Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
A/N: haelthy opted for an epilogue, so you guys get one!
Previously:
Quinn frowned, raising her voice to break through the taunts. "What's going on out here?"
Rachel shrugged, catching her gaze. "I don't know. You left and all of a sudden I'm in the middle of West Side Story."
"I think you owe me some money, baby," Israel cooed, forgetting about Rachel and setting his sights on Quinn. The blonde narrowed her eyes from the stoop. "Two hundred bucks."
She pushed herself forward, knocking shoulders with the pimp before reaching Rachel's side. The crowd edged in. Quinn closed her hand around the brunette's wrist, silently pleading her to get in the car.
Israel took point, giving them a dirty smirk. "Now I hear you got yourself a new job?"
"Let's just leave," Quinn whispered, nudging Rachel. The brunette remained fixed in place, determined to stand her ground.
"You ain't goin' no place," the pimp continued, encouraged by cat calls and guffaws.
When Rachel took a bold step forward, a man from the crowd jumped out at her, eyes glazed over. "Hey, hey, hey—you're outta your neighborhood. This ain't no Hollywood!"
To her credit, the brunette didn't even flinch. She gestured at the man, looking at Quinn in disbelief. "I don't believe this. He has this knife coming out of his skateboard." She turned back to the guy, amused. "He's going to stab me. What, you gonna strangle me with a Slinky?"
Quinn swallowed thickly, not liking Rachel's sudden bravery. There was a reason the neighborhood was rough, and that reason was slowly closing in on them. The blonde opened the car door, staring at Rachel pointedly.
Rachel ignored her and held up her hands. "All right, okay, this is what's happening. You believe this person owes you two hundred dollars?"
Israel rolled his shoulders. "That's right."
"Why?"
"Because this is my block," he deadpanned.
The brunette looked back at Quinn. "His block?"
"He's a drug dealer. It has to do with San." The blonde rocked back on her heels. "Let's just go, Rachel."
"Raaa-chel," Israel mocked, gaining more laughs. "So how's it feel to be a trick?"
"I am not a trick." The brunette faltered, but seemed to push past it and nodded at the driver. "This is a trick. Darryl! Left pocket." The man slipped his hand into his jacket, withdrawing a pistol from his left hip, above the pocket. Rachel smirked as the crowd stiffened, a few backing off completely. "Isn't that incredible? And he does have a permit. Thank you, gentlemen."
She helped Quinn into the car and walked a few paces to Israel, standing toe to toe with him. Dropping her voice, she said lowly, "Don't you ever go near her again."
The pimp scoffed and stalked off to the back door, slamming it shut behind him. His lingering mates dispersed in the alleyway as Rachel climbed into the limousine, smiling at the blonde.
Quinn bit her lip, and glanced at the brunette. "Does Darryl always carry a gun?"
"When he drives me, yes, always," Rachel responded. Her brow creased when she noticed the blonde playing with her hemline. "What's wrong?"
"You shouldn't have done that," she said quietly.
"Done what?"
"Stood up to them like that."
"Darryl had a gun on him, we were safe the entire time," Rachel said, turning to face Quinn. "And they were insulting you."
"So? It's a food chain. You can't just say whatever you want to, you know. There are repercussions, street rules."
"But-"
"Look, there's a reason we let them act like they're wolves in a pen of pigs."
Rachel held her tongue, sensing there was more to the issue than she could understand.
Quinn looked out the window, wondering where her roommate was. She hoped to hell she wasn't out on the same streets as Israel.
Rachel watched from the couch as Quinn paced the room, sitting down only to jump back up or taking out glasses from the shelves just to clean them. She'd been offering to help the blonde for the past few hours, and received a grunt or inconclusive hum each time. She'd tried to distract her, but it only made Quinn antsier.
And she refused to talk about it. Rachel had a feeling it was about her missing roommate. Well, that, and whatever happened in the alleyway. She wasn't sure if the blonde was mad at her or at herself. She thought it was probably a mix of each, but couldn't bring herself to apologize to the woman. She hadn't done anything wrong. They were safe. They had been safe. And she wouldn't say sorry for that.
Instead, she settled further into the couch, attempting to focus on the old Broadway tape playing on screen. It was one of her favorites. She had it memorized; each note, each gesture, each breath.
It was never hard to sink into the world of a stage.
But even with all her attention fixed on the TV, she was acutely aware of each step, each pause, each that sigh Quinn made, even if she wasn't in view. Especially when she wasn't in view.
It was getting ridiculous.
"Are you sure you don't want to sit?" Rachel tried one last time. All she wanted was to wrap her arms around the blonde, to keep her in place. Secure.
But Quinn only huffed and strode out onto the balcony again. The brunette closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and holding it, one, two, before exhaling. "Just let her be," she muttered to herself.
The blonde approached the cement railing, peering out over the Hills. A light night breeze ruffled her hair, and she swung her legs over the ledge, sitting on the thick wall. The lights twinkled below her like stars.
She wasn't sure why she couldn't stop. She just knew she couldn't sit still, whether it was next to Rachel on the sofa or at the kitchen counter. Even here, on the railing, she was rocking. Moving. She had to, because who knew what might happen if she stopped. She'd stopped for the past several days, and look at where she was—sitting out on a Penthouse patio, in designer clothes, waiting for her best friend to call her, with the most beautiful woman trying to console her just footsteps away.
She heard the brunette pad across the room and stop just outside the balcony doors. Quinn looked over her shoulder, watching the brunette rap her fingers on the glass as she bought time.
"Hey," Rachel said.
The blonde managed a small smile, and let her eyes wander down the brunette's frame. She had changed into a t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. The shortest yet. Her gaze snapped back up to meet Rachel's, who returned the smile with a chuckle.
"Uhm, I'm headed off to bed," she said, and worried her lip. "You should come soon…it's getting really late."
Quinn nodded. "I'll be there soon."
Rachel cleared her throat, looking down. "I'm, uh, sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have acted like that, even with Darryl's gun. I just, I didn't like the way they were talking to you."
"You get that I'm a hooker, right?" Quinn quirked her eyebrow. "I've heard worse."
"But you shouldn't have to," Rachel said softly.
"Rachel-"
"I'm sorry," the brunette said, backing away. "Er, goodnight."
Quinn sighed. "G'night."
When Rachel had disappeared into the next room, the blonde stared out at the city again. She extended a hand, tracing the streets she knew Santana frequented. After rounding a few blocks, she followed the road over to the alleyway they'd been in. It looked so much lighter now.
Santana would call her. They were survivors. They took care of themselves.
The call would come when it came.
When Quinn finally hopped off the ledge an hour later, she tiptoed into the bedroom to a closed-eyed brunette, whose glasses were slipping down the bridge of her nose. Paperwork still sat in her lap, incomplete. The soft snore only made her more endearing, and Quinn nearly kicked herself in the ass for ignoring her earlier.
The blonde leaned on the doorway frame, a smile playing out on her lips. She pushed off it, lightly sitting on the edge of the bed to remove Rachel's glasses and put the papers on the bedside table. Quinn searched the brunette's face for any signs of consciousness. Finding none, she dropped her voice and murmured, "She sleeps."
The brunette scrunched her nose, shifting further into the pillows. Quinn chuckled at the sleeping woman's movements, and leaned further on the bed, placing a hand on the other side of Rachel to steady herself. A breathy sound escaped the brunette's mouth, and it was then that Quinn noticed how close they were. Lifting her other hand, she reached out, hesitantly, before gently cupping Rachel's cheek in her hand. Quinn pressed a light kiss to her other cheek, a second to her temple. She pulled back enough to assess the brunette's state. Seeing no signs of awareness, she slid her hand to Rachel's chin. Her gaze flicked down to the woman's lips. She swallowed, letting her eyes close as she broke the only rule she'd ever set down.
The kiss lasted for three seconds.
In the first moment, Quinn's mind short-circuited as the connection registered. The brunette's lips were motionless against hers, but still somehow firm.
The second Mississippi shocked the blonde back, as Rachel's lips parted with a sudden gasp. Her eyes fluttered open, but neither seemed to fully move away.
Brushing lips melded together in the final beat, and Quinn's system went into overdrive. She realized what she was doing, and recognized the consequences that would surely follow, but couldn't tear away. The soft movements were exactly what she had been wanting, ever since she had gotten into that Lotus.
Rachel pushed lightly against the blonde's chest, forcing her to withdraw. Quinn tried to keep focused on the brunette's eyes, but her gaze was constantly dropping to the lips that had felt so good against hers. She was aware of the brunette talking, but the words didn't make sense.
When she saw the corners of Rachel's mouth turn up, she launched forward, engaging into a rougher, longer kiss. Rachel didn't stop them this time, and ran her hands from the blonde's shoulders to rest at the underside of her thighs. Quinn shivered when Rachel gave a small squeeze, tugging her further onto her lap. The blonde's hands roamed underneath Rachel's t-shirt, brushing the underside of her breast. When the brunette's breath hitched, Quinn grinned and slipped her tongue into her mouth.
Their tongues slid against each other, exploring the uncharted territory. Quinn broke away to take a quick breath, and Rachel, impatient, huffed and flipped them, so that she was straddling the blonde.
Quinn's eyes widened slightly, before crinkling in laughter. Rachel smirked and bent down to capture her lips again. The blonde tore off the t-shirt and wiggled out of her own. She played with the hem of Rachel's shorts, tracing circles on the brunette's abdomen, which fell lower each time. Rachel groaned, opting to focus her attention on Quinn's throat. If this was going to be a competition, there was no way she was going down without a fight.
She placed a couple of open-mouthed kisses in the crook of the blonde's neck, grinning when she felt the muscles tighten. The blonde arched her neck to allow greater access. Rachel found a pulse point and scraped her teeth against it, sucking lightly.
The blonde's circles stopped abruptly, hands moving to grip Rachel's hips instead. Quinn stifled a moan and felt the brunette's smile against her throat. She huffed, wondering how exactly she had lost control.
But as Rachel's mouth traveled lower, lips running across her chest like the lines to a treasure map, she knew she didn't need it.
For the first time in her life, she could let go.
When Rachel's mouth closed around her breast, she arched her back off the mattress to gain more pressure. In a response that surprised them both, Rachel's hips bucked back, starting the agonizing dance that their bodies fell into.
It was all peaks and valleys, sighs and cries.
And after she'd lost control (many times) and they'd finished (many times), she let Rachel snuggle up behind her. An arm curled around her side to rest on her stomach. She'd expected it to feel weird, being the little spoon. Instead, it filled a hole she didn't know she had.
Surrounded by the warmth and sweet smell of something purely Rachel, she felt herself drifting off. The brunette noticed her slowed breathing, and barely caught the hushed words that fell from her lips. "I love you."
They hadn't shut the curtains, Quinn thought, as she blinked awake.
The sunlight trickled in through the windowpane, a square falling directly onto her face. Quinn squinted and tried to move her head in a position that wouldn't make her blind. Giving up, she rolled over and bumped into a body that released a warm chuckle when she curled up against it.
"Good morning," Rachel said.
Quinn peeked up at her, seeing bright eyes. There was no residue of sleep in the brunette's features. The blonde rubbed her eyes. "How long have you been up?"
Rachel shrugged. "Not long."
"What were you thinking about all this time?" Quinn asked, closing her eyes when a hand threaded its way into her hair.
"The fact that this will be our last day together, and you'll finally be rid of me."
The blonde sighed, smirking. "Well, you've been pretty tough to take."
Rachel snorted. "My business is almost over, so I'll be going back to New York." She paused, withdrawing her hand from the tangled locks. "I'd really like to see you again."
"You would?" Quinn opened one eye to catch Rachel's smile.
"Yes." She cleared her throat. "Yes, I would, so I've arranged for you to have an apartment, to have a car…a wide variety of stores guaranteed to suck up to you anytime you want to go shopping." She took the blonde's hand, her thumb rubbing circles against it. "Everything's done."
Quinn was quiet for a beat, and Rachel watched her anxiously. The blonde sat up, pushing away from her. When she spoke, her gaze was fixed on the bed. "What else? You gonna leave some money by the bed when you pass through town?"
Rachel frowned, scooting closer. "Quinn, it really wouldn't be like that."
"How would it be?" The blonde's steeled gaze met hers.
"Well, for one thing, it would get you off the streets."
"That's just geography."
Rachel hesitated. "Quinn, what is it you want? What do you see happening between us?"
"I don't know," Quinn said, brow crinkling in thought. "When I was a little girl, my mama used to lock me in the attic when I was bad, which was pretty often. And I would—I would pretend I was a princess...trapped in a tower by a wicked queen. And then suddenly this knight," her gaze flicked back to the brunette, "on a white horse with these colors flying would come charging up and draw his sword. And I would wave. And he would climb up the tower and rescue me." A sad smile formed on her face.
"But never in all the time that I had this dream did the knight say to me, Come on, baby, I'll put you up in a great condo."
Rachel bit her lip, opening her mouth to respond when a phone interrupted her. She looked at Quinn pleadingly. The blonde waved her hand. "Oh, just answer it."
The brunette paused, but got up to take the call.
Quinn slumped back against the headboard, knocking her head on it a few times in frustration. "Stupid, stupid…" she muttered, covering her face with her hands.
Of all the rules she could have thrown out the window, it had to be the biggest one. And now, she was being offered the next best thing. An apartment. Money. In return for a fucked up relationship of biannual flings and screws.
The floorboard by the door squeaked, and she looked up to see Rachel leaning against it, avoiding her gaze. "I, uhm, have to go now, but I want you to understand...I heard everything you said." She shuffled further into the room and sat on the end of the bed. "This is all I'm capable of right now. It's a very big step for me."
The blonde exhaled. "I know. It's a really good offer for a girl like me."
"I've never treated you like a prostitute," Rachel said quietly, and got up to take a shower.
Quinn waited until the water was running to get changed. "You just did."
A/N: I'm awful at smut, so I hope that kiss scene wasn't a complete disaster. Thanks for the reviews & favorites! (: