Chapter 21: The Blower's Daughter

She knew it was a bad idea from the get-go. What was wrong with her? She felt like even more of a masochist than usual. She walked up the small steps in front of the entrance to the theatre. Just turn around Quinn. She doesn't know you're coming anyway so it won't matter if she doesn't see you. She tried to tell herself, but her feet just kept on walking.

She walked around the entrance but there was no one around, so she decided to continue on through a set of double black doors with a long gold bar handle, presumably leading backstage. There was no one there to stop her, so why not?

She looked down a dark hallway, and saw a glow of soft yellow light, just near the bottom. She heard hushed voices, but she couldn't tell exactly who they were. She carefully made her way down the hall - who knew what kinda crazy props were hanging around down there. The props guys in the department were known for their 'sense of humour', that frankly Quinn always found pretty weird. They were geeks after all.

Her hands grew clammy, her body trying to warn her that somehow she knew what was coming next - or more like who was coming next. She finally made it next to the white framed doorway where the soft light came leaking from. It was the back of the stage, behind that formidable giant red velvet curtain. She stayed hidden from sight, but peered in, her eyes falling on an oblivious Rachel...and Puck.

That infectious roar of laughter came spilling out of her throat like a torrent, her small hands clasped together against her chest with her head thrown back as her shoulders shook uncontrollably. Hazel eyes watched quietly as Puck made the little brunette giggle in delight and amusement, making a fool of himself in another cast member's wig dancing with a mop. Quinn loved this side of Puck, the side he hardly let anyone see. She chuckled to herself, but made sure that they wouldn't hear her. She simply kept watching him twirl her around, both in their element.

That was until they stopped twirling. Slightly dizzy she swayed to one side, but his strong arm was there to catch her. He looked down to her smiling, and her eyes flicked down to his mouth, and then back up to his eyes. Quinn felt a niggling pain deep within her chest, almost like a stitch every time she took a breath. Her breathing became shallow, like she had ran a marathon as she watched Rachel lean her weight forward onto her toes. She knew what was coming next, but like an inevitable car crash, she couldn't help but watch. The brunette's eyes fluttered shut as she leaned her whole body upwards. Puck wrapped his strong but gentle arms around her upper arms to her delicate shoulder blades and leaned his face down. His eyes shut, just like hers, and their lips collided.

The breath in Quinn's throat hitched, and she let the Tupperware box she had been holding clatter to the ground, in a split second when her brain refused to work. Shit. She mentally cursed herself. Her eyes snapped up to Puck and Rachel, who was now clinging onto him.

'Hello...?' Puck walked forwards towards the darkness where Quinn was lurking. Then she realised, she was lurking in the shadows. Like some sorta does that? She snatched the plastic box from the wooden floorboards and quickly walked out of the shadows, as if she hadn't been there longer than she could count.

The vibrating buzz of her cellphone in her cardigan pocket shook her from her daydream.

From: Rachel

Sorry I'm just backstage finishing up, we finished a little late. It's quiet so just come through.

Huh, she sighed. Still no kiss. She shrugged off the niggling feeling of disappointment settling over her, and made her way backstage, pulling back the same black door, with the same gold bar handle.

She emerged from the same shaded wings, and the brunette gave her a white toothy smile.

'Hey.' that smooth voice still wrecked through Quinn. 'Sorry, we overran a bit.'

Quinn shrugged with a smile. 'Don't worry bout it.'

Rachel bent over and leaned down, the hem of her white tee riding up slightly, giving Quinn a glimpse of those dimples at the base of the brunette's back that she used to love running her tongue and mouth over. Not to mention that ass that was as perfect as ever. Quinn gave a heavy sigh.

Rachel grabbed her bag then turned to face the blonde with a small smile. 'Ready to go?'

Three small words that said so little, but said so much.

She shook her head, her brain felt as if it were swimming in her skull. Stop thinking Quinn, just do it! Small tanned fingers interlocked at the back of her head, pulling their faces together. Lips glided together. Fingers brushed familiar skin. Pale fingers tangled in long dark locks. Short nails grazed down a tanned back as pale pink lips massaged a smooth neck.

Goosebumps travelled over Rachel's forearms and she felt shivers like pins and needles weigh down her legs. Both girls felt the alcohol snaking through their veins with a dull ringing buzzing in their ears, as if someone was trying to say something to them but they couldn't hear.

The mattress gave a small sigh as Rachel collapsed backwards as pale hands caressed over her ribs. Rachel adjusted herself over the sheets up towards the headboard as Quinn crawled up over her. Small tanned fingers threaded through choppy blonde hair as a pointed tongue smoothed over exposed collarbones.

'Quinn...' a husky voice moaned. 'Quinn...w-wait...'

The blonde pulled back to look at the brunette lying in front of her, skin glinting with a light sheen of perspiration. Her bangs swept to the side, hair laid out over the pillow. Quinn had to hold herself back from touching the brunette.

She rocked back onto her knees as Rachel pulled herself up, chest heaving. 'We shouldn't do this...'

Quinn wouldn't have known she was serious if she hadn't looked up. She felt her chest burning, restoring oxygen to her system as deep brown eyes stared hard into her own.

'I'm sorry Quinn. But we can't. Not now.'

Quinn stood pulling on her shirt, her fingers lightly trembling as she fastened the buttons. She nodded. 'Okay.' she simply responded.

'Quinn...' Rachel sat up properly, sliding her feet to the floor. 'I...'

She reached for the door handle. 'No Rach, I get it...'

She left Rachel sitting on the bed as she left the apartment. She made it out of the front door of the building before she heard her phone begin to ring in her jeans pocket. She thought about not even checking it, but before her brain could kick in she found herself answering.

'Puck...?' her voice came out sounding shaky and weird.

'Quinn...? Are you okay? You sound weird.'

She nodded, trying to shake the cloud of alcohol from her head. 'I'm fine.'

The line was quiet from a few seconds. 'Have you been drinking? Your voice is shaky.'

'No...' she answered carefully.

He laughed. 'You're such a liar!'

She made a groaning noise. 'Okay maybe a little.'

'You're talking to Señor Puckerone. I know a drunk chick when I hear one.'

She found herself smiling a little. 'You suck Noah.'

'Sometimes...' he lowered his voice.

'Puck!' she groaned. 'I gotta go.'

He chuckled. 'Aight, call me later...'

She stepped off the sidewalk onto the crossing. Footsteps tap along the asphalt.

A clatter.

'Quinn...?'