A/N: I feel like I should apologize, since most of this is utterly absurd. INSTEAD, I will tell you to… Enjoy!
Cryptid Proof
Creature #2: Yeti
"Skepticism is fine, Santana. Skepticism is what will help us rock the scientific community when we get this footage!" Quinn was moving methodically back and forth from the shelf next to her desk to the heavy duty case resting on its surface. She was collecting their cameras, lenses, tripods, memory cards, laptop with global satellite capabilities, and a DVD of The Goonies. It was Brittany's favorite. "By the way," Quinn said, stopping and turning on her heels to face Santana as the girl lounged back on Quinn's sofa. "Shouldn't you be packing? That is what I pay you for, right?"
"Oh come on, Quinn," Santana scoffed, examining the nails of her left hand. "Your research grant pays me."
"Yeah well, you're working for me, honey. So get up off your ass and go make sure your lover didn't have any issues collecting the weather data for the next two weeks." Santana sighed exaggeratedly before hauling herself up and heading out the study door. "And make sure to confirm our airline tickets!" Quinn shouted at her retreating figure. Santana merely answered with a haughtily waved hand over her shoulder.
Quinn chuckled as she turned back to her work. She gave Santana a hard time but, even though Santana was her go-to camera woman, the cameras were near and dear to Quinn's heart. So ensuring that they were packed securely before the twenty-hour trip halfway around the world wasn't really the inconvenience Quinn made it out to be.
The semester in which Quinn defended her doctoral dissertation – an all-encompassing research study of the past, present, and future of cryptozoology and its significance – she had been able to remain grounded solely through the blossoming friendship she had formed with Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce (and insane amounts of coffee). Brittany had been an art and film student while Santana had primarily been focused on the technical aspects behind cinematography. It hadn't taken long for Quinn to see the magnificence behind the girls' relationship – Brittany, with her keen eye for beauty and detail (when she focused), and Santana, with her mastery of taking the perfect shot and making it just work… Well, they had mad skills, and Quinn hadn't wasted much time at all in recruiting them to her "team".
"I've already procured a five-year grant," Quinn said. And she truly had – her meticulous and emotional way with words had easily swayed the committee into giving her the funding. "Now I just need the perfect team. And you guys," she said, gesturing to the girls sitting in front of her on their couch with their fingers laced together, "are it. I can feel it. I can feel it all the way down to my bones. We're going to discover things that people have only ever dreamed of discovering before, and it's going to be amazing!"
They had said yes, obviously, and the past three years had been a whirlwind of world travel and amazing experiences. But it had also been a humbling journey – with harddrives upon harddrives full of useless footage, back aches and frostbite, nasty sicknesses ("I told you not to drink the water, Lopez!"), and – for some – diminishing optimism and increased skepticism. Cough, Santana, cough. But Quinn was something of a kickass Fearless Leader, and she wasn't giving up hope, so neither was her crew. A part of Quinn knew that she would never give up hope, and not even because she was afraid of failure. Quinn wouldn't give up because she knew that, somewhere, there was a little kid sitting at home sick from school watching History Channel documentaries about Bigfoot and Nessie and they needed to see that the seemingly impossible was never really – simply – impossible.
After the last bag was packed, the girls all started hauling their luggage out to the car. Quinn quickly dropped her sunglasses down from the top of her head to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight. It was disgustingly hot outside, and she immediately felt herself begin to sweat.
"Nothing like searching for a Yeti in summertime, girls!" she playfully called out to Brittany and Santana as she carefully placed the last case in the back of her Jeep.
"Santana," Brittany's tone was one of sheer confusion as she hopped into the back of the vehicle, "why did I have to pack such warm clothes if it's summertime?"
Quinn started the Jeep and began the drive to the airport. "Because, babe," Santana replied, "we're going to the Himalayas, and it's frigging cold there."
"The hima-whatas?"
"Brittany, remember? We've gone the past three summers. We stayed with that lovely Tibetan family in India last time we were there. They made those dumplings that you loved?" Quinn tried to spark the girl's memory.
"Ohhh, right. The Abominable Snowman. I think he was on an episode of Duck Tales once. Well, that's cool. I look hot in my North Face clothes." Quinn sniggered at Brittany's response. The girl was way smarter than she acted sometimes. But whatever made Brittany happy made Santana happy, and if Santana was happy then Quinn sure as hell was happy too. So it hadn't taken long for Brittany's whimsical and free-spirited remarks to make little to no impact on Quinn. And Santana had become accustomed to Brittany's way of things long ago.
"Damn straight," Santana practically purred from the front seat.
It was their third day making the trek to what Quinn's research of the satellite generated topography had dubbed the best vantage point in the area. While the search for the Abominable Snowman had been going on for centuries, Quinn's crew was the only one in this region at the moment – most people just didn't think that summertime was a good time to catch a glimpse of the Yeti – so they didn't have to fight for the best seat in the house. Errrrr, mountains – the best seat in the moutains.
Silence descended on them as Brittany and Quinn used binoculars to scan the rocky landscape around them, searching for the slightest hint of a moving beast amongst the scraggly flora of the region. Santana had her computer equipment set up and was watching a plethora of mini-screens in front of her, monitoring for movement in any of the various camera locations they had setup on their first day on the mountainside.
That night when Quinn fell asleep, she dreamed of finding proof of the Yeti.
A few days later, when the sun was already lowering through the sky to the western horizon and still they had not seen one hair off a Yeti's head, Quinn stood up and announced that she was going for a hike.
"Be careful," Brittany said.
"Don't trip," Santana added.
Quinn held her camera firmly between her hands. It was on, charged, and ready to roll at the slightest sign of the mysterious cryptid that had been surrounded by legends, hoaxes, and insubstantial evidence for centuries. Quinn imagined the Yeti as being strong, fierce creatures – but creatures who, obviously, knew when to hide rather than seek.
Snow crunched behind her, and Quinn immediately stilled her movements. Slowly, cautiously, she turned her shoulders in the direction of the noise. When she realized that it had been a low-hanging limb dropping its snow onto some more snow, she relaxed. But she also sighed.
It would have been nice if it had been a Yeti, Quinn thought. She continued walking, searching the ground around her for footprints or other evidence before it got too late to see or find her way back. It also would have been nice if it had been the lovely Rachel, Rachel Berry. Quinn suddenly stopped walking forward as she realized what exactly it was she had just thought. Rachel had talked of the universe aligning itself – or whatever – and Quinn had felt special. And while talk of the universe aligning itself in order to bring the women back together was comforting and special and romantic, Quinn wasn't sure that she had enough room in her life for another maybe.
That night when Quinn fell asleep, she dreamed of the universe aligning itself once more.
Their last day in the Himalayas began much as it had for the past three years. Santana and Brittany collected all of their equipment and began to pack up while Quinn stocked her backpack with supplies for the entire day. She headed out just before dawn broke – with her camera still clutched firmly between her hands and her optimism still intact, as always.
Later that evening – when the winds would begin to blow and the temperatures would drop too low for them to brave the external environment any longer – the girls would find Quinn, and they would all drink Kingfisher in their bedroom until they passed out on the mattress. Their limbs would tangle, and they would find warmth in each other. And Quinn's last thought was usually something along the lines of, "Jebus, I really hope I don't wake up to them having sex on top of me. Again."
Until then, however, Quinn continued trekking across the beautiful – cold, semi-treacherous, mostly-barren, but still-beautiful – area of the mountainside that she was certain would be prime habitat for the Yeti. All of her research pointed her here. But maybe it was time to reevaluate.
As Quinn was about to round the side of a cliff outcropping to get a glimpse of the other side – an area that she hadn't remembered exploring before on her previous visits – a resounding voice nearly made her lose her footing.
"I told you the universe has a funny way of making epic love come to fruition." Quinn turned so fast that she nearly slipped again. And there Rachel was – looking adorably beautiful with her bright pink coat and pink fleece beanie with a strange ball of wool situated on top of her head. She was smiling radiantly as she shrugged her shoulders from side to side before adding, "Well, I said something like that, at least."
"The universe has this funny way of making things such as this work out," Quinn quoted. It was cheesy, she knew. But there was something about the other girl that made resistance futile.
Rachel's smile broadened – if possible – as she took a step towards Quinn. "Things such as this?" she questioned, playing along.
Quinn moved forward as well. They were right in front of each other now, and though Quinn delivered the next lines with a quiet, more reserved seriousness than Rachel had, they still rang true. "Epic love in the making, Rachel. Epic. Love."
When their lips met, the coldness of the mountain air ceased to touch them. Their mouths were hot and smooth against each other. Their hands were clutched in brown and blonde locks. Rachel's binoculars were gently making sweet, sweet transformer-like love to Quinn's camera, smooshed between their bodies.
"Of all the places and all the cryptids and all the locations in the entire world, what brings you here, Rachel, Rachel Berry?"
Rachel giggled. "Quinn, my darling, everyone knows that summertime is the best time to search for the elusive Yeti!" And then they were kissing again, and each one was wondering whether or not the other was experiencing the same fireworks display.
Just on the other side of the outcropping that Quinn had almost walked around, two creatures tiptoed quietly to the edge. They peeked their heads around the corner, one's head slightly below the other. Their eyebrows rose simultaneously at the sight of two humans exchanging saliva in front of them. They quickly retracted themselves from the edge of the rock and began to sneak away.
"That was a close call, my Yeti," the smaller Yeti – apparently female – whispered to 'her Yeti' as she grabbed his hand in hers. Their rough, dark hair tangled together as they slunk around the corner.
"You're right, my Yeti. It was close indeed. We'll have to write to Sasquatch and tell him about it…"
Later that night – with a couple dozen empty Kingfisher cans between them – the four girls lay sprawled out on the bed.
"How is it," Rachel hiccupped, "that I seem to only catch you just as you're leaving?" Her fingers – of their own volition, it seemed – drug their way up the inside of Quinn's arm, dancing across her exposed collarbone and down her other arm. Rachel then seemed to lose all strength as she plopped down across Quinn's chest.
"I'm not sure," Quinn said, not-so-subtly inhaling the sweet scent of Rachel's hair. "You're the one who's all in touch with the universe and whatnot. You tell me."
Rachel giggled. "I think this was the universe's sign that we should officially become facebook friends." She snuggled closer to Quinn, pressing her head up under the other woman's chin.
"I uhh…" Quinn stammered momentarily.
"She doesn't have facebook," Brittany supplied for her.
"Yeah," Santana added. "She claims that only geeks have internet profiles."
Rachel immediately regained her strength. She propped herself up and looked down at Quinn. "Really?" she questioned.
Quinn blushed under the intensely adorable gaze of a seemingly fascinated Rachel Berry. She nodded twice in agreement with the other girls.
"Well, perhaps I will settle for your cell phone number…"
Santana snorted from her place on the floor. Her legs were straight up in the air and leaning against the mattress. Brittany giggled, and they were suddenly making out. Quinn and Rachel were too tipsy to realize exactly when Brittany had moved from across their legs and down to the floor, but they didn't particularly care.
"She's…she's joking, right? You do have a cell phone, don't you, Quinn?"
Quinn was already well beyond your standard blush at this point. "It's just… I'm always either out in the field or at my computer researching. A cell phone was never practical."
"Well, I feel like a total creep saying this to you, Quinn, but you're going to have to exchange email addresses with me before you leave. The universe may have brought us together two times, but I'd prefer not to leave our third meeting up to chance." She smiled down at Quinn's beaming face underneath her before climbing astride her waist, dipping her head slowly down, and capturing the other woman's lips in a searing kiss.
When Rachel nearly slipped and fell off the edge of the bed multiple times during their teenage-like, giggle-filled make out session, Quinn tried to blame it on the alcohol. But several hours later – when their collective buzz was no longer anywhere in sight – Quinn came to the conclusion that it was just Rachel's inherent clumsiness as the girl tripped and nearly fell while simply walking to the bathroom. She then ended up stubbing her toe on the jamb of the door, briefly eliciting a muffled howl of pain.
She reassured Quinn several times that "I'm ok! I'm ok!" before Quinn rolled back over, snuggling her face into the pillow Rachel's head had just vacated. A smile engulfed her facial features, and Quinn knew that leaving in the morning wasn't the end of whatever exactly this craziness was. It was just the beginning of the next chapter in their story, the story that had begun at Loch Ness.
Their second goodbye was just as bittersweet as the first. But Quinn took comfort in knowing that the key to contacting Rachel resided on a piece of paper in her luggage. She took comfort knowing that something in her life – perhaps finally – was certain. Or at least, as certain as things such as love can be.
Back home – after all of the equipment was unloaded, cleaned, and stored in its appropriate locations – Quinn sat down at her computer. She quickly consulted her calendar and made note of the location and dates of their next expedition before emailing the information to Rachel. And before she turned her computer off to go plop down on her bed and sleep for at least two days straight, she made a goddamned facebook profile.
A/N: At least six cryptids to go! Who will they search for next? Bigfoot? Chupacabra? Ogopogo? Jersey Devil? Another legendary creature entirely?
…No, seriously. Who will they search for next? Because I have no idea. Suggestions clearly welcome!