Hey guys! Thank you for the reviews, the suggestions, and the followers! Much appreciated! I hope you enjoy...
x-leanmean
"Bye Quinn," a cast member waves as she walks past her table towards the side door. "Don't work too late."
"I'll try my best," Quinn says with a smile, packing the rest of the video camera gear into its travel case. She hears the stage lights shut off as she hoists the bag onto her shoulder and picks up her camera, turning to follow the girl out. Working this late on a Thursday is going to make for one hell of a Friday morning, especially since she has to finish the video tonight. Checking her cell phone, she notes the time. 2:26 AM.
But then again, the front lights are probably still up and running, and she wouldn't mind getting a few good photographs of the business sign at night to finish off her layout. Bypassing the door, she curves through the backstage and into the house, nodding good bye to straggling bartenders as she exits the front door. A full breath of cool night air rejuvenates her a little as Quinn adjusts the strap on her shoulder and brings the camera to her eye, angling it towards the roof.
Perfect.
The soft glow of the gold bulbs and blacklight against the night sky, her inner photographer sighs in satisfaction. This would fit perfectly in the background of the layout she had arranged yesterday. Something to check off the list. She had gotten a lot accomplished tonight on the video, too, with certain distractions not present... right, not focusing on her. Raising the camera to her eye, she refocuses, literally and figuratively.
Now to capture some of this brick for a little more industrial approach...
The breeze rustles down the street, blowing the tips of her hair lightly against the back of her neck, scuttling loose paper down the sidewalk. The hollow clink of a glass bottle knocked into the side of the brick building stops Quinn in mid-click. Holding perfectly still, she watches the alley to her left out of her peripheral, studying the darkness for movement. Why would someone be out this late? Seeing nothing, she snaps the last picture without looking and makes a show of slipping the lens cover back on the camera, her eyes never leaving the black emptiness nestled between the bar and the building next door.
Maybe it's just a cat.
Slipping her keys out of the side of her video gear bag she walks nonchalantly towards the opposite alley, picking up pace when she's around the corner. Glancing over her shoulder, she presses the unlock button on her key fob, headlights blinking way ahead on the single, lonely car sitting in the club parking lot.
Had to take pictures tonight, huh.
She slips the camera into the bag on her shoulder.
Couldn't have just waited until tomorrow night when there would be people everywhere, Quinn.
The scuff of a shoe on the black top behind her leaves all thoughts of appearance behind. Safety behind the lock of the car door is her only thought as she breaks into a run, the echo of her heels pounding mercilessly against the ground, bouncing off the walls with the sound of some other's chasing recklessly behind her.
Too close.
Ripping her car door open, Quinn throws herself in.
"Please dont break," she adds, tossing her gear onto the passenger side floor as she slams the door and locks it, shoving her keys in the ignition.
The car fires into life as Quinn breathes a quick sigh of relief, checking the rear view mirror.
Made it.
The pass of a shadow over her back window twists her face in fear as a figure moves in front of the car, stepping into the headlights.
The laughter that bubbles out of Quinn surprises even herself as Rachel stands there, her hair windblown and cheeks tinted pink. Annoyance is clearly evident on her face, the hands on her hips, and the slow tapping toe on what appears to be a broken heel.
Oh boy.
Quinn motions her around the car, clicking the unlock sheepishly. Instead of going to the passenger's side, Rachel marches to Quinn's door, rips it open and huffs.
"My god you should have ran track in high school."
Quinn's second round of laughter is cut off firmly as Rachel's lips melt into hers, the warmth of her palm pressing into the hollow of Quinn's chest, forcing her up and into the passenger's seat. Her legs tangle in Rachel's across the driver's seat as she crawls in after her. Quinn calls out as her head hits the glass, Rachel's fingers raking up the back of her neck and into her hair. Before the warmth that is Rachel mushes her brain, Quinn kicks off her heels and reaches with her foot for the door handle, pulling it deftly shut. Rachel laughs when she reaches to press the lock button.
"What?" Quinn says, grinning at the mega watt smile on Rachel's face. "I was just stalked in the night. I'm a little shaken up."
Rachel pushes a blonde hair away from Quinn's face and chuckles. "Quinn, I said your name like twenty times. You just couldn't hear it over the sound of an Olympic sprinter in heels."
Quinn scoffs, rolling her eyes as she folds her hands in the small of Rachel's back. "What person is out roaming the streets at two in the morning Rachel."
"Couldn't sleep, wanted to see you." Pressing a quick kiss to her collar bone, Rachel snuggles into her. "Plus you're precious with your camera, so I couldn't not watch. And we were kind of interrupted yesterday before I could get your phone number to tell you I was coming."
Quinn grumbles death threats for Santana against the top of Rachel's head, relishing in the scent of her shampoo.
"I suppose that's true. Stalking forgiven." Quinn strokes the soft leather of Rachel's coat, moving her butt to try to find a comfortable spot on the emergency brake. "You know, Rach, I have this thing called an apartment. We could go there and do this."
Rachel raises her head, gasping, her mouth open in shock. "Quinn Fabray I am not easy!"
Quinn chuckles, wrapping her arms around the smaller girl.
"Hey you said it, not me." Kissing the top of her head, she pulls herself out from under Rachel until she is sitting in the passenger's seat, Rachel pouting from the driver's. "I was thinking we could actually, oh I don't know, talk for once. I mean I have some work I have to do too, but it would be nice to see you. In a place where I can chain you in and you have no escape."
Rachel smirks, her hands moving to put on the seat belt. She clicks it in place and looks up at the blonde, cracking her fingers dramatically.
"Where to, madam?"
"Uhh don't you want to take your car?"
Rachel looks over her shoulder as she backs out, shrugging.
"Took the subway. Shouldn't invite me over if you don't want me to take your car and leave immediately." Quinn chuckles, clicking her own seat belt on.
"You're a strange person, Rachel."
"Do I make it better or worse if I say you had me at 'I can chain you in?'" Quinn cheeks heat at the picture in her mind, her eyes glazing over. Rachel chuckles throatily, pulling up to the street as the blonde sits mutely beside her.
"I thought as much. Hey Quinn, directions would be good..." Rachel studies the girl sitting broken beside her. "Any time now..."
Quinn clears her throat, shaking her head.
"Uhhhh left. Take a left, Rachel."
Rachel smiles as Quinn flips on the radio and watches out the window as the cars pass by, the low glow of the stereo light shining on their intertwined hands.
Rachel feels a little more at home at Quinn's than she had expected.
Watching the blonde work over the kitchen table, biting her lip as she edits her film in yoga pants and a sweater, her heart melts. She sips her hot chocolate and stirs Quinn's at the counter before carrying both over to the table with a bag of cookies tucked under her arm.
"Madam."
"Thanks," Quinn replies, smiling up at her as she wraps her hands around the mug. "Mmmm you nailed hot chocolate. Adding that to the list of positives."
Rachel chuckles, settling into the seat across from her and slipping her feet up into the blonde's lap.
"I hadn't realized we were keeping track."
Quinn snorts, clicking away on her computer. "I'm Quinn Fabray. Of course I keep track."
"Hmmm.." Rachel murmurs, dipping a chocolate chip cookie into her mug. "How's the numbers look so far?"
Looking at her over the computer screen, Quinn pushes the glasses up on her nose.
"You're having a good quarter." Rachel rolls her eyes, running her fingers through her hair as Quinn massages her feet. "I think I'll hold on to my stock a little longer."
"Be still my heart," Rachel replies, reaching to tap the top of the laptop. "So how exactly did you go from head cheerleader to editor in chief? I suppose it's not that far of a jump really, but this isn't what I had picture for young Quinn Fabray."
"It's not where I pictured myself either, to be honest." She says, clicking her mouse. "I actually started as a photography intern at Lush and one thing led to another and here I am, writing, both fortunately and unfortunately."
Rachel quirks an eyebrow, sipping her cocoa. When she first saw Quinn at the club she seemed happy as ever, wildly successful and beautiful; she had never pegged her as dissatisfied.
"How so?"
Shrugging, Quinn smiles and reaches to grip the mug in both her hands.
"Well, I'm fortunate because I have a really good job that I usually enjoy and that I'm quite talented at. And I'm unfortunate because it's not necessarily what I'm passionate about... some days I just feel like, man, I wish I had done what I love instead of what I'm loved for, you know?"
"Hmm," Rachel nods thoughtfully, crunching on a cookie. "I feel that way about my voice sometimes. I mean I love to sing, but I wonder how many people like me for me, and not just for the sound that comes out of my mouth."
Quinn nods, dunking a cookie in her cocoa. "Exactly. Like if I stopped tracking down crazy good stories, I sure wouldn't be the God I am now at the office. Sometimes I feel like my reputation for producing the good stuff is all that keeps me around that place. People love to read the junk I write, and usually, it's just stories I happen upon... like the club for instance. Brittany told me about it."
"So you wouldn't have just gone to the Black Cat on your own?"
Quinn scoffs, her eyes back on her monitor.
"I never do anything outside of work, Rachel. I'm kind of boring."
"Oh, you're not boring."
Rolling her eyes, Quinn pushes a cookie across the table to the brunette.
"It's bad enough I have to work while you're here, let's not talk about it or me anymore. What about you? Where have you been Rachel?"
Rachel can't help the grin that sneaks across her face at Quinn's choice of words. So, she knows I've been off the Broadway stage, huh...
"After college I got lucky and landed a spot on Broadway right off. Course it wasn't a lead, but it was still wonderful. And then I did get the lead in Mama Mia last year and that show was... so perfect." Rachel stumbles over her words, her eyes welling at the intense need she feels, even thinking about it, for the stage and the people she'd grown so close to. "It was really just... a life changing part." She concludes, smirking at the irony. Yes, her life had changed tremendously from that musical...especially the part where she walked home after it. Fluttering quietly under Quinn's scrutiny, Rachel could practically hear her taking notes in her head.
"So then why did you quit?"
"Quit?"
"Yeah, Rachel." Quinn says, pushing her laptop to the side. "I used to watch your name cut through our entertainment column every week. You were a rising star. Why would you quit?"
Pausing, Rachel leans her head to the side.
Quinn practically hands her the ideal time to spill everything and oh, how she wishes she could. Just to get it off her chest.. to share it with someone else..
But no, that wouldn't be fair. Quinn would take this story and she would... help her. She would publish it and get the public on Rachel's side and yes, people would finally stand up to Vincent Maroney. Maybe they would feel empowered and come to stand beside Rachel in court on that day. Maybe they would even testify the horrors Maroney has committed on their loved ones or strangers alike. But in the back of her mind, all Rachel can hear is the Witness Protection agent's voice...you're the only one left, Rachel. She's it. All of the other witnesses have been killed. How could she risk other people putting themselves in this danger when she doesn't want to be... when she's too weak to handle it, but Quinn... Quinn wouldn't hesitate to step forward and put herself on the line, writing something in the most read magazine in America about a murderer like it's no big deal. She'd be lucky if she made it to the end of the week! And as quick as Quinn would sacrifice herself for her, Rachel knew, watching the blonde smile and reach to pat her hand, that she would surrender herself in the blonde's place just as fast. If not telling her kept her safe; if not telling her kept only Rachel's name on Maroney's most wanted list... then that's what she would do.
Rachel sighs, pushing her hair behind her ear.
"I just needed a break for... personal reasons. I hope to get back to it soon, but I feel like I've gotten a ... better perspective on life, in my absence."
Nodding, hazel eyes study her as she reaches self consciously for her lukewarm cocoa. This was her weight to bear.
"Well, I hope you get back to it soon." Quinn says, gripping both of Rachel's hands in her own. "You light up the stage when you're on it, Rach. Truly, it's breathtaking."
Rolling her eyes, Rachel swats at Quinn's hand and tries to ignore the butterflies beating against her insides.
"Oh geez. How about we stop talking about both of us, and instead," she says, tapping the laptop with her fingertip. "You share your little project."
Quinn beams like a proud child, flipping the monitor towards her.
"Do you want to see? I just finished so you can give me feedback!"
Before Rachel can respond Quinn hits play and giggles, the background flashing still pictures of the club. Quinn's voice cuts in as video footage rolls.
In a city that never sleeps, standing out can be a challenge. Everyone's been there, done that. But here at the Black Cat, real animals come out to play. Every night a different show, every week a different theme; nothing at the Black Cat is ever the same twice. How does the newest club in town become the hottest virtually over night? How will they keep people coming when, really, they only have one thing to offer? I'm Quinn Fabray and today's the day, we get the answers. Welcome to the Black Cat, insider's edition.
Rachel smiles as the footage rolls on, showing the girls sweating at rehearsal, Brittany's smiling face as she describes choreography, and a spur of the moment water fight with Patti's voice over it, advising on how freedom to create is important with Broadway stars. Rachel laughs as Quinn is dressed in a Burlesque costume then hums in interest as she's given a one-on-one lesson with the light crew on how to add emotion to the stage show. It's impressive, the way Quinn captures both the drive and the delight of the business, how everyone works hard but plays hard too. It's also adorable how Quinn watches her watching the video, gauging her face for reaction. Rachel feels herself blush as the screen fades to a clip of her belting out a love ballad.
Witness Protection is really going to hate her when this get released Saturday, but by then, she'd be long gone from the club.
With Broadway's hottest stars shoving each other out of the way to get a chance at this stage, it was only a matter of time before the city caught on. Is it as high class as other places? No. Does it have great food? Only if chips count. But night after night, people are turned away at the door, drawn to the bright lights and passionate people who work here, who play here, and who make this club a true diamond in the rough. Did I learn a lot delving into the Black Cat the past week? Of course! I learned about choreography and song interpretation. I learned the secrets behind house drinks and good lighting. I had hundreds of conversations with some of the industry's best, past and present. But what I will carry with me after this experience has long passed is the look in the eye of the performers right before they go on stage. The quiet smile that plays on their lips as they do what they love simply because they love it.
Rachel feels a tear run down her cheek as the video cuts to its final scene, a clip of her, the girls, and Patti laughing outrageously sitting on the edge of the stage side by side, their heads back and shoulders shaking.
For those of us who haven't found our inspiration, this place is a darn good start. The Black Cat is bawdy and raw, but it's also beautiful. They're successful because they do whatever they want, and they do it well. I can't thank them enough for the experiences they've given me this past week. And to you, the readers, I've got just one thing to say: this baby purrs like no other. Go to the Black Cat this week and check it out. If the show is sold out, go next week, and the week after, and the week after that until you get in. In a city of has-been's and been-done's, we have finally found something worth standing up for, so we had better do it. Some things are just too good to waste. Thank you for joining me on my first inside edition, I hope you've enjoyed the ride. This is Quinn Fabray, signing off.
"So?"
Rachel wipes at her cheeks with her palms and closes the laptop, sliding it back towards Quinn, whose face is glowing under the single light over the table.
She's right. Some things really are too good to waste.
"I love it."
Quinns smiles, reaching for Rachel's fingers.
"Really? It's not too cliche?"
"Really. You nailed the atmosphere, plus it was fun and informative... even a little touching. Obviously." She adds, gesturing towards her tears.
"I mean it's not perfect yet-"
Rachel squeezes Quinn's hand, standing up to move to sit in her lap as the blonde pushes her glasses up her nose again.
"Quinn." She says, plopping down on her legs. "It's perfect."
"Well it will be when-"
"Quinn." Rachel adds, raising an eyebrow as hazel eyes meet hers.
"Yeah?"
Pushing the hair away from Quinn's face, Rachel smiles down at her. Some moments are just too good to waste as well.
"I said it's perfect. Now stop talking and kiss me."
Picking Rachel up and laying her across the kitchen table, Quinn crawls on top and does exactly that, with no further interruptions.
The house couldn't hold another body if it tried. Rachel chuckles from behind the curtain as she watches Quinn grimace, squeezing between two sweaty guys en route to Santana at their table. Patti sold out the last admission two hours prior to the first act and the cast was buzzing with excitement, fluttering around backstage in feather boas and silk stockings. After the video aired tomorrow, this place would be like this for months.
Rachel presses her palm against the quiver in her abdomen as Quinn's throaty chuckle carries across the stage to her. She had hoped the girl would come, after all the extra work she put into having two acts in tonight's show, but now that she is both here and front and center, Rachel feels just a touch queasy.
Of course, never from nerves… anticipation then, it must be. Her first solo act! And also her last, until after the trial at least.
Spying the band gathering back in their alcove, Rachel turns, adjusts the open collar of her button up shirt, and moves to her spot behind the curtain, the backstage lights flashing the one minute warning. As the violins begin the opening rhythm of The Veronicas Untouched, a slinky smile dawns on her face.
She loves to perform, but to do something for someone special... it's a new adrenaline she could get used to.
Shimmying her shoulders with the beat, the curtain starts to raise, red lights silhouetting her from behind, a single moving shadow on the stage.
Strutting forward, Rachel wraps her hands around a mike on a stand, leans her lips against it, and rasps into the first verse. She fights the urge to smile as the crowd goes wild, wolf whistling as she pulls the top of her shirt to the side, running her fingers along her bare collar bone. Her eyes find Quinn's leading into the chorus, smouldering under the weight of her watching and the sultry smirk that plays on the blonde's lips.
I feel so untouched and I want you so much that I just can't resist you, it's not enough to say that I miss you
She turns towards the back to pick up her prop and Brittany slides her a simple black chair from backstage instead. Alright, improv! Feeling the burn of Quinn's stare on her leather clad back side, Rachel bites her lip at Brittany before smiling and pulling the chair behind her to the center. Moving back to the mike, her fingers play with the buttons of her shirt. As she starts into the second verse, the first button slips through its hole, revealing the top of her black lace bra.
By the beginning of the second chorus, her shirt is open and Quinn is blushing, her eyes tracing the trail of sweat between Rachel's breasts.
Rachel shivers a little. She's never been so... forward... with someone as she is with Quinn. But she can't escape it, the pull she feels towards the girl. Strutting back towards the chair, she walks around it, running her finger across the back as the instrument break plays on. As the final chorus begins, she sings along, sitting down in the chair, spreading her legs provocatively as she cups her breasts and slowly runs her hands down her abdomen, along her open thighs. Crossing her legs with a suggestive eyebrow raise she actually hears Quinn choke on her drink as she stands and twirls the chair around her, stepping onto it and down on her way back to the mike stand. As the last words pass her lips the crowd goes wild, slapping their table tops and whistling, and warmth spreads from her face all the way down to her toes.
Bowing, she slips off her shirt and tosses it to Quinn who catches it, shaking her head slowly, the gleam of her teeth as she laughs bright in the stage lights.
Rachel smiles at the sight, content for the first time in a long time with her place in the world.
As the curtain starts to fall she sends a wave and blows a few kisses to the house, laughter bubbling out of her at the guys falling over themselves, pretending to catch them in the air. Another standing near the stage cries, "you looked great in the video but even better in real life!" and Rachel chokes.
Three steps from stage left the men move quickly along the outside of the crowd towards the backstage door, their suits a little too overkill for a night at a bar.
How could anyone have seen the video? It's only... Her steps falter as the first man meets her eyes in the dimming stage light, a glint of purpose there, noticeable even at a distance. A woman stands abruptly in front of him, her chair knocking him towards the wall. His suit jacket slips back, a flash of metal as his gun catches the light, and Rachel gasps.
The video must have aired early.
Brittany pulls her off the stage and into her arms but the tight embrace isn't what's knocked the air out of her.
How could she have been so dumb?
Pushing through the girls Rachel apologizes under her breath, slipping through the tips of their fingers. With a fleeting glance over her shoulder as the stage door bursts open, she hears the gruff yell of a man, bows her head, and runs.
Happy Holidays!