I'm sorry, I know I made you wait a bit longer for this chapter. I realized that since this was intended to be a one-shot I had pretty much no back story so I'm working one out; Quinn's is going to probably be more elaborate and to show that anything in italics is a flashback in this chapter. To make up for my lateness I promise to get the next one up speedily! Hope you all enjoy and review as you feel compelled.
Quinn's POV
"What made you want to become a cop?" the question was far more complex than the brunette probably realized and Quinn thought over the best way to answer it. To get a bit of time, she grabbed the pale orange plastic cup of ice resting on her bedside table and shook a few chips into her mouth. The cold sensation of ice crunching between her teeth took her back to the night it all started.
"Come on. It's just one joint." Carly insisted, shaking the smoking object at Quinn's hesitant face, "It's not a big deal." Quinn shivered as she thought it over. It wasn't the first time that someone had offered marijuana to her, but at sixteen, standing under the school bleachers at eleven at night, something felt different.
"Just one." she echoed watching Carly blow an elegant smoke ring. Of course she knew that it was illegal and bad for your health and all that crap. But somehow seeing Carly with her sleek blonde hair framing her face, her black skinny jeans, and her J-Crew sweater, made the joint perched carelessly between her pouting pink lips seem harmless.
A smile cracked the other blonde's face as she held it out for Quinn to take. For a second she just held it between her fingers, it felt benign and it was concerning how naturally it fit. She fully expected her first inhale to be interrupted by the hallmark lung heaving coughs of a new smoker, but as the smoke filled her virgin lungs, it felt comforting. She exhaled in a rush while Carly eyed her questioningly.
"You've never done this before Q?"
"Never." she confirmed, taking another drag and letting the smoke sit for a moment in her lungs. Reveling in how deliciously wrong it felt.
Ice completely melted away in her mouth, Quinn had no choice but to answer Rachel's question, "I had to repay a debt to society." she finally decided on. It was the most honest answer she had given to anyone aside from Puck. Since moving to New York, he was the only one she trusted enough to tell, but she hadn't even given him the whole story. It was an untold tale and it sat locked away deep within Quinn. A book with no readers, a fairy tale with no ending.
Thankfully, Rachel didn't press the question, "Have you always lived in New York?"
"No, I moved here five years ago." Quinn crunched a new mouthful of ice. It reminded her of snow cones, of long summer walks in the park with her grandmother.
"Where did you live before?" Rachel's questions weren't too probing and Quinn was glad for the change from emotional to factual.
"Ohio." she noticed Rachel's eyes involuntarily dart to the bandage around her arm when she raised the cup to tip more ice into her mouth. Worry clouded the normally warm chocolate brown and it made Quinn guilty to cause Rachel to be concerned, "It doesn't hurt."
The brunette's eyes quickly me hers again and there was a slight blush as if she had just been caught staring at a deformity, "Oh, that's good."
It took all of two seconds for Quinn to convince herself to make the trade off and she offered Rachel the story of her injury in exchange for the story of her past, "I normally don't get shot."
"I should hope not." the matter of fact tone behind the singer's words brought a smile to Quinn's face and she was tempted to reply with a witty, 'thanks mom' but she refrained.
"They caught us off guard. Puck and I, we were just patrolling this neighborhood that's part of a known gang territory. They caught us in a crossfire and before I could even draw my weapon I was hit and Puck was dragging me behind a car. I don't think he shot any of them. It was all over pretty quickly actually. I think they backed off because they thought I was dead." The moment the last sentence was out of Quinn's mouth, she regretted it. Rachel's face darkened from her eyebrows down to her chin, the blonde knew she must be remembering the time between being told Quinn had been shot and being told she would be alright when she must have been imagining the worst.
"But I'm fine. It takes more than a couple of drug dealers to take down Quinn Fabray." She attempted a confident winning smile, but Rachel still seemed concerned.
"What provoked them in the first place?" her eyebrows were knitted together, and her confused gaze was on her intertwined fingers on her lap. She was toying with a ring on her thumb and, to Quinn, she looked absolutely adorable.
"It was my fault." at the admission of guilt, Rachel shot her a questioning look but before she could ask the obvious, Quinn answered, "I was working undercover to bring down a drug distributing gang. I guess my cover was blown. They spray painted 'snitch' on my car."
In reality, Quinn didn't know why she was telling Rachel all of this. It was the third time she had ever seen the girl, second time having a conversation. But she couldn't deny the insatiable need to tell her everything. As if she could express her feelings in personal stories and shared history instead of direct confrontation. It was irrational, it was irresponsible, it was against protocol, but more than any of that; it was inevitable.
Rachel didn't say anything, just kept twisting the ring on her thumb until the skin beneath it glowed an angry irritated red. Her eyes searched Quinn's face. For what, the blonde didn't know but she didn't seem to find it because she just kept silent and twisting that ring. Quinn was afraid she would twist her thumb right off so she reached out with her good arm and gently covered the brunette's hands with hers to still the movement.
Just the simple action of connecting her hand with the singer sent shockwaves through Quinn like it did the first time they touched in the subway, and again when their hands grazed outside of Rachel's apartment. The gesture was so simple yet so intimate. Quinn felt infinite; there were no words to describe the contentment she had just from sitting there staring into Rachel's concerned eyes and holding her hand. It was better than the slipper fitting and better than the first magic carpet ride. It was just so right.
Rachel's phone vibrated, bringing both of them back to the reality of Quinn laying in a hospital bed, her arm wrapped up like a macabre christmas present. The brunette checked the offending device and muttered the most adorable 'crap' that Quinn had ever heard under her breath.
"I've got to go, I have a modern dance class starting in fifteen minutes." Rachel said standing up and beginning to pull her brunette hair back into a bun, small, wispy, baby hairs escaping to stubbornly stand out.
"Oh, well thank you for coming to visit." Quinn wished she could get out of the bed but Rachel was already ready with her bag gathered.
"The pleasure was mine. We have to do this again, but next time not in a hospital."
"Ok, we can go to that cafe you were talking about."
"It's a date." Rachel's smile was wide and brilliant. Without hesitation she leaned down to give Quinn an awkward parting hug. When she pulled away, she dropped a feather light kiss on the blonde's cheek. She was at the door in a flash, bag pulled over her shoulder, ready to face the world, "Bye Quinn."
"Bye Rachel." the blonde was blushing and had what she was sure was the dopiest grin on her face. Quinn used to wonder why did fairy tales never paid attention to the prince's feelings. She would wonder why he didn't get any say in falling in love. But now it was abundantly clear to her; there was no choice. With a princess there wasn't a question of if or when the prince would fall for her, it was inevitable.
That's how Quinn felt at that moment watching the brunette disappear from her door. There was no question, she was hopelessly in love with a woman she barely knew, and it was magical.
