Thanks you all for the positive feedback on Chapter 1. I will try to keep up what I'm doing. I just love this story line!
The next day Quinn strode confidently into the theater, prepared to give this Rachel Berry a piece of her mind... That is if she could find her. After their short encounter Quinn had realized she had no clue what Rachel did on the show. Since she had been stretching Quinn just assumed she had been a dancer or something like that and the of course she was confronted with the whole issue of having no idea in hell as to how she was to find a dancer. Did they have an office like the ASMs did or was there some sort of dancer locker room somewhere under the stage? Hell for all Quinn knew they lived in some secret dungeon lair until they were needed for rehearsals so she resorted to the tried and true highschool methods of covert stalking. Step one- casually bring the other woman up in conversation to learn more about her. This proved easier than expected when she arrived in the pathetic excuse of an office the ASMs shared and was confronted with a slightly frazzled Tina.
"Good to see you are on time today, and dressed more sensibly" She said breathlessly as she steered the taller woman out into the busy backstage area. Tina was right, learning from the mistakes of her first day Quinn was dressed in simple dark jeans coupled with one of her favorite Yale tees. "Today is what we in the stage management world like to call 'Torture Tuesday' see, last night the cast all went out for their monthly 'I hate mondays' drinking binge which leaves us with some extremely hung over actors that we have to help make it through the day or the axe comes down on us."
"Oh so we have gone back to college?" Quinn asked humorlessly, she was having flashbacks to her sorority sisters coming home barefoot at two in the morning, makeup smeared, smelling of alcohol and Quinn, being the responsible one, having to maneuver them all upstairs and safely into bed while helping them nurse their hangovers the next day so they didn't get kicked out. "And here I thought I just escaped."
"Yeah this place is pretty much like a frat house the day after a big party, messy, smells like a mix of vomit and cheap booze, and uncoordinated girls stumbling around wondering where they are and what they are doing. Welcome to the party, house mom!" Tina turned to go but stopped when the voice of another ASM came over their head sets.
"Um can I get some help here? I am in the girls bathroom... I'm not a girl. Please someone come and help me."
"Ugh! Patronage will kill you every time, that oaf Fin has no clue what he's doing. If his father wasn't one of our biggest donors, I swear... Q, will you go relieve him? I feel bad for whatever girl who's hair he's holding right now. It's probably Rachel, she always is in the bathroom for half of Torture Tuesday. Poor girl never could hold her liquor when she was younger and it just did not get better with age." Tina rushed to tell Quinn, already edging away in the other direction, "I'll explain all about it later!"
"Fine, but you owe me a good story when I get out!"The blonde yelled over her shoulder. She liked Tina, once you got past the crazy mood shifts and the intimidating goth clothing, she really was easy to get along with. Quinn slowly wandered to the ladies bathroom backstage, she was in no hurry to get to there. I cannot believe this, I thought my days of holding hair while other girls tossed their cookies were confined to my college days and the occasional time Santana came home too sloshed to hold herself together. Taking one final deep breath of fresh air and steeling herself for whatever lay inside, Quinn pushed her way into the bathroom. Immediately she was knew where she was needed as she was met with the sound of something hitting the water of the toilet and a deep voice gagging.
"Never fear, Quinn is here!" She said announcing her presence and confidently striding to the last stall, of course, the smallest one. Fin, the tall intern that normally wore a stupid smirk, emerged pale and stricken.
"I guess you got this covered then..." He stammered awkwardly, backing out of the bathroom before turning and practically running away.
"Well if it isn't the new girl." a voice called from the stall. "We must keep meeting like this what with me helpless on the floor." the brunette still retained her cool cocky demeanor, even from the floor of the disgusting bathroom, but she was failing miserably at pulling her face into the trademark Rachel smirk and her voice kept slipping from the detached confidence she was trying to convey. It appeared as though Quinn wouldn't need to continue on her cover stalking quest. Rachel was sprawled out on the floor without a care in the world for the obvious bacteria and mystery stains discoloring the aged linoleum. Her hair was a rumpled mess and she spoke directly to the toilet rim she was clutching like a life ring.
"This time it is so not my fault though," Quinn replied, reaching over to flush the initial vomit.
"I'll agree to that, I have nobody to blame for this one but myse-" The brunette was cut short by a new wave of nausea. Quinn instinctively reached forward to sweep Rachel's hair into a gentle pony and began to rub slow circles between the shorter woman's shoulder blades.
"Shhh. It's alright, just keep breathing." the blonde cooed in Rachel's ear, smirking to herself as goose bumps broke out across the other woman's neck. The stall was hardly large enough to accommodate one full sized woman it was a wonder they could both squish into the space. Quinn was securely wedged between the brunette and the wall, attempting to stay precariously balanced on her toes so her favorite jeans wouldn't have to suffer contact with the floor. Her knees leant gently against Rachel who just leaned into the contact.
"Thanks." Rachel whispered once the wave passed. Relaxing into Quinn's touch as she continued to rub circles gently into the brunette's back. Even with her hair mussed up and sweat beading on her forehead, Rachel looked breathtaking and the blonde was not about to give up a valid excuse to touch her. Who knew someone this cocky that was openly flirting with me a day ago could be so vulnerable at the same time? Speaking of which, wasn't there something she had wanted to talk to the brunette about? Oh well, it couldn't be that important. Quinn reasoned.
"Q, this is Stage Man, do you have a second?" Tina's voice crackled through Quinn's headset and she jumped.
"Not really Stage Man, my hands are a bit full here with a, uhm, situation." she ended lamely. The brunette shook with silent laughter.
"Ok, when you wrap up that, situation, there is an issue in costume that requires your mediation." Tina grumbled.
"You don't have to stay here you know" Rachel told the blonde, "You can go and do your job."
"That's very considerate of you, but it's part of my job to make sure you don't choke on your, bad decisions, too." Quinn gently replied, "besides I'm pretty sure the entire costume department hates me after my incident yesterday when I said one of the Elfaba costumes looked like it belonged to a goth nun."
"You did not!" Rachel laughed, "That's nothing, on my first show I went into makeup the first day and asked the woman in charge when she was due... She wasn't pregnant, I got dirty looks from the entire makeup staff for a month and opening night, I swear she gave me a giant mole." Quinn joined in her laughter and twenty minutes plus multiple bouts of nausea later she emerged from the stall with a haggard looking Rachel.
"Let's get you cleaned up a bit." the ASM suggested leading Rachel over to the sinks and helping her climb atop the counter. In a practiced motion Quinn reached over to the paper towel dispenser and grabbed three. The first she dampened and used to gently wipe Rachel's face, the second she used to dry it. She ran the third under the cold faucet and carefully pressed into the back of the brunette's neck. Leaning in shyly to move her hair out of the way Quinn found herself standing between the older woman's legs.
"That feels so good Quinn." Rachel's head was slightly tipped back, her mouth agape and eyes closed.
"What can I say, I'm a bit of a hung over girl expert."
"I'm guessing that expertise doesn't come from being one yourself?"
"Not exactly."
"Is that a bit of a bridesmaid complex I'm sensing there?"
Quinn gave the brunette her signature eyebrow quirk, "Bridesmaid complex?"
"Yeah, you know always a bridesmaid, never a bride. Always holding a girl's hair, never having your hair held. It's a serious thing."
"I'm sure. No I do not have bridesmaid complex. The last time I was the one having my hair held because of alcohol I was in college and spent four hours sitting locked in my dorm room closet until my roommate bribed me to come out... Then I spent the next hour sitting in a bathroom stall looking, more than a bit worse than you did earlier. So no, I do not miss that in the slightest."
Rachel smiled at the anecdote, surprised that the new girl was opening up so easily to her, but enjoying it. "I would have never pegged you for a lightweight. So were you that girl in college who stood in the corner and tried to engage innocent bystanders in conversations about your latest econ lecture?"
"No! I am not a lightweight for your information, there were... extenuating circumstances that time. And it wasn't my econ lecture. It was my philosophy one."
"That was my second guess."
"Mhm. Now as much as I love this sweaty bed head wind tunnel look you got going on here with your hair, do you mind if I interfere with it?" Quinn was still standing between the shorter woman's legs but it didn't feel awkward. Quite the contrary, she was desperate to find a reason to remain firmly in place but the paper towel was growing warm under her palm.
"If you insist." Rachel consented with a smile.
So Quinn embarked on the weirdest angle bun making ever. She stepped even further into the counter to be able to reach all the had at the nape of Rachel's neck and now her hips were flush against the counter and she could feel the brunette's thighs hot against her own. After gathering all of her hair up, Quinn moved in closer to Rachel's face to properly secure it atop her head, smiling shyly at the proximity of their faces, if I just tilted my head a bit more to the left and bent down a bit we would totally be, SNAP OUT OF IT QUINN! A voice in the back of the blonde's head chastised her but she made no move to pull away or drop her adorable smile. A few gently tugs later and she finally dropped her hands to rest on top of the brunette's knees. "All done."
"Thanks, maybe you should be in hair instead of ASM."
"Ha, me and other people's hair, normally don't go. The first time I tried to straighten my best friend's hair I burnt it. Thank God it was black to begin with but then it got all brittle and sort of crumbled... There was never a second time and every time I am doing mine she has to bring it up, 'Be careful Q, don't want to burn anything now do we?' she can be a real pain sometimes." There is was; word vomit. Why is it that when I get nervous I can't just shut my stupid mouth and enjoy the moment? "I suppose I should let you get back to your work." Quinn said finally pulling back and moving out of the way so Rachel could hop down from the counter.
"Thank you, for all of your help. I enjoyed this... even given the circumstances." They moved to leave the bathroom and go in their separate directions.
"If you need anymore help, give me a call ok?" the blonde asked shyly, "I would hate for you to be subjected to the oaf again."
"Thanks, I will do. Can I have your cell number? For any future 'situations'." Rachel asked, her cocky smirk back in place.
"Sure," Quinn's ever present blush was back as she wrote her number down on a corner of one of her papers from the clipboard and ripped it off to give to Rachel. "Next time you have a situation, it would be nice if it didn't involve a bathroom." She teased heading off in the direction of costumes.
"No promises!" Rachel called, "Oh and Quinn, those jeans are working for you." she couldn't stand to not have the last word and delighted in the pink that now crept up the blonde's ears.
"Alright, I'm here, what is the 'issue'?" Quinn asked. The normally calm room was packed to the bursting point with people from all departments, "What is going on here?"
"Ok, so every Torture Tuesday for the last year there has been a pool where we, the lowly crew members, take bets on which cast member will ralph the most before the work day is up!" Tina hurried to explain.
"So you are all waiting for me to tell you all how many times Rachel just lost her cookies?" the new girl clarified.
"Exactly," Tina gestured behind her at a whiteboard on wheels that had been taped into a grid. It resembled the types of score keeping that die hard fantasy football players used. "Spill it Q!"
"Fine, but this is nuts just so you know! Six times while I was there."
"That plus the two during Fin's stay gives a grand total of eight, putting her in second place right behind Kitty, but she hardly counts considering she hurls at least three times a day when she isn't hung over." One of the props managers said, changing the totals on the board to reflect the new information. "You can still place bets until noon, then we close the pool and all bets become final!"
"I'll put twenty bucks on Berry." Quinn decided, handing over the money.
"Oh do you know something we don't new girl?" Tina asked.
"Just a hunch!" just then the blonde got a text from an unknown number, 'New girl, meet me in the bathroom, ASAP. We have a situation.' "Make that thirty." She amended, forking over the additional ten and heading to the bathroom with a smile on her face.