chapter five: you can break my heart in two, but when it heals it beats for you
Rachel and Quinn sitting in a tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
First comes love,
Then comes damage,
Then comes two slit throats in a pool of blood
Just because you make her cry
Doesn't mean that she won't die.
The words were printed on a tiny card that accompanied a bouquet of red roses, roses that Quinn recognized as being placed all over the mansion. It was her own personal version of the call coming from inside the house. Whoever was sending the threats had access to the set and the only person she knew she could trust was Rachel.
But Rachel wasn't speaking to her, or rather, Rachel was only speaking to her as much as her job function required. She'd appeared in the control room bright and early, wearing sunglasses that obscured her glare and made it impossible to tell whether or not she was actually looking at the person speaking to her.
The plan for the day was simple, first set up a couple pool competitions for the contestants then let whoever won that escort Vanessa to the fancy dress ball they planned for the night.
Rachel had given her a curt nod, then stalked off to prep her people. That's when Quinn had found the bouquet.
"Hey, hey you, what's your name?" Quinn called to the security guard she'd stationed outside her office.
"Marcus ma'am," the tall man said, giving her a small nod, "is something the matter?"
"Yes, something is the matter! Who put these in my office?" Quinn said. She pointed to the red roses, tauntingly beautiful.
"We just had shift change ma'am," Marcus said, "I've only been here two minutes at least and no one's been in or out."
"Then find whoever was at the door before you and get them in my office immediately!" Quinn snapped before lifting her walkie, "Madison! In my office!"
Ninety seconds later, Madison flew through the door, out of breath, "You wanted to see me?" She gasped, haltingly as she tried to catch her breath.
Quinn glared at her, "Stop panting, did you run all the way here?"
"I was-" Madison took a deep breath, "-on the other side of set, and it sounded-" she inhaled again, "-important."
"Yes," Quinn composer herself, "This bouquet of flowers showed up on my desk and I need to know where it came from. Obviously it came from somewhere in the mansion. Find where and who."
"What? But I have guys…. and girls," Madison said.
"Jay and Rachel can handle it."
"B-but I'm a producer!"
"Yes and this is important. I need you to find where these flowers came from," Quinn waved her hand dismissively, "Now!"
Madison stared at her for a heartbeat. Lips pressed together as she obviously weighed her chances with an argument. Then, in a huff, she picked up the bouquet and stormed off, leaving Quinn to pour herself a drink.
…
Madison, to her credit, didn't slam the glass doors of Quinn's office when she left. She did however groan loudly as she put the flowers in the control room.
"I can't believe this!" She muttered to herself.
"Hey, what's wrong Madison?" Dr. James asked. She pushed her glasses up her nose, psychiatric evaluations spread out on the desk in front of her.
Madison sighed, "Quinn wants me to figure out where these flowers came from, but it's like a needle in a haystack! I'm not a P.A. anymore!"
"Those flowers?" Dr. James said, "I thought I saw Troy walk through with those. Maybe you could check the footage by his room?"
"Oh my gosh really?" Madison was out of her chair like a shot, over to one of the computers where she rewound the feed from the hallways. It didn't take her long to go through the past twenty four hours at triple speed.
"There!" Said Dr. James, pointing. Madison stopped the feed and rewound it a couple minutes.
On the screen, Troy checked to see if anyone was watching, then took the bouquet of roses and walked off camera.
"Gotchya," Madison said to the screen, then turned to Dr. James, "Thanks Allison, I can go tell Quinn and get back to producing now."
"Can you give her this when you tell her?" Dr. James handed Madison a folder, "it's Kara Edwards' background. Quinn said she wanted to make her the villain with staying power."
"What? But she's my best girl! She's wifey material!"
Dr. James put a hand on Madison's shoulder, "Oh shoot, I'm sorry about that. Is Quinn like, out to get you or something?"
Madison sighed, looking up at Dr. James, at least there was one person on set who cared enough to listen to her.
"It sure feels like it."
…
"So," Jay stood next to Rachel, arms crossed, both looking out at where the contestants were lined up by the pool, "Do I even want to know what's up with you can Quinn?"
Rachel rolled her neck, trying to come up with an accurate response. A professional response that she could use to explain to her coworker what was happening between her and their boss.
She was angry. She was hurt. She was confused. All of her emotions were tangled together, like a knotted ball of string inside her. It was slowly being pulled tighter and tighter in her chest, constricting every time Quinn looked at her, tangling worse was Quinn berated her or touched her.
It had been easy to lash out, to use the situation to hurt Quinn right back. In the moment, it felt good. Kissing Kara was nice, even if it was boring, and the look on Quinn's face mirrored the way Rachel felt with every heartbeat.
But that didn't change the fact that Rachel wished it had been Quinn she'd kiss yesterday. It didn't change that she wanted to straddle Quinn's body, wanted to kiss every inch of her skin, wanted to make her moan and watch her face as she came unraveled under Rachel's fingertips.
Rachel shook her head, trying to clear all thoughts of Quinn like clearing an etch-a-sketch.
"Don't worry about," Rachel said, "It's just the same old shit."
…
"After Vanessa sent six of our contestants home last time, only twenty four remain. But who will be the dashing man- or charming lady- to win our suitresses heart?" Graham monologued on screen, "But before they can do that, they must win our Pool of Love competition!"
"Pool of Love competition? What kind of a shit name is that?" Quinn asked no one in particular from the control room.
"The goal is to swim across the pool, get the heart, swim back and deliver it to Vanessa," Graham explained as he placed a hand of Vanessa's shoulder. She stood looking cold in her bikini, more baring her teeth than actually smiling.
"Whoever completes this the fastest will be Vanessa's date to the ball," Graham said and Vanessa shivered.
"Cut!" Quinn yelled into her walkie, "Cut! God, our ice princess looks cold. Can someone get Vanessa warmed up? We want hot and wet, not frigid."
She scanned the monitors watching both men and women shiver under the heat lamps. It was overcast, which was great for filming but sucked if you were standing outside in a swimsuit.
"Rachel why is one of my wifeys in board shorts?" Quinn snapped into her walkie as she zeroed in on Jillian Hawkins.
"She didn't bring anything else and won't change," Rachel voice was tinny through the walkie talkie, "Says it's anti-feminist to make her change. I think she looks great, and she has a point, it's not like we're making the guys wear speedos."
"Well tell her that Atwood said everything is about male fantasies and get her in a string bikini," Quinn said.
On screen she saw Rachel turn to glance directly into one of the cameras before saying, "Okay, got it boss."
With Rachel on a bikini bottom mission and occupied for the time being, Quinn sank back down into her chair, watching the good tv unfold.
Contestants shivered and chatted awkwardly, girls with girls and guys with guys not knowing how to bridge the gap. Quinn signed, muttering, "well we're going to have to fix that," to herself.
As soon as she saw Rachel shepherding a now more scantily clad Jillian back to her mark, Quinn called action. Graham started babbling again, some bad pun and dialogue so boring that she tuned it out.
Then the competition started. Almost everyone jumped in the pool, except for a couple of stranglers who's respective producers tried to urge into the pool.
After a bit of struggling between Jillian, Mike, and, surprisingly, Troy, it became clear who was in the lead to win.
"No!" Quinn cried into the walkie, "Keep Troy from winning! Anyone else, it doesn't matter, but not- damn it!"
It was too late. Troy had grabbed the crown and swam back, delivering it to Vanessa, and Vanessa managed to keep the distain off of her face.
"Congratulations Troy," Graham said, lifting Troy's hand in the air, "You've won the honor of escorting Vanessa to tonight's ball."
And with that, Mike kicked over a flower pot.
…
Rachel had an internal Quinn radar. More often than not, without looking, she knew where Quinn was and when she was heading in her direction. So when an atm draped around her shoulders and Quinn guided her off to the side, she wasn't surprised.
"We need to get Vanessa to cut Troy," Quinn whispered as they stepped into a shadowy alcove, "Tonight."
"Yeah? That shouldn't be hard, he already yelled homophobic slurs while punching Vanessa ex skating partner so I don't think he's one of her favorites," Rachel said, ducking out of Quinn embrace. She was still annoyed and wanted to be sure Quinn knew.
"But," continued Rachel, "He's good TV, why get rid of him so fast? There's enough security here to keep him from causing too much damage."
"He's getting cut tomorrow night, right after the ball," Quinn said with a scary intensity that Rachel hadn't seen before, "Then he's being banned from set."
"Quinn, what's going on? Are you, uh, are you drunk?"
"Get him cut, you're the one who can do it best," Quinn said, taking both of Rachel's wrists in her hands, "But do not put yourself in danger. Keep security with you, alright?"
Rachel's heart pounded through her wrists, through Quinn's palms. In the cool, dark of the brick overhang, it felt like hot electricity passing through them. This wasn't a trick, it wasn't emotional manipulation or just things Quinn said to get her way.
"You're scaring me," Rachel looked from Quinn's hands back to Quinn. A storm of blue-green ocean eyes stared back at her. It was like drowning in the vastness that was Quinn- and in an emotion behind her eyes that Rachel couldn't quite name.
This was different from anything Rachel had seen before. It wasn't champagne on the loungers, a begrudging I love you too comma weirdo. It wasn't a smile by the pool and the life changing gift of her cabin. It wasn't even blood in the control room, begging Rachel to leave. It wasn't any of that, and it scared her.
"Okay, okay I'll get rid of him," Rachel said after a beat.
"And?"
"And I'll keep security with me."
"Good girl," Quinn whispered.