AN: Thank you to those two who reviewed the last chapter :D and for those who added this story to watch/ favorite. Totally motivated me to crank out more.
"This is stupid," Finn said as he watched Rachel flutter about their secret lair. The entire room was covered in clothes.
"Your face is stupid," she responded, grabbing a blue sweater from the top of the nearest pile. She held it up to herself, glancing in the full body mirror.
"What about this one?"
"Too blue. And seriously, Rach, this is possibly the stupidest idea you've ever had. And that's including that time you tried to sink Australia."
She tossed the blue sweater aside, instead grabbing at a seafoam green tank top and holding it up to herself.
"I resent that. I had a completely justifiable reason for that endeavour."
"Which was?"
"I didn't like their attitude."
Finn rolled his eyes.
"Whatever. That- that doesn't even compare to how stupid this idea is!"
Rachel pouted.
"You said you wanted me to start dating."
"Yeah, dating criminals! I didn't mean you should try to date a D.E.B.!"
Rachel scoffed, tugging her shirt off in exchange for the tank. Finn looked away, blushing.
"But I think she might be the one," she murmured through the fabric, pulling it down and staring in the mirror. Finn scoffed, glancing back at her now that she was covered.
"You don't even know her yet!"
Rachel turned on him, her face set in that determined way that almost always spelled disaster.
"Exactly. That is precisely why I must get to know her. You and I both know that one cannot judge a person by the first encounter. I mean, look at us."
Finn looked sheepish at that. She was right, of course. The first time Finn and Rachel had met, she'd been robbing a bank that he was guarding. At the time, Finn was a rent-a-cop. Not a very good one, but a cop none the less. And the day Rachel highjacked an armoured bank car, Finn had been taking an unauthorized nap in the back atop all the money. Rachel had been quite surprised to discover him when she returned home. They had a fairly angry word exchange before Finn realized that he was in a hopeless situation. He figured she'd kill him. She surprised him, then, when she offered him a job.
It hadn't taken much (or any) convincing to get Finn to switch sides, and he had been her faithful sidekick/best friend ever since.
"Okay, yeah, Rachel, maybe some people aren't what you first think they are, but Quinn Fabray? She is!"
Rachel scoffed, fixing her make up in the mirror and trying to ignore the pessimistic energy coming off of Finn. He would have none of that, however, as he grabbed her shoulder dramatically.
"I got Artie to look into her. She's not just any D.E.B., okay? She's THE D.E.B. She's the Perfect Score! Perfect Score's don't date diamond thieves!"
Rachel ran a brush through her hair, smiling at her reflection. She looked good. Real good.
"We'll see about that."
Quinn yawned as she moved about the laundry room, throwing dirty clothes in the wash. It was late, but this was the only time she ever had to get her laundry done. Sleep was overrated anyway.
Knowing that her teammates had long since been asleep, Quinn slowly started humming. She never sang around them, ever, as displaying any interest in anything unrelated to D.E.B. work would reflect poorly on her. So it was only late at night when she was alone that she endulged in one of her loves. After a few more moments, she began to sing.
"Give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away..."
"You're really good," a voice said from behind her. Quinn jumped, her head slamming against the top of the washing machine she'd been leaning into. She pulled herself out, clutching her head in pain as she turned to find one grinning Rachel Berry standing before her.
"What-" she tried, but struggled to say more in her disorientation.
"Dobie Gray, right? Classic. I'm a bit of a music aficionado myself. If I weren't already such a fantastic thief, I might even consider pursuing a career in musi-"
"What are you doing here?" Quinn shouted, then covered her mouth quickly, not wanting to wake the neighborhood.
Rachel beamed.
"I came to see you."
It had actually been quite an ordeal, breaking into the D.E.B. house. Rachel had been forced to scale an impressive wall, cut her way through a strangely plaid force field, carefully cross a minefield, suction-cup climb her way up two stories, and then jimmy the lock off of Quinn's bedroom window. And then, of course, she had to wander around until she found Quinn in the laundry room. It was all rather exhausting. To be quite honest, she wouldn't object to taking a moment to breathe.
But she didn't have a moment, as Quinn was there and watching her and Rachel had to act now before she alerted the rest of the house. Rachel took slow, calculated steps towards her. Quinn's eyes widened in alarm.
"We're leaving," Rachel announced, smirking at the blonde. Quinn stood tall, staring her down.
"I don't think so."
Rachel smiled broadly, continuing her advance.
"That's cute how you think you have a choice."
Quinn lashed out then, striking at Rachel's face. It missed by only inches, thanks to the thief's quick movements as she tore away and threw a kick at Quinn. Quinn caught her leg, twisting it and forcing the girl down on her knees. Rachel yanked free and swept her legs out, bringing her down as well. They struggled against each other, blocking and punching and kicking, none of their hits really landing.
It's at that moment that Quinn spots the crossbow peaking out of Brittany's laundry basket which, honestly, isn't even a surprise. It would be more unusual in this household for there not to be a medieval weapon stashed amongst the undergarments. She glanced at Rachel, but the girl's eyes were on the crossbow as well. Crap.
She leapt for it at the exact same moment Rachel did, the two colliding in a desperate scramble. There were punches and laundry flying all about as the two scuffled, rolling and tangled on the floor. Quinn flailed blindly, striking at whatever she could, praying she would feel the cool metal of the crossbow in her hands.
And then she found herself on her back, the other girl straddling her hips and pressing the crossbow to her stomache. Laundry fluttered silently to the ground around them.
Damn.
"Looks like we're two to zero, Quinn Fabray," Rachel panted, smiling deviously down on her once-again captive. Quinn huffed, trying to catch her breath.
"I'll get you next time."
Rachel smirked down at the panting girl beneath her, resting her free hand beside Quinn's head. She leaned down, her face just inches from the other girl, smiling when she saw Quinn's eyes flutter. She whispered against her lips,
"Let's go."
And without anymore preamble she marched the girl out of the house and out to Quinn's car. Quinn didn't even ask when the girl pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. This was Rachel Berry, after all. Why would she not have a set of keys to Quinn's car? Rachel moved quickly, shoving her in and running to the driver's side. Without a word she started the car and drove off, the crossbow in her hand pressed to Quinn's side.
The car was silent for a few minutes.
"Where are we going, guys?" Brittany asked, popping up in the backseat. Quinn screamed and Rachel swerved off the road for a few moments.
"Where the hell did you come from?" Rachel shouted, staring at the girl in the rearview mirror. Brittany, unfazed, just mumbles,
"I sleep walk sometimes. I usually wake up on the roof... or sometimes at Chuck E. Cheese."
They just stared at the blonde in silence for a few moments before Rachel stopped the car completely.
"Get out."
"Alright!" Quinn chirped, starting to open her door. The lock clicked shut on the passenger side and she felt the crossbow press harder against her side.
"Nice try. I meant her," she said, gesturing towards Brittany. There was no way she was letting this girl ruin her night with Quinn.
"Get out!"
Brittany, who never responds well to shouting, pouted, her lower lip trembling as she struggled to open the door.
"Now look what you did!" Quinn said, gesturing towards the sniffling girl.
"You're making her cry!" Brittany continued to struggle with the door as a tear slipped, but she was unable get it to open. Rachel sat, horrified, her mouth opening and closing for a few moments.
"I didn't... I mean... look, don't- don't cry! It's okay! You can stay! Really, it's okay." Rachel couldn't even believe what she was saying. She wanted this girl to leave, not stay! But damn it, she'd always been a sucker for tears.
Brittany beamed at her then, wiping her eyes with her sleeve and settling into her seat. Rachel started the car up again with a sigh, now driving her two passengers off into the night.
"Good, 'cause the child's lock on this door is ridiculous."
Quinn glanced back at the door.
"Brit, that door isn't even locked."
"Oh."
Quinn, who assumed they were being taken to some dark and evil lair to be tortured, was surprised when they pulled up to a seemingly safe night club. She stared at Rachel skeptically, but the girl just ordered her to get out of the car.
Rachel dragged the two girls into the club by their wrists, determined to keep her carefully mapped plan for tonight on track. Spotting Finn by the bar, she pulled her hostages through the crowd towards him.
She shoved Brittany into him, forcing him to catch her lest they both tumble over.
"Watch this," she ordered before dragging Quinn in the other direction. Quinn glanced back in concern, watching Brittany and Finn stare at each other blankly.
"Hi," Finn said slowly. Brittany beamed.
"Hi there. Do you want to see my new yo-yo?"
At that, Finn beamed.
"Hell yeah I do!"
Quinn stared out at the dancers in the center of the club, refusing to meet Rachel's eyes. The girl had been rambling on about death rays for nearly twenty minutes. Quinn took another sip of her drink, sighing.
She had no idea what to make of Rachel Berry.
One minute, she was this alluring entity that could take on anything.
The next, she was rambling on in detail about the makings of nuclear weaponry and famous thieves she aspires to be like. She confused Quinn to no end and Quinn had no idea how to handle it.
"-and that's how I came this close to taking over the world," Rachel finished.
"Hmm," Quinn responded, still looking out at the dance floor. Rachel sighed, running a hand through her hair.
"I.. I'm sorry. I can go off on tangents sometimes. I'm just not really good at this whole, you know, dating thing."
Quinn stiffened up instantly.
"W-what do you mean dating thing?"
A seductive look crossed Rachel's face as she narrowed her eyes at her.
"This," she said, gesturing at the two of them and the night club they were in. "This whole dating thing."
All of the color drained from Quinn's face.
"This is not a date!"
Rachel giggled, taking a long sip of her drink.
"If you say so, Quinn..."
Quinn turned away, her face turning red at Rachel's words. This was not a date. She had been kidnapped. Forced to come. This was not a date.
"So, have you always wanted to be a D.E.B.?" Rachel asked suddenly, remembering Finn's advise: stop talking about yourself and listen!
Quinn eyed her suspiciously at the sudden topic change, though her D.E.B.S. training soon took over as she recited the monologue she'd been taught since day one.
"Well, it is such an honor to be a part of the program and I certainly appreciate all of the opportunities it presen-"
"Stop," Rachel interrupted, shaking her head, "I don't need your press release, Quinn. This isn't a test or anything. I just want to know if this is the life you always wanted, you know?"
Quinn stared at her, uncertain. Everyone always wanted the 'press release', as she so delicately put it. Every question was a test. Always. No one had ever genuinely wanted to know her feelings or opinions. They always just accepted her pre-planned answer and forced smile, accepting that she was the two dimensional Perfect Score. She wasn't entirely sure how to respond to this situation and her first instincts told her to keep up her facade, but one look at the honest curiousity in Rachel's eyes convinced her to try the truth for a change. She gulped back the rest of her drink before answering.
"I mean, no, not really, I guess. The whole D.E.B.S. thing just sort of happened, really," she said, not meeting Rachel's eyes.
"It's kind of stupid, really, but I always dreamed of doing something in music and singing. Not anything major, or anything, maybe even just being a music teacher. There was even a school I was gonna go to that specialized in music education majors but, you know, the whole D.E.B.S thing happened, and, well... yeah..." she trailed off into silence, her face flushing red with embarassment. How stupid could she be, going off on a rant like that? She never talked about the music school, not with anyone. Put your game face on, she thought to herself. You're slipping.
"I don't think it's stupid at all," Rachel chirped in suddenly. Quinn stared at her with uncertainty, studying the brunette to see if she was lying, but the girl just smiled at her.
"Well, your voice could use a little work, as it is a bit sharp, but you certainly have the potential to teach music." And then she flashed her a genuine smile that melted Quinn's heart in an instant.
"Yeah but it's kind of pathetic, right?" Quinn shifted in discomfort, not at all used to people actually supporting her dreams. She could practically hear Santana's voice in her head. Music? Really, Quinn? You would throw away all of this for music?
"I mean, going from being a D.E.B. to a music teacher? Not exactly a step up." These weren't even her words, not really. She was regurgitating everything she's been told since the day she took the SAT.
Someone with your potential shouldn't waste their time teaching showtunes to a bunch of achne ridden neanderthals, Ms. Sylvester had said.
Kurt had scoffed at her the one time she mentioned it to him. Whatever you say. Just don't come crying back to us when you get bored teaching thirteen olds their chords.
Even Brittany didn't understand her dreams. Maybe you can sing to the bad guys while we're arresting them. That's kinda the same thing, right?
"I disagree," Rachel said, her face and tone completely serious. "I believe that if you have a dream, even if it's something seemingly minute and simple, than there would be nothing greater than to achieve it."
Quinn stared at her in shock, her mouth slightly agape. No one had ever told her anything like that. Success was something you could carefully measure, it was never relative. How could this girl be so radically different, so unlike anything Quinn had ever seen? Quinn felt almost light-headed at the thought. This was all overwhelming her.
"Yeah, well, you might be the only person in the world that thinks that."
Rachel scoffed.
"So? Who cares what anyone else thinks? It's your life, Quinn. Not theres. Don't let them decide what you do with it. If you want to sing, sing."
She spoke so softly and sweetly that Quinn could almost feel tears building in her eyes. This was too much. She turned away, looking for a distraction from this surprisingly serious moment. Her eyes fell on the gyrating bodies a few feet away. That would definitely be a distraction.
"Wanna dance?" she asked in a soft voice. Rachel's smile only grew as she nodded fiercely and dragged the other girl from their booth to the dance floor.
"Not to brag, but I also happen to excel at dancing. I actually took dance for eighteen years, you know. In fact, if I weren't already a phenomenal thief-"
"Just dance, you freak," Quinn said, cutting her off with a laugh, pulling the girl towards her as she began to sway to the beat. Rachel just nodded, her hands resting on Quinn's hips. The two moved together, their bodies pressing against each others. They danced song after song, hips and legs and arms brushing. This was a good distraction, Quinn decided. She couldn't handle thinking about her future or her dreams, but she could definitely handle dancing.
Rachel smiled at her, a genuine smile that struck Quinn in a way she didn't even want to think about. The thief pulled her into her arms as the song slowed, subtly sliding her hands into Quinn's back pockets.
"Watch it, Berry," Quinn warned half-heartedly, her own arms wrapped around the girl's neck as they swayed. Rachel giggled, curling her hands in the pockets and nuzzling Quin neck affectionately, the slow dance song blasting through the stereos encircling them. Warm, tingling feelings start dancing through her stomache at the close contact. And suddenly dancing with the thief, who had announced not even twenty minutes before that she considered this a 'date', didn't seem so smart after all. Quinn realized then, as Rachel's lips brushed her neck, that her distraction plan had backfired.
Majorly backfired.
Rachel seemed to sense the change between them as well, as she slowly pulled back to look Quinn in the eyes, her own eyes a darker shade than Quinn had ever seen. Their noses brushed, breaths mingling, and Quinn saw Rachel's eyes flick down to her lips.
Quinn gulped, pulling away.
"I, uh, have to go to the washroom," she shouted over the music before taking off, desperate to put distance between herself and this dangerous situation. She practically sprinted to the bathroom.
She stood with a death grip on the sink, staring at her reflection. She had spent the last minute rubbing water on her face, trying to lessen the heat there. Now she just stood, staring at her dripping face in the mirror.
You have a boyfriend, her inner voice chimed.
"I know," she whispered.
She's the enemy.
"I know."
She's a girl.
"I know, dammit!" she shouted, slamming her hands on the counter in frustration. This wasn't supposed to happen. Too many years have been spent working dilligently towards her future. There was no way she would throw it away for, what? A crazy midget thief? A career as a music teacher?
Love?
The bathroom door slamming against the tiled wall jerked her from her musings, and she watched in the mirror as Rachel entered, her face set in an unreadable expression. Quinn slowly turned around.
They watched each other in silence for a moment, their eyes locked, before Rachel began moving forward.
Quinn met her half-way, their lips colliding. Rachel was propelled back into the bathroom door, slamming it shut.
The shorter girl clung to her as Quinn's hands ran down her chest before sliding up and under her shirt. Hands tugged at the blonde's hair as her teeth nipped at her throat, shoving her back against the door again. The whiny, breathless little noises Rachel was making made Quinn incoherent, unable to focus on anything but touch and taste and oh, Rachel's hands were sliding up her thighs.
Rachel pushed, walking Quinn backwards while their tongues met, forcing her away from the door and towards the sinks. She slammed her against the nearest stall, her knee between the other girl's legs causing Quinn to whimper into her mouth. A few more moments were spent there, grinding against the stall, before Rachel was moving her again.
She couldn't help but moan as Rachel pushed her back onto the counter, quickly stepping between her legs. Quinn clung desperately to her, her hands alternating between gripping her shirt and tugging at her hair as Rachel's mouth pressed to her lips, her jaw, her collarbone, the top of her tank top...
"Guys," a voice called from behind them, causing them to jump apart. They stood frozen in place, panting and terrified. Quinn gaped at the wide and innocent eyes of Brittany, who stood in the doorway.
"Santana called and she's, like, freaking out. She asked where we were, but don't worry. I didn't tell her we were out with Rachel and Finn. I came up with a good cover. But she said if we weren't home in an hour, she'd come looking for us. So, uh, I'll be in the car I guess."
And with that Brittany was gone, leaving two panting, mussed up, and uncomfortable women in her wake.
Rachel was the first to recover, as she quickly began smoothing her shirt back down over her belly button. Quinn just remained frozen, staring at the bathroom door in horror.
"Quinn?" Rachel said before clearing the husk out of her voice. Quinn's eyes turned to Rachel's, only to grow wider at the sight of the girl before her: glazed eyes, clothes in disarray, and hair that screamed sex. Quinn felt a wave of arousal hit her, closely followed by a wave of horror.
She had just been making out with Rachel Berry.
Rachel Berry the diamond thief, the same one she was supposed to be hunting.
And Brittany had walked in on them.
Without a word she pushed from the counter, racing past the flustered Rachel and out the door. She could hear the thief calling her name, but she didn't stop to think until she was driving the car out of the parking lot, Brittany happily humming beside her.
Quinn gulped, flexing her grip on the wheel a few times, trying to build up her courage.
"Brittany," Quinn started as she drove the two home. "About what you saw back there..."
Brittany just smiled, shaking her head.
"Oh, it's fine, Q. I know you were just practicing."
Quinn frowned, unsure of what she meant.
"Practicing?"
"Yeah, like for when you get with boys and stuff. That's what Santana always tells me, you know, that we do that kind of stuff together to practice. She says it's very important to be prepared."
Quinn had no idea how to respond to that, so she just turned her eyes back to the road, driving in silent contemplation as Brittany softly sang,
"One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish..."
Santana was waiting for them when they arrived.
"Where the hell have you two been?" she snapped, tugging Brittany to her and giving the girl a once over, checking for injuries.
"Out. Like Brittany said," Quinn said in a monotone voice, far too tired and confused to even think of a better response.
"You really expect me to believe that the two of you were out feeding ducks at three in the morning?"
Quinn felt the urge to press her face into her palm. This was the reason Brittany should never be allowed to make up cover stories.
"Look I was stressing out over all this Berry stuff and needed a cigarette. Brittany wanted to come with me."
Santana pulled back then, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Well well, little miss Perfect Score smokes? Guess you aren't as perfect as they say."
Quinn let out a shuddering sigh, pushing past the two girls and heading towards the door. She pretended not to notice the way Santana fawned over Brittany, still checking the girl for any injuries.
"You have no idea..."