AN: Thank you guys so much for the lovely reviews! I was nervous about posting but I'm having so much fun and you all rock so now it's all roses.
This chapter is a little peek into Quinn's 9 to 5 and of course more Faberry.
Enjoy!
"Wait, just wait, back up," Ryan shook his dark head, "what?"
Exasperated Quinn tossed her hands in the air, "This is not that complicated!"
"Maybe you just suck at explaining things then, because color me confused. I've known you forever, Q-ball, and despite knowing a ton of delicious secrets you've never said a word about this. About her. This is like some weird secret, epic, day time television screenplay. Give me a second to man it down."
She snorted a laugh at 'man it down' and held up a finger, effectively pausing their conversation while she peeked her head up to look through the driver side window. The two Agents were sitting in their nondescript sedan, seats reclined as far back as they would go. Across the road a reedy man stood, beanie over his longish hair, twitching from one foot to the other, hands shoved deep in his pockets. So far, two hours in, and he was still alone. Quinn sighed and flopped back into her seat, eyes fixed on the vehicle ceiling, "Still nada."
"I hate to say it, boss, but we don't even know if he'll make a sale tonight," Ryan shrugged. "I'm thinking you shouldn't have bet on it."
"Then I guess we'll be out here all night for nothing," Quinn snapped.
"Wow, this Rachel thing's got you all fired up," He teased and crossed his arms over his chest. "Let me see if I've got this all correct. This is the woman who you had a crush on in High School. The one you bullied because you didn't want to admit to yourself that you had romantic feelings for another girl?"
"Yes," She grumped.
"Okay, so closeted teen, I get it. After High School you came to grips with the fact that you are, in fact, a lesbian, thus crushing the dreams of every man you've ever met or will meet. Left a long trail of exes and broken hearts, but never ceased pining for the 'one that got away'?"
"Yes?" Smirking she turned to look at him. His eyebrows were both up at his hairline and his thumbs warred with each other against his broad chest. The picture of Special Agent Ryan Peterson deep in thought. "Though that's definitely a very dramatic way to look at it. Also, I wouldn't say 'one who got away'. Have you been watching day time television again?"
"Shush, I'm working my way through this complex web of... webbery. Where were we? Oh, present day. By some miracle you ran into this woman, Rachel Berry, who's some sort of Broadway goddess apparently. You startle her with your mutant ninja stalker skills, causing her to spill her drink and offer to buy her a new one. Then you proceeded to bulldoze the poor thing with your brutal charms and ultimately gave her your phone number." He paused on a large inhale and glanced at her. She rolled her lips together to keep from laughing and nodded. "Now you're waiting for her to call you and driving me up the wall by constantly asking if I heard your phone ring... when you're not staring at it obsessively?"
"In a nutshell," Quinn winced at the description. She had been guarding her phone as of late, ready to pounce at the first ring. That didn't make it any less embarrassing to hear.
"It's kind of fun," He chuckled. "I've enjoyed calling you from outside your office just to watch you fall all over yourself to answer the phone."
"Shut up, Marine," She growled and peeked over the door again. Still nothing.
"You know, now that I think about it, this is lesbian literature gold. You could write up a novel or script and make a nugget when it becomes the next Twilight-type drama."
"A 'nugget'? What is wrong with you?" She snorted, "And what do you know about lesbian literature? Enjoying a little reading on the side, Ryan?"
"Too many questions, you're going to overload my fragile brain," He whined and poked her ribs playfully.
"You're such an ass."
"I'm your best friend, know what that makes you? An ass lover," He winked and laughed while she glared at him. "Look, Quinn, all joking aside - you are the most scarily patient person I've ever met. Seriously, it's creepy. You just need to use that, throw a little patience at this Rachel thing. I've never seen you get turned down, which is ridiculous, and I refuse to believe that the universe would concoct this situation for no reason. You ran into each other in this city. The odds of that happening are astronomical, especially considering how long it's been and that you were in DC before. That says something to me. You're going to steal this woman's heart, Q, and never give it back."
"You and your fate crap," Quinn sighed and rolled her eyes to hide how touched she was.
"I know, me and my fate crap."
"Let's just cross our fingers," She leaned up yet again and peered across the street - just in time to see another man approach their drug dealer. Slapping at Ryan to get his attention she narrowed her eyes and watched, they had to wait for him to actually make the exchange and then...
Unlocking her door she grinned triumphantly at him, "You owe me a drink." With that she darted out of the car, leaving him to scramble after her.
"Shit."
The next day found Quinn standing over her polished oak desk, hands flat against the surface, eyes dancing over the various papers scattered about. She sighed and rolled her shoulders, the late night had taken its toll and she made a quick mental note to get a massage if she could find the time. Rubbing at the back of her neck she snatched up a folder and scanned the surveillance photo.
"Agent Fabray?"
Quinn hummed her response, too focused on her work to bother with looking up.
"You have a visitor," Ryan said and cleared his throat at the end.
She lifted an eyebrow but didn't pull her eyes off the grainy photograph, "A visitor? Would you care to elaborate on what sort of visitor I'll be receiving?"
"Hello Agent Fabray," A warm voice she'd recognize anywhere pleasantly greeted.
Her head snapped up and sure enough there she was, Rachel Berry, standing next to a smirking Ryan with a shy grin on her lips.
Immediately she felt her mood lift, an answering smile pulling at her lips as she placed her work back down. "Hi," Was all she could manage.
Ryan shot her a knowing look, "I'm going to the break room to see if I can scrounge up some dregs of left over coffee. You need anything, boss?"
"No, thank you Agent Peterson," Quinn made sure to give him a clear 'I told you so' look. As he backed away from the petite Diva he rolled his eyes up comically and mouthed 'oh my GOD!' with a thumbs up. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and walked around her desk to escort Rachel fully into her office. "Sorry, it's a little intimidating in here."
"No, I mean yes, it is, but it's a lovely office Quinn, really. You have quite the view," Her wide brown eyes took in the city while Quinn took in Rachel. She wasn't dressed up, but wasn't as casual as she'd been in the bookstore either. Quinn had discovered that day just how much she loved Rachel Berry in denim. Today it was the thick dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that captured Quinn's attention and refused to let it go.
We are so pathetic, her inner nag bemoaned.
"I suppose I do," Quinn toyed with her fingers and cursed her sudden nervousness. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Rachel sat in one of the chair's facing Quinn's desk and rather than walk around and sit back in her much coveted desk chair Quinn chose to sit next to her. The brunette beamed at her and fiddled with the bag in her lap. "I know I was supposed to call but I admit I was curious, I wanted to see this place."
Quinn leaned back and waved an arm to indicate her office, "Here it is."
"Yes, here it is and here you are," Rachel ducked her head. "I'm very impressed."
A warm flutter invaded Quinn's stomach at the admission, "I'm flattered."
The Broadway star nodded her dark head and resumed her perusal of Quinn's office. "I should probably tell you why I'm here so you can get back to work."
Not wanting to seem overly anxious or eager, Quinn merely tilted her head and smiled to encourage the woman to continue.
"I'm sorry I didn't call sooner, or rather, call at all," Rachel started and blushed adorably. "I actually picked the phone up several times with intent to do so but got nervous. It's still hard for me to disassociate you from the Quinn I remember."
She winced at that, wondering if she'd ever fully escape the old Quinn Fabray. It felt a bit like she was Dr. Jekyll, always trying to atone for Mr. Hyde.
"Then I decided since I was curious about your work anyway, and because I feel better seeing you in person, to come down here to ask if maybe you'd like to get a drink with me?" She said the last part in a rush, and then stared at her expectantly.
Quinn could have danced around the room shouting Hallelujahs to the heavens.
Instead she smiled as widely as she could and said, "Absolutely!"
Rachel grinned right back, "Excellent, when are you free?"
"Any time, really. I have some paperwork to finish up this afternoon and could meet you as early as tonight. I'm sure you've got the harder schedule to work around Superstar." Excitement lit up her body, making her feel giddy. She could already hear Ryan in the back of her mind, teasing her for what she knew to be a dopey look on her face.
"I could meet up later tonight, but it would be much later. When is curfew for Federal Agents these days?"
Quinn snorted a laugh, "You tell me when you're available and I'll be there. There's always something for me to work on here until you can break free."
"How about I call, and I actually will this time, when I'm finished?" Rachel stood and Quinn thought she noted a little bounce in the Diva's steps.
"Perfect," She walked with Rachel to the door, "Hold on, you'll have to be escorted out."
As soon as she'd said her goodbyes and walked back into her office Ryan reappeared. "Ugh. Gossip hound," she jibed playfully.
"Can I just say, for the record? Caliente!"
Quinn sputtered and choked on the cold coffee she'd taken a swig of, "Ryan, you made me waste shitty coffee! Why do you have to say things like that?" She dropped into her leather chair but couldn't keep the angry expression on her face. "Caliente - you don't even speak Spanish, pendejo."
"No, but seriously? I hate you - Q, that woman is sex on a stick," He whined as he fell into the chair Rachel had vacated. "Did she say yes? Tell me she said yes and you're going out for drinks... and if you're not would you be horribly offended if I tried my luck? I mean, those legs? Yes, please!"
Even though she knew he was teasing she still bristled, "Hey! I know she's gorgeous but could you try not being a dick? Or stop thinking with it at least?"
"Sorry, Q," He dropped his smirk instantly and looked so thoroughly chastened that she threw him a bone.
"She is smokin' hot though."
"You think?"
TBC...