric fibers and specs of dust stuck to it.
Buffy, Rachel and Tina spent their morning scanning books into Mr. Schuester's computer to get the clutter of manuscripts out of his office.
"Mr. Schuester really is something," Buffy sighed, as Rachel and Tina threw each other brief awkward glances.
"If by something you mean an adult teacher," said Rachel, standing over the desk as Buffy handed books to Tina to scan into the computer.
"He's so smart, like, so smart! And," Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes back, "Sooo handsome!"
Rachel grimaced. "Buffy, he's your watcher, and our teacher."
"So?" asked Buffy, wrinkling her nose, "He's totally sweet and adorable, and I'm pretty mature for my age. I mean, I went to his house yesterday and cooked for him-"
"You went to his house?" asked Tina.
"Buffy, that's so inappropriate! You go there for business, not for... pleasure," scolded Rachel.
"Guys, you're making a big deal out of nothing. It's not like teacher student relationships have never happened."
"You're right, Buffy, but they usually end in one of you getting arrested," said Tina.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "It's not like we're waving our relationship around."
"What relationship, Buffy?" asked Rachel, "Does he even know you two are in a relationship? Because it's hard to be in a relationship with a person who doesn't reciprocate your feelings."
Buffy glared at Rachel as she stood before her in a nautical cardigan. "You would know all about that, wouldn't you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's supposed to mean that maybe me and Will sound unlikely, but it's not any more unlikely than you and some popular jock with a pregnant girlfriend!"
Tina stayed quiet and small in front of the computer as she hastily scanned books while her friends glared at each other, until they heard a tap on Mr. Schuester's glass door. Buffy's eyes lit up as Will poked his head of coppery curls in, smiling awkwardly.
"Uh, Buffy, can I speak to you for a minute?" he asked.
Buffy nodded vehemently and threw a smug grin at Rachel before she followed Mr. Schuester out of the office and down the hall.
"What do you want to see me for?" she asked, barely able to contain a wide smile.
"I want to show you something," he replied, "I made a perfect medley of songs that's going to be a fantastic teaching tool about how to sing a great ballad."
Mr. Schuester led Buffy to the choir room, where sitting on Brad's piano was a CD player, and sitting on the plastic chairs was Ms. Pillsbury and April Rhodes.
"Why are they here?" asked Buffy, disappointed that she and Will weren't alone.
"W-Well, we, too, are very curious about the power of the ballad," Ms. Pillsbury answered nervously.
Mr. Schuester put his hands on Buffy's shoulders and sat her down between Emma and April.
"Okay, Buffy, this is a mash-up of Young Girl by Gary Puckett and the 1980s Police classic, Don't Stand So Close To Me. Now, I want you to listen very closely to the lyrics because I really mean what I'm singing," he said, leaning down to her.
Buffy blushed and nodded and sat back in her chair, waiting for Will to serenade her as he flipped a switch on his radio and the first notes of an '80s ballad started playing.
"Young teacher, the subject of school girl fantasy. She wants him so badly, knows what she wants to be," Mr. Schue sang as Emma nodded in encouragement and April leaned forward in her seat, "With all the charms of a woman, you've kept the secret of your youth. Book market, so close now, this girl is half his age."
Buffy blushed as Mr. Schuester broke into the chorus.
"Don't stand! Don't stand so! Don't stand so close to me! Young girl, you're out of your mind. Your love for me is way out of line. You better run girl, you're much to young, girl," he sang, and the short karaoke music stopped.
Buffy, Emma and April broke out into applause.
"So," panted Will, "Buffy, did you understand the message of that song?"
"Yes," nodded Buffy, "I'm very young and it's hard for you to stand close to me."
Will sighed and dropped his head. "Um, no, Emma, April, would you mind helping me out here?"
"You're a very good performer," Emma sighed, clasping her hands together.
"You, boy, are the next Justin Timberlake," said April, fanning herself.
Will groaned under the stare of the three smitten women.
xxx
That night, Rachel settled in her bedroom with her loveheart pyjamas, her legs folded up on the seat of her desk chair, with West Side Story playing on her TV in the background, looking through Wikipedia. Her dads were taking her to see Book of Mormon in the summer and she made it her business to learn every actors' names, but her mind was muddled and distracted. She kept thinking of what Buffy said to her earlier, about how a relationship between her and Finn would be unlikely and silly to hope for. It'd hurt her feelings, but it was undeniably true.
Rachel's thoughts floated away as a bubble-popping noise filled her earbuds. She had to blink twice to realize that someone was IMing her. Someone named Moloch17.
'Rachel?' was all he typed, the bar blinking expectantly for her to reply.
Her thin fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say.
'Who is this?' she asked, curious, furrowing her brow.
'You don't know me' he replied, 'My name is Malcolm. I just wanted to tell you that I watched all of your videos on MySpace and I'm a huge fan!'
Rachel breathed in a sharp intake of breath. A fan? She'd dreamed about this day, when she'd be recognized for the stellar ingénue that she was and applauded for her effortless talents and determined ambition.
FannyBrice13: Thank you, Malcolm! Did you really watch all of them? That's impressive; I upload a video every evening.
Moloch17: I know; your videos are the best part of my day. I always check your MySpace for a new upload.
FannyBrice13: That's amazing! Surprisingly, not many people have a good review of my performances.
Moloch17: Surely, they're just jealous. You're the most terrific singer I've ever had the pleasure to listen to.
Rachel blushed and held her hand to her chest.
FannyBrice13: Thank you! Which was your favorite video?
Moloch17: Don't Rain On My Parade. It's my favorite by far. I prefer it to the original.
FannyBrice13: Stop it! You're making me blush.
Moloch17: It's true! You're one in a million, Rachel. And beautiful, too.
Rachel's mouth dropped open. The flattery was too much, and she was starting to get suspicious.
FannyBrice13: You're lying. Who is this? Are you someone from school?
Moloch17: It's not a lie! Perhaps I came on too strong, I apologize.
Rachel frowned suspiciously, but she gave in to Malcolm's chivalrous manners.
FannyBrice13: Okay, I'm sorry, it's just that I'm not the most popular girl at school and people can be cruel.
Moloch17: That's teenagers for you. It's so hard to find someone these days with the same emotional maturity level.
FannyBrice13: I completely understand what you mean. Boys my age are unbearably immature.
Moloch17: Yeah, girls my age are so flimsy. It's so rare to find someone with as much class, elegance and ambition as you, Rachel.
Rachel smiled at her computer screen.
FannyBrice13: You're quite the charmer, Malcolm.
xxx
The next day at school, Buffy tucked a plate covered in saran wrap between her hip and her arm as she walked through the high school with her backpack slung over her shoulder.
"Buffy," called Finn as he approached from behind her.
"Yeah?" she asked, turning around to face him.
"Have you seen Rachel?" he asked urgently, "She wasn't in English this morning, and I wanted to talk to her about rehearsing for Sectionals in a few days."
"I haven't seen her. Have you seen Mr. Schuester? I wanted to give him something."
Finn shook his head. "What are those?" he asked, nodding towards this plate in her arm.
"Homemade cinnamon cookies," she smiled.
"Ooh, can I have one?" Finn asked, reaching out.
"No!" Buffy snapped and slapped his hand away, "They're for Mr. Schuester!"
"Well, that's weird. Anyways, can you help me find Rachel? I really want to get this routine for Sectionals down. I'm sort of looking to get a music scholarship as well as a football scholarship."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I just, I want to make sure that I have a good future. For Quinn."
Buffy smiled and nodded. "I get it. Okay, I'll help you look for Rachel if you help me look for Mr. Schuester. Let's try his office!"
Buffy and Finn sprinted to Mr. Schuester's office, only to find not Mr. Schuester, but Rachel, her legs crossed in a blue buttoned skirt, on Mr. Schuester's computer chair, typing away on his dated keyboard.
"Rachel, what are you doing here?" asked Buffy.
Rachel briefly glanced at her friends before she set her eyes back on the screen. "Just IMing," she muttered.
"IMing who?" asked Buffy, as Rachel logged off, rising from Mr. Schuester's seat.
"Just a friend," she replied, "What are those cookies for?"
"Mr. Schuester," Buffy replied quietly.
"You skipped English just to IM a friend?" asked Finn.
Rachel sighed. "Okay, I have a confession to make," she smiled giddily, "I met someone."
Buffy raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Well, good. Good for you," she replied as Finn frowned beside her.
"What's his name?" asked Finn.
"Malcolm," smiled Rachel.
"What does he look like?" asked Buffy.
"I don't know," grinned Rachel.
Buffy and Finn glanced at each other, perplexed.
"So, you haven't met him?" asked Buffy.
"Don't you kind of have to meet someone to, like, have met someone?" asked Finn.
Rachel's smile faltered. "Well, I mean, I don't know what he looks like, but that's just a shallow detail. I know that he appreciates my talent. That he's good with words, and very polite-"
"Do you know his last name?" asked Finn.
Rachel frowned. "Why can't you guys just be happy for me?" she asked.
"We are!" said Buffy, "We just, we want to make sure this Malcolm guy is good enough for you."
Rachel smiled. "That's sweet, Buffy, but I can take care of myself."
"We just don't want to see you getting too serious too soon with a guy you've never even met."
"Buffy, I won't! I'm mature enough to handle this, thank you," said Rachel, and slung her satchel over her shoulder.
"Right," said Finn, pursing his lips, "Well, Rachel I wanted to ask you if you'd help me rehearse tonight. One on one, in the auditorium. After school."
Rachel smiled and sighed. "I can't. I promised Malcolm I'd be online tonight. But maybe Quinn can help you!" she exclaimed and strutted out of the office.
"What just happened?" mumbled Finn as Rachel strutted down the hall.
"I'll go talk to her," said Buffy, keeping her plate of cookies tucked tightly under her arm.
Buffy followed Rachel out into the busy school hallway. "Rachel, wait," she called, and Rachel whirled around in her penny loafers to face her.
"Buffy, what is it?" asked Rachel.
"Don't you think you're acting a little weird?" asked Buffy, cocking her head to the side.
"No, I don't," Rachel shook her head, confused.
"Well, it's just, yesterday you would've jumped at the chance to have any time alone with Finn, and now you're blowing him off to talk to some guy you've never met."
"I am not blowing Finn off! I made plans with Malcolm, and I'm not going to back out."
"I just don't want to see you getting hurt."
"I'm not going to get hurt, Buffy," Rachel huffed, annoyed, "Finn is in a relationship, with a baby on the way, no less. But Malcolm likes me. He makes me feel good about myself. Finn just confuses me."
"You don't even know if Malcolm is really Malcolm. He could be anyone, Rachel."
Rachel rolled her dark brown eyes. "Weren't you the one who told me that my crush on Finn was pointless, and that a relationship between us was unlikely? He doesn't like me, Buffy. Malcolm likes me!"
"Rachel-"
"I don't have time for this. I have to organize a ballad with Puckerman for our last assignment before we start rehearsing for Sectionals."
"I just think you're in over your head."
"I'm not the one baking cookies for a guy I can never have," scowled Rachel.
Buffy's mouth fell open as Rachel stormed off down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. People brushed against her shoulders as they pushed past her in the hall, making the cookies wobble in her hands. She wandered into the bathroom and rested her cookies on the marble sink counter, and looked into the mirror. She'd let her hair down today and tinted her lips with a peachy gloss. She thought it might impress Mr. Schuester, looking more sophisticated than most of her classmates. But now she only felt embarrassed for considering it.
Rachel was completely right. Not only was Mr. Schuester her teacher, but he was her watcher, and for their relationship to ever become something romantic... it was inappropriate, and unrealistic. Buffy ducked her head in embarrassment at the thought that a relationship like that could ever work out. Even though she knew she shouldn't, a small flame of hope still flickered. She couldn't help liking Mr. Schuester. She couldn't make those feelings go away. She knew she couldn't be with him now, but maybe someday...
Buffy shook and stood up straight as she heard the girls' room door swing open and closed as a meek looking girl in a tomato-soup colored turtleneck and clear J. Crew glasses walked in, her mousy brown hair held up with a bandana printed with chili peppers.
"She's right, you know," the girl said quietly, her hands clasped together at her lap and her head ducked down.
"What?" asked Buffy, looking at her through the mirror.
"I know what this leads to, Buffy," she explained, peering up at her from behind her thick spectacles, "You see, I used to be in love with Mr. Schuester, too."
"How do you know I-"
"You have to end this silly crush, Buffy. It'll only break your heart."
Buffy's mouth hung open as she turned to face the girl. "Who are you?"
"Suzy. Suzy Pepper."
"Oh... Okay, Suzy. Thank you..." trailed off Buffy, stunned.
xxx
Buffy breathed in deep and braced herself for the oncoming embarrassment as she entered the choir room, polished fingernails still gripping the sides of the saran wrapped plate of cinnamon cookies.
"Mr. Schuester?" she called, causing her lanky watcher to look up from his music sheets on the top of Brad's piano.
Will took one look at the cookies in her hands, and dropped his music sheets, the papers sprawled on the linoleum tiled floor.
"Oh no. No, no, no! Buffy, you have got to stop this!" he cried.
"Will-"
"No, don't 'Will' me, this is going too far. You came to my home, Buffy. Do you know how inappropriate that is? And now cookies?"
"Mr. Sch-"
"Just stop! I need you to stop, because I don't have time for whatever this is. I have to figure out these sheets for Sectionals, and I need to train our new member. Without you giving me googly eyes!"
"Listen-"
"You listen, okay? You're a sweet girl, Buffy. You're funny, and you're charming, and you have really great hair... But that's beside the point! I am your teacher. You are my student. I'm an adult, you're a child-"
"I know!" cried Buffy, her fingers trembling around her plate of cookies, "I just came to say I'm sorry."
"You... What?" asked Mr. Schuester, his expression softening.
"I'm sorry," said Buffy, resting the plate on the closed grand piano, "I know how stupid I've been acting. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Mr. Schuester sighed and leaned against the piano, his glassy eyes trailing along the contours of Buffy's face.
"It's okay, Buffy."
Buffy shook her head, stiff blond waves of her hair swaying. "It was idiotic. And I'm really embarrassed. It's just... It's really hard, having this huge, dangerous birth rite when all you want is a boyfriend. You can never really have an honest relationship with a person when you have this big secret of eternal impending doom. It sucks. The sad thing is I really thought there was a chance you could like me back."
Mr. Schuester looked down and frowned sympathetically.
"Buffy, I don't have a doubt in my mind that someday, you'll find someone who will accept you for who you are, and you'll be able to have an honest relationship with them."
Buffy nodded, unconvinced. "I didn't even bake these cookies. My mom made them because I told her we were having a bake sale to raise money for glee club. I don't even know how to turn on the oven."
Mr. Schuester smirked. "It's the thought that counts."
"So, getting us ready for Sectionals?"
"They're coming up soon," Mr. Schuester nodded.
"Who's our new twelfth member?" asked Buffy.
"Piper Saberhagen. Do you know her?"
Buffy shook her head, stumped.
"I'm guessing she's a friend of Quinn's," said Mr. Schuester, kneeling down to pick up his music sheets.
"A Cheerio? But didn't Quinn and Brittany quit the team? Or get kicked off?"
"They did, but I guess Piper followed suit and dropped cheerleading for glee club."
"Well, there's already something wrong with that."
xxx
Piper Saberhagen straightened a miniature mirror that hung inside the door of her locker. She peered at herself through it and straightened her auburn ponytail. She hadn't been blessed with stunning features like most of the Cheerios. In fact, she was a bit of a Plain Jane. The only thing that made her look a little bit interesting was the fact that she glossed her lips like Quinn Fabray and lined her eyes like Quinn Fabray. She used to cheer with the Cheerios, with Quinn Fabray, but she was always one of the sturdy girls at the bottom of the pyramid, and Quinn was always, always on top. Piper used to ponder dying her hair honey blond like Quinn Fabray, but since Quinn left Cheerios and dyed her hair brown, Piper had opted for the natural look, trading her Cheerios uniform in for babydoll dresses.
She slammed her locker door closed as she spotted Quinn Fabray approaching down the hall with that dolt, Brittany Pierce.
"Hi, Quinn!" she exclaimed, smiling widely to show off her veneers, and walking alongside the two girls, "Oh, look, we're matching!"
Quinn looked down at her Juicy Couture dress - rose dust cotton, cinched at the waist and embroidered in small white polka dots - and back up at Piper's baby pink and white striped babydoll shirt. Something she probably picked up at Target.
"Right," Quinn smiled, reminding herself not to be as snobby as she usually was.
Now that her parents had kicked her out and she was living with Finn's mom, she'd probably have to start shopping at department stores, too.
"You wear it better, though," Piper gushed, her tight reddish brown ponytail bopping up and down cheerfully.
"Thanks," said Quinn, "I actually have to go find someone-"
"Who are you looking for?" asked Piper, dropping her head to the side and widening her murky hazel eyes in curiosity.
"Rachel Berry. She's in charge of the choreography for our glee club, and I wanted to run it by her again-"
"Oh!" exclaimed Piper, clapping her hands together like a seal, "I was going to go to Rachel, too. I just joined glee club! Isn't that cool?"
"You just joined glee club...?" asked Quinn, her mouth hanging open.
Piper Saberhagen had followed Quinn around like a puppy since the eighth grade. If Quinn did anything, you could bet that Piper would be doing it, too. Not that anyone noticed Piper. Some people just didn't have that spark. Instead of getting on the Cheerios due to her coolness, like Quinn, Piper got in because of actual gymnastic talent. That was rare.
"That's like social suicide," Quinn shook her head.
"I know! But I don't care. I just want to express myself, like you. You're so artistic. I think that's really cool."
What Quinn couldn't understand was why Piper still wanted to be just like her, when she was basically a pariah in the eyes of the rest of her schoolmates.
"That's... That's nice, Piper," said Quinn, trailing off as Rachel Berry's determined stride caught her eye as she turned the corner.
"Rachel!" Quinn called, making the girl stop in her tracks.
"Quinn," she repeated, folding her arms and eyeing the three girls as they approached her, "Can I help you?"
"We were going to rehearse, remember? But you weren't in class last period-"
"Right!" said Rachel, closing her eyes and nodding her head a moment, "I was busy."
"Busy with what?" asked Quinn, resting her hands on her hips.
Rachel shook her head. "It doesn't matter."
"Right. Well, should we rehearse now? I need to get the moves down with minimal exertion."
"Because of the baby. Of course," replied Rachel, "Maybe we can practice tomorrow. I'm actually kind of caught up with something."
"With what?" asked Quinn, frowning and furrowing her brow.
"Nothing!" Rachel said defensively, and strutted away.
"What is wrong with her?" Quinn asked aloud, watching Rachel stride down the hall and disappear into a horde of students.
"I know, that Rachel Berry, she's so not cool. Not that being cool is everything. By the way, I think you getting pregnant is just, totally cool. You'd be an amazing mom," Piper said quickly.
Quinn closed her eyes and counted to ten in her head. "Do me a favor, Piper. Use protection," she said, as Piper nodded adamantly.
xxx
Rachel sprinted to Mr. Schuester's desk chair and plopped in, not letting her hands stay idle for a moment as she opened up Skype to check if Malcolm was online. He was.
FannyBrice13: I'm back! Sorry!
Moloch7: It's perfectly fine. I wouldn't want you to get a bladder infection on my watch.
FannyBrice13: It might be hard to fit in time to talk to you for a while.
Moloch7: Why?
FannyBrice13: I'm just really busy. Sectionals for my glee club, and I still have to sing my ballad with Noah.
Moloch7: Who's Noah? Someone I should worry about?
FannyBrice13: Oh, no, he's just some jock in my glee club. You have nothing to worry about concerning him.
Moloch7: Good. Now, what's the real reason we can't talk as often?
FannyBrice13: Excuse me?
Moloch13: Rachel, you're never not busy. You're an ambitious woman. You always have something to do. Why are you suddenly so swamped that you can't take the time out to talk?
FannyBrice13: It's complicated.
Moloch7: Is it your friends?
FannyBrice13: Maybe. They keep nagging me about you.
Moloch7: Ignore them.
FannyBrice13: They just keep telling me that it's not a good idea to get into a serious relationship with someone I've never met. Do you think they're right?
Moloch7: Not at all! People will continue to think that meeting a person physically is more personable, but they'd be wrong. You and I talk for hours, sharing thoughts and ideas. This kind of interaction is hard to achieve face to face.
Rachel understood that. How many times had she taken the seat next to Finn and used an ice breaker, only to have the conversation cut short? She wished she could talk to him like she talked to Malcolm. She wished Finn would be as open with his thoughts and feelings as Malcolm was.
Moloch7: I think we should meet.
Rachel let her fingers hover just above the letter keys, unsure how to answer. She would've thought she'd be eager to finally meet someone she was so interested in, but thinking about Finn had her hesitant. She and Malcolm had a common bond of music and literature. They could talk for hours about their favorite plays and artists. But she and Finn had an unspoken connection; something completely chemical. Something she couldn't make sense of with her mind, but felt perfectly right to her heart.
FannyBrice13: I don't know.
Moloch7: Why not? You do like me, don't you?
FannyBrice13: I do! You're a great friend.
Moloch7: Friend? Perhaps I'm mistaken, Rachel, but I thought we were more than that. No?
FannyBrice13: Maybe! I don't really know. It's complicated.
Moloch7: What makes it complicated?
FannyBrice13: There's someone else. Someone I have feelings for. It would never work between us, for several reasons, but it's still something I have to deal with. Do you understand?
Rachel watched in frightened anticipation as Malcolm took an unusual amount of time to reply.
Moloch7: Don't tell me it's that Noah Puckerman? He's not good enough for you, Rachel! Maybe you're attracted to the bad boy stereotype, but it's only going to end up hurting you. You can't trust him, Rachel.
FannyBrice13: No, you've misunderstood.
Moloch7: I haven't misunderstood anything, Rachel. Noah Puckerman is a bad guy. He's the father of Quinn Fabray's child, not Finn Hudson. Do you really want to commit to a guy who slept with his best friend's girlfriend?
Rachel stared at the screen with her mouth hanging open, blinking several times, waiting for the words to make sense. She was shocked by the sudden revelation, but also by how much Malcolm knew.
FannyBrice: How did you know that? In fact, how do you even know my friends names?
Rachel felt a chill as Malcolm suddenly went offline. She looked around her in Mr. Schuester's small office, as if someone would be creeping around the glass walls, peeking in at her, but no one was. She watched as students milled past, unaware, when she had a frightening thought. Malcolm could be any of them. Malcolm could be anyone.
xxx
Buffy looked at the thin silver watch her father bought her for her fourteenth birthday. They had at least forty minutes left.
Buffy stared out of the window of the green room. They were at the Lima Holiday Inn, where the Sectionals were held. It was starting to get really chilly in Ohio this time of year as winter reared its frosty head, but inside of the toasty hotel, Buffy slipped off her furry hooded leopard print coat to reveal a silky black dress that stopped at the knee, a chunky red ribbon wrapped around the waist and a tight bodice. Outside the window, Buffy watched people exiting their cars and entering the hotel, their breath visible in the frosty air.
New Directions had prepared three songs, all going by the Sectionals theme of a ballad. They'd spent the past week getting ready. A stellar performance of Don't Rain On My Parade by the club's co-captain, Rachel Berry, followed by a Finn-heavy 80's power ballad, You Can't Always Get What You Want, and a group rendition of Queen's Somebody To Love, easy on the choreography, due to Quinn's pregnancy and Finn's co-ordination problems.
Buffy wrung her hands together, and breathed unevenly, the sound of her heart beats filling her ears. She thought she'd worked through her problems with stage fright during Push It earlier in the school year, but she was wrong. The thought of standing, let alone singing and dancing, in front of hundreds of people, including judges, made her wanted to run out into the chilly parking lot and hop into the first unlocked car she could find. She started to feel sick. She looked over at her friend, Rachel Berry, who was resting with her feet up on one of the couches, gargling a bottle of salt water.
Rachel never seemed to have the same problem. It was obvious to everyone that Rachel belonged on stage. She had what it took to shine, and be confident in her own stunning talent. It was a fact that no one wanted to remind her, for fear that her ego would grow even larger. Rachel heard her cell phone buzzing in a pocket of her purse. She reached inside and saw a text from an unfamiliar number, and furrowed her brow as she answered it.
'Rachel, its Malcolm. You probably won't see me, but I'm sitting in the crowd at your show choir competition. I think it's finally time we met'.
Rachel's stomach dropped. She started to feel uneasy whenever she thought about Malcolm.
'I don't think that's a good idea, Malcolm' she replied.
'Rachel, you mean a lot to me. You may not realize it, but I mean a lot to you, too. I don't want you to end up alone.'
Rachel wrinkled her nose. 'Thank you for your concern, Malcolm, but choosing not to be with you doesn't guarantee that I will end up alone,' she texted.
'Please, Rachel! I love you!'
Rachel shook her head and held down the power button on her cell phone until it turned off. She was done with Malcolm, but he'd left her feeling nervous, and that wasn't a good way to feel before a performance.
"Mr. Schuester, do you mind if I head to the cafe around the corner to get some tea. I'm a little nervous," she admitted, standing before her teacher who looked up from his complimentary magazine.
"Sure, Rachel," he said, and ducked his head back down as she left through the door.
xxx
At McKinley High, April Rhodes sifted through the piles of books left in the back of Will Schuester's office, attempting to find one in particular. A Wiccan cookbook she'd left behind, for cheesecake with a spark. Most of the volumes had a layer of dust wiped off the top, as if somebody had already been sorting through them. April smiled triumphantly as she found her lost cookbook, only to have something catch her eye. A book with a mock wooden cover and strangely familiar etchings carved into the front. April turned the thick pages, only to find every one of them was blank.
"Oh, no," she said to herself, "This is not good."
Back at the Holiday Inn, Mr. Schuester felt his phone vibrating against his thigh. He fished it out of the pocket of his jeans and answered.
"Hello?"
"Will? It's April!" she replied on the other line, sounding frantic.
"April, is something wrong?" Will asked, his voice hushed as he moved from his seat to outside the door of the green room. He didn't want to make the kids more nervous than they already were.
"Something is very wrong, Will!" her shrill voice boomed through the speaker in his cell phone as people passed him in the hallway.
"What happened?"
"You have in your possession what my Wiccan coach used to call, the book of Moloch."
"What's that?"
"It's this ancient book that these monks used to trap a demon in. His soul would remain on the pages forever."
"And?"
"And he's gone, Will! The pages are empty!"
"Uh. Okay. What do we do?"
"I don't know, Will. I don't know where he is. Did you or anyone else read the book aloud?"
"Not that I'm aware of. They just scanned the books into the computer-"
"The computer? Oh my Lord."
Back in the school, April sat herself at Will's computer chair and flipped the switch, tapping her foot against the desk as she waited for it to turn on.
"Just as I thought," Will heard her say on the other line.
"April, what?" he asked.
"Moloch was converted from his essence to your computer, Will. He has a file on it!"
"Well, can't you just delete the file?"
April attempted to drag the file entitled 'Moloch' to the trash can, but the screen went blank, and April gasped sharply when the face of an ancient demon filled the screen, his skin gnarled and rotting and his teeth sharp, gnashing together. The demons horrifying black eyes stared straight at April, and with a low voice, he growled, 'Leave Rachel alone!' and disappeared, leaving the computer screen blank.
xxx
Rachel stomped in her red heels out of the Holiday Inn, and sighed as she spotted a Starbucks around the corner. She couldn't wait to wrap her hands around a chai tea. They always calmed her down when she was stressed or nervous. Not only was she anxious because of Malcolm, but she was still reeling from the bomb of information he'd dropped on her when they'd last talked. She'd spend her time in class biting the inside of her cheek and wondering if it was true. Was Noah Puckerman the father of Quinn Fabray's baby? She wondered if there was any way she could know for sure. If Finn was being lied to, used and manipulated, didn't Rachel have the responsibility to tell him?
Rachel mused how she would break the news to him, when she was suddenly tugged back the shoulders. Before a scream could escape her mouth, a cloth covered it, forcing heavy fumes into her throat and nose, until her vision went black and she slumped forward.
Rachel blinked her eyes, and instead of the frosty morning and the distant Starbucks, she lied on her achy back, her eyes searching through the dimness. The curtains were drawn. As she propped herself up on her elbows, it seemed that she was in an empty office space. She spotted familiar stationary sprawled on a desk. She was still in the hotel! Clutching her head dizzily, she got up on her feet, realizing she wasn't alone. A machine - no, a demon - stood guard at the door, at least seven feet tall, it's broad build made completely of metal and loose wires.
Rachel whimpered, and cowered backwards, jumping as her back bumped against the wall.
"Wh-Who are you?" she stammered.
"I am Moloch," he answered, his voice deep and robotic.
Rachel quivered against the wall, unsure how to proceed. Now was usually the time when Buffy would arrive and save the day, but as Moloch, the robotic demon, towered over her, she was starting to think that maybe she wasn't coming.
"What do you want?" she whimpered.
"For centuries, my essence was entrapped onto parchment, but you have set me free," he growled, staring down at her and holding out his large, rusted hand, "Take Moloch's hand, and you shall be his bride and together we shall concur this land."
Rachel cowered against the wall as he leaned in, his metal arm outstretched.
"No thanks..." Rachel murmured.
"No... thanks...?" Moloch repeated, "I am the one you call Malcolm. Moloch shall court you, and you shall be his bride."
Rachel bit her bottom lip, sheepishly.
"Oh. Right. That makes sense. Well, um, Malcolm. Or Moloch... I would like to politely decline."
Moloch stood up straight, his hand falling back to his side. "I don't understand."
"It's just not a good time for me. Besides, there's someone else-"
"There's is no one else!" Moloch's voice boomed, as he reached out, his hard metal claw clamping over Rachel's waist and lifted her from the ground.
"If you do not wish to be Moloch's bride, I shall grind you into dust," he threatened as Rachel struggled to breathe, trying to grasp at his hand as her feet dangled above the ground.
"Grind this!"
Relief fell over Rachel's body as she heard the familiar sassy tone of her best friend, Buffy Summers. Buffy burst through the door, in her heels and cocktail dress, and rammed into Moloch. He wobbled forward, and lost hold of Rachel, who fell to the floor.
"What does that mean?" asked Mr. Schuester, following closely behind as Moloch turned slowly to face them.
"I don't know," Buffy shrugged, and leaped over to Moloch in her high heels, landing a hard blow right in his abdomen.
Unfortunately, it was only hard for her. She gasped and clutched her fist, which pulsed in pain. She looked up, a little fearful, as Moloch gave a low growl, and swatted at her with the back of his hard metal hand, like she was a fly. She went flying into the wall, making an audible thud.
"Buffy!" cried Will, and rushed to her side, kneeling and wrapping an arm around her shoulder to lift her up.
Rachel reached for a fire extinguisher behind on of the desks, and rammed it into Moloch's back, making a visible dent. Proud of herself, she was a little less scared than she should have been when he whirled around, his eyes glowing an artificial red. She swung the fire extinguisher again and dented his chest, making him stumble back, before growling angrily and grabbing the fire extinguisher right out her hands. Her arms still poised to swing something at him, Rachel looked up, eyes wide in fear, as he clenched his fist, ready to come down on her frail bones.
Buffy shook off Mr. Schuester's protective hands and reached at the wires on Moloch's back, tugging them out. Sparks flew dangerously in her face as she tugged at his loose wires, trying to distract him from hurting Rachel. If Buffy went reeling from one punch, Rachel would surely be doomed. Moloch stumbled back because of Buffy's tugging, and turned to her.
"Who do you think you are, you puny children, to battle Moloch," he boomed, before clenching his fist and throwing punch at Buffy, who ducked at the right moment, so instead of in her face, Moloch's heavy fist landed right into an electrical power line in the wall.
Buffy covered her head and stayed close to the floor as Moloch started to convulse, sparks flying until they died down, and he collapsed on the backroom floor, his body motionless and smoking.
"I really hate guys who refer to themselves in the third person," sighed Buffy, staring at his steaming robotic corpse.
Buffy stood back up, holding her sore fist as Mr. Schuester offered Rachel his hand, helping her off of the ground.
"Internet dating almost never works," said Buffy, making Rachel sheepishly stare at her hands.
"I guess I had to learn the hard way," sighed Rachel.
Mr. Schuester put a sympathetic hand on Rachel's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Rachel. If you just want to go home and rest, we can pull out of the competition. I'm sure you must be really scared-"
"Pull out of the competition?" Rachel gasped, her head snapping up and her brown eyes wide in shock, "Why in the world would we do that? Mr. Schuester, we can't just give up our responsibilities every time an obstacle comes around the corner! The show must go on!"
And with that, Rachel Berry hitched up her dress and stomped right over the robot monster that just tried to kill her and right out of the door.
"She's got a couple screws loose, huh?" asked Buffy, as they watched her strut down the hall.