So that finish by New Years goal didn't quite pan out... but here's a new chapter! Hoorah!
x-leanmean
"Nikki Malone speaking."
"I know who you are."
"...I'm sorry, who is this?"
"I'm a friend of yours, if everything goes as it should. I have a little favor to ask."
"I don't do favors."
"Then I have one hell of a story for the New York Times. Let's see how Lush does once people know who runs it. Your choice, Nikki."
"...Tell me what I need to do."
Quinn's first realization is the darkness. Granted her right eye is swollen almost shut, but still, the darkness is all encompassing. It presses down on her from all sides of the cool room, empty except for the heavy rasp of her breathing.
For a second, claustrophobia sets in, but she reconsiders. Better to be alone than to be bleeding.
Doing a quick inventory, she notes that she's still mostly intact and sighs.
This is not the night she had planned at all. Her thoughts draw to Rachel and the darkness in the room becomes a little more bearable. She can imagine Rachel in a serious state of panic right now and chuckles to herself knowing that Santana is probably taking the brunt of it. That Santana would take the brunt of it, for Quinn, because she knew that Rachel is her… girlfriend or…whatever, and will hopefully get the girl out the door with witness protection, as planned, come morning.
Quinn scoffs. Girlfriend.
There isn't a single part of her that she can separate from Rachel now. Her in Quinn's favorite hoodie, curled up with a book in the hallway, too enthralled to make it all the way to the couch. Her at the head of the table, eyes shining over a glass of wine as she laughs with Brittany and Santana. The way she shushes Quinn when her dads call because she wants her to be a surprise, not knowing they've already asked Quinn if she'd come home with Rachel for Christmas. The left side of her mouth tugging up before the right when she smiles. The tears that slide silently down her cheeks when she's caught up in a song. It's like every memory Quinn had had from before Rachel has been rewritten and now she couldn't remember that life at all.
She didn't want to remember that life.
Grinding her teeth, she tugs at her wrists, trying to loosen the rope binding them together. She would gladly die to keep Rachel safe, that wasn't a question. But she'd be damned if she goes down without a fight. She is Quinn Fabray after all. Growling in frustration, she yanks again, then stops, startled by the sound of quick footsteps in the hallway outside. Hanging her head, she feigns unconsciousness and waits.
The door creaks open and shut quickly.
Quinn opens her eyes, knowing she's at least got the advantage of adjusted vision in the dark. The figure walks towards her, the dim electronic glow of a cell phone lighting a path. Quinn feels strangely calm, staring into the light, unable to see the person behind it. The glint of a blade catches her eye as it moves slowly forward and her muscles tighten with anticipation.
So much for putting up a fight.
The knife moves past her body, cutting the ropes at her wrists before moving on to the next. Breathing an inward sigh of relief, she rubs the rope burn gently. Her ankles are cut free and the phone is held up, illuminating both of them in the darkness.
"Boss?"
"Q." Her boss says, slipping the knife closed and back into her suit jacket. "How in the world did you end up here?"
Quinn touches lightly at her face as her boss examines her with the light.
"I think the real question is how did you find me?"
Her boss pauses, weighing Quinn up with her eyes.
"You didn't show up to work this morning."
"And your first thought was kidnapped by the mob?"
Shaking her head with a sigh, her boss pulls Quinn up by the armpits and starts to walk back towards the door.
"No." Quinn says, reaching for her. "Tell me how you knew."
"Rachel called me."
Quinn paused, her eyebrows knitting.
"Why would-"
Her boss turns slowly to face her. The glow of the phone casts shadows across her face, reminding Quinn of stories told around campfires long ago, when things were simpler.
"Because Rachel has been rubbing shoulders with powerful people for a long time. And powerful people know me. So it was either come here voluntarily or she was going to ruin my business, beat the shit out of me, and make a trade for you. She painted a mean picture, I'll be honest, and that's coming from someone with my upbringing."
Quinn furrows her eyebrows, trying to piece together this new information.
"Your upbringing?"
"What's my name, Q?"
"Nikki Malone."
"Remember when you moved here and you wanted to do that big piece on the mob because you thought it would be cool and I told you it was all rumor and myth..."
Quinn watches the woman as she inspects her split eyebrow, licking her thumb and touching it gently.
"Oh yeah the Maroney daughter, Nic-Oh my God you're Nicole Maroney! You've been under my nose the whole time!"
Meeting her eyes solemnly, Nicole shakes her head, snorting.
"Exactly. Some reporter you are. To think I paid you to do this stuff."
Quinn's mind is reeling as her boss brushes the dirt off her slacks and turns back to the door, heels clicking.
"How- Rachel knew?"
"Don't underestimate that woman, Q. Ever." Pausing to open the door quietly, she checks the hallway before shutting it and fishing into her pocket. Her car keys jingle once as she presses them sharply into Quinn's palm, forcing her hand around them with her own.
"Listen to me, Q. This is important." Searching in the low light, Quinn finds Nicole's eyes, staring daggers into her own. "My father's business is not kind and my actions tonight will not go unpunished. No matter what happens, you must keep Rachel safe. She is the only one who can bring him down."
Quinn nods, surprised by the sheer disgust on Nicole's face. In all the hours she'd spent with this woman, learning from her, molding herself in a similar fashion, she'd never noticed the heavy guilt sitting on her shoulders. But here in the basement of her father's house, the tired sadness shrouding her features is all too clear.
"This is between my Dad and Rachel, but in a way, it's between all of us. Her plan, it's good. If we ever want to truly be free again, we have to see this through."
"Boss," Quinn says, reaching for the woman's shoulder. "Come with me. You don't have to do this. I can talk to Rachel."
Nicole smirks, reaching up to squeeze Quinn's hand on her shoulder, but it does little to camouflage the spark of fear in her eyes. "I still have a few cards I need to play in my hand, Quinn. And besides, I'm Daddy's little girl, what's the worst that could happen?"
Quinn breathes quietly, knowing the answer all too well, as she closes her lips together in a tight line. With a curt nod, the women share their moment of kinship then move on to the next. Her boss opens the door and shoves her in one direction as she turns towards the other, her demeanor back to the powerhouse she's used to seeing in the office. Quinn spares a second to smile at the retreating form before slipping down the hallway and up the stairs to the garage they'd dragged her through just a day ago.
It's funny how time in the Maroney house had a habit of standing still. As each footstep took her closer to freedom, Quinn couldn't help but wonder if maybe stillness wasn't such a bad thing right now. What the future would bring was starting to feel a lot more terrifying with each passing hour.
She drives around Santana and Brittany's block no less than forty times before she feels safe enough to enter their parking garage. Hoping with all her being that Rachel had had enough sense about her to not go home after her kidnapping, she sighs in relief when she spots Brittany and Santana's cars side by side in their spots, knowing the only reason the girls would ever skip work is to help Rachel…or to keep her together.
Parking in the guest spot, Quinn pulls a ball cap down low on her face and shrugs on the jacket in the passenger's seat before exiting quickly for the staircase. When she gets to Santana and Brittany's floor she realizes the mob still has her keys and her phone, and she curses loudly.
How is she supposed to get all those contacts again? God damn mob!
Knocking quietly on the door, she hears Santana gasp from the other side of the peep hole before throwing it open and ripping her into the room. The door is shut and dead bolted and then Santana is facing her and opening her arms wide.
"She's here, Q. She's safe."
The first hot tear spills down Quinn's face on reflex as she steps into Santana, trembling in the support of her embrace. Santana squeezes her tightly, resting her cheek against her head as she soothes her with gentle words, and Quinn cries, the worry that's weighed her down all night slowly slipping off her with each tear that falls. She feels Brittany press up against her back and, sandwiched between them, finally lets the exhaustion she's been fighting settle in.
She must have done something right in her life; she sure has some amazing people in it.
"Quinn?"
Speaking of… the somber whisper draws all three's attention as Rachel steps into the doorway at the end of the hallway, falling quietly against the frame with a relieved face and red rimmed eyes.
"Oh Quinn. Thank God."
The tears start fresh as they start towards each other, collapsing together in the middle of the floor. Rachel pushes the blood matted hair away from Quinn's face, touching her face softly with her finger tips.
"My God, what did they do to you."
Quinn chuckles and kisses her deeply, grimacing against the pain in her split lip. She pulls back and sets their foreheads together.
"Here, I thought it was an improvement."
Rachel catches Brittany and Santana slinking off into the kitchen out of the corner of her eye and, giving up all sense of humility, she pushes Quinn back on the floor and crawls on top of her, pressing their bodies together. Chest to chest, she looks down, cupping Quinn's face in her hands and smiles, a full on, mega watt Rachel Berry smile.
"I love you." She says, eliciting a smile from Quinn in return. Tucking a knotted blonde strand of hair behind her ear, Rachel's heart aches at the battered bruises and swelling along her creamy skin. So far so good, but all the things this crazy girl has done for her, she couldn't begin to repay.
But...she would try.
"Marry me."
Quinn chokes beneath her, forcing Rachel off as she turns to cough, her chest heaving. Rachel pounds her back delicately, trying not to hurt her more.
"You don't have to be dramatic Quinn. Just say no!"
"No." Quinn sputters, waving away her hands. Rachel knows the anguish is written all over her face. Of course, no. She would never deserve-
"No- not- Rach!"
Grasping for her wrists, Quinn pulls the brunette with the carefully hidden face towards her.
"No as in not no! Yes! One thousand times, yes!" She adds, pressing Rachel's open palms against her chest. Rachel's eyes well at the feel of her heart beating firmly there against her hands… beating for her. Quinn nods her head enthusiastically, her face splitting into a smile.
"God, Rachel Berry, with all my heart, yes."
Rachel's sure the squeal Quinn makes as she tackles her to the ground is seventy percent from intense throbbing pain, but the other part, she thinks, smothering the blonde's face with kisses, the other part is definitely from joy.