Summary: Quinn is having an awful day. Nothing seems to go right and she finds herself in trouble with her teacher, her coach, her grandfather, AND her mama.
Written for the Dfic-Tac-Toe challenge for March featuring alternative — aka, non-spanking — punishments (...there will still be spanking. Hi, it's me. I'm the problem).
My three-in-a-row are Mouth Soaping, Corner Time/Time-out, and Physical Exercise.
Timeline: Set mid-to-late March
Chapter 1: The Trouble Begins
There are some days in life where it would have been better to just stay in bed. Quinn Fabray was having one such day.
The morning had started off with her running late. She'd forgotten to set an alarm the night before and had to be woken by her mother instead. Rather than getting up right away, the teenager had fallen back asleep (Shelby wasn't nearly as accommodating the second time she'd swept into Quinn's room, hurrying the girl along with a few well-placed pops). The girl burned the roof of her mouth on the toaster strudel she'd hastily shoved into her yap and then bit the inside of her cheek as she frantically chewed and swallowed. There was a quiz in chemistry that Quinn was unprepared for and was sure she'd failed.
She was now sitting in the back of Brit Lit class, engrossed in a whispered conversation with Santana about the sleepover they had planned for the very next day. It had been far too long since their last one, as Quinn had been keeping her distance after losing her home and finding her real one with Shelby. Santana had grown suspicious and then jealous of whatever Quinn was hiding, and it had taken a truly epic battle between the pair of them (one that resulted in Quinn's second trip to the Principal's Office) to set matters straight. Well, the straight part came after a two-day suspension and consequences from their parents. But now things were back to normal and the girls thick as thieves.
Quinn was glad. She'd missed her best friend. Santana was becoming a regular fixture at the Corcoran house, but tomorrow's sleepover marked her first extended stay. Quinn couldn't wait!
Her excitement was her downfall. She wasn't careful enough keeping her voice low as she giggled with Santana, and before she knew it, Quinn had a stern-faced, middle-aged woman standing before her and looking none-too-pleased.
"I'm sorry. Is my lesson disturbing you, ladies?" Mrs. Greer asked, her hands finding their way to her hips as she glared down at the two teens in question.
Santana flushed and lowered her gaze to her textbook, but Quinn was having A Day. She wasn't going to fold so easily.
Mrs. Greer seemed unaware of that fact as she gave a curt little nod to the girls. She was just turning to head back up to the front and continue her lesson when she heard it.
"We were ignoring you just fine, actually," Quinn said as a collective 'Oooh' rose from her classmates.
Santana gasped beside her, her head snapping up to stare at her best friend in horror. Santana Lopez was a badass, but even she didn't mouth off to teachers!
"Leave my class, Miss Fabray. And that's a zero for today," Mrs. Greer said, never breaking stride as she returned to her lectern.
Quinn could feel all eyes on her as the entire class waited for what she would do next. Adrenaline coursed through her body as her brain whirled. She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. It was too late now as she met the hard eyes of her teacher. The woman motioned toward the door with a slight jerk of her head.
With a heavy sigh, Quinn gathered her textbook and binder and began to stuff them haphazardly into her bookbag. She could feel her friend's sympathetic gaze on her, but didn't dare meet her eyes.
"See you at practice," she whispered, her voice shaky. Santana's hand clapped Quinn's shoulder as she stood.
Quinn focused on the doorway, holding her head high as best she could as she made her way towards it. It was both the longest and shortest walk of her life, but then she was out in the hallway. The door shut with a heavy click as the teenager slumped against the wall in defeat. Kicked out of class and a zero for the day's performance—her mother was going to kill her.
Quinn was the first one in the locker room that afternoon. She sighed. Cheerios practice after the long and awful day she had wasn't what she wanted…but at least it was an hour and then she was free for the weekend. She held onto that shred of silver lining as she changed out of her Cheerios uniform and into her workout gear. It was stupid, she thought, to be forced to wear her Cheerio kit all day, only to take it off when practice came. But that was Sue Sylvester's rule. Their uniform was a status symbol and Sue wouldn't have them tarnished with sweat stains.
The sound of footsteps drew Quinn from her thoughts and she turned in time to see Santana rounding the corner. Hazel eyes flicked down to the pink slip in her friend's hand and the girl groaned as it was offered up to her. She had detention on Monday.
"Shelby's gonna kill you," Santana stated.
"Unhelpful, San," Quinn glared at her friend. Santana had the decency to look abashed, at least.
"There goes our sleepover, I guess," Santana added, her shoulders slumping.
Quinn's eyes grew wide and she snapped her head back up to stare at her friend. She'd been so consumed with feeling sorry for herself and anticipating a certain specific conversation with her mama to even consider that Shelby would take away the sleepover. The thought alone was enough to make her eyes sting, and Quinn blinked them rapidly.
"She can't," she moaned, flopping down onto the bench between the row of lockers.
"I'm sorry, Quinnie," Santana spoke softly, joining her friend on the bench. Casting her eyes around the room quickly to ensure no one was around, she rubbed a hand up and down Quinn's back. "Shelby's pretty understanding, right? Apologize and act really sorry. Maybe she'll go easy on you."
"I should have stayed in bed this morning," Quinn muttered, sniffling. She felt San give her shoulder a squeeze and sighed. "I gotta go tell Coach, I guess." She swiped at her eyes to clear them of moisture and then squared her shoulders.
Santana mirrored the other teenager's sigh and stood when Quinn did. "Good luck," she said, watching her friend begin the dreaded walk to Coach Sylvester's office.
Quinn bit her lip as she approached her coach's glass-walled domain. She could see the woman at her desk, glasses on and writing away in a notebook. Quinn took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Sue Sylvester popped her head up in time to see a grim-faced Quinn Fabray slinking through the doorway. The stern woman removed her glasses and placed them rims-down atop her diary. Then she steepled her fingers and surveyed the teen shifting before her.
"Fabray," she snapped when it became clear the girl wasn't going to start this conversation. "You have something you want to tell me?"
Quinn's stomach jolted at the sharp tone from her coach and she had to lock her knees so they wouldn't knock together as she stood before the desk. Licking her lips, Quinn spit it out. "I've got detention on Monday."
"I'm aware," Sue answered. "'We were ignoring you just fine', hmm?"
Quinn swallowed as her words from earlier were repeated. They sounded so much worse, now.
"So, you like to run your mouth, Fabray, is that it?" Sue asked, reveling in the reaction her words produced. Quinn's chest rose and fell rapidly and Sue didn't miss the beads of sweat that were appearing at the teen's temples. Good—the girl should be sweating bullets. "Do you think it's acceptable for my Head Cheerio to be causing a scene like that in the middle of class? What's my number one rule, Quinn?!"
"Don't get caught," Quinn answered on auto-pilot.
"Don't. Get. Caught! You blatantly flouted that rule!" Sue roared. "You wanna pull that crap, save it for Will Schuester and Glee Club! You got that?"
"I got it, Coach."
"Good," Sue huffed. "You owe me twenty laps after practice today."
Quinn's eyes went wide. "That's five miles!"
Sue cocked an eyebrow at the outraged teen. "Good to see you've been paying attention in math, at least. You're dismissed, Fabray."
Quinn panted along with the rest of her teammates as practice came to a close as 4PM drew near. It had been a grueling sixty minutes that left them all sore and sweaty.
Sue's voice boomed from her megaphone, "Sloppy. Lazy. Babies. I'm going to ask each of you to smell your armpits—" She paused, watching as forty high schoolers raised their arms to take tentative sniffs. Her lips twitched. "That is the smell of failure. You're stinking up the entire football field! Hit the showers!"
There was a collective sigh from the others as they all began to file off the field, rubbing at sore muscles and whining under their breaths. Oh, how Quinn wished to be one of them!
"Here, you'll need this," Santana said as she came over to Quinn and held out an extra water bottle. Quinn gave her a tired but grateful smile and threw her arms around the taller girl's neck for a quick hug. It was with less grace than she'd hoped, but Santana didn't seem to mind as she returned the embrace.
"FABRAY! LOPEZ! Save the homo-erotic PDA for someone else's time!" Sue bellowed across the field. The girls startled and jumped back from one another, their faces blood-red. "You have laps to run, Fabray! Chop chop!"
Santana gave her friend a sympathetic look. "Good luck!" she mouthed before hurrying off to the lockers. Quinn watched her go with a pang in her stomach.
"YOU BETTER START RUNNING, FORREST GUMP!"
Jacob Corcoran frowned as he looked at the time on his dash. 4:18. Quinn should have been out here by now.
"Where is that girl?" he wondered as he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. He sent off a quick text to his granddaughter, informing the girl he was the one picking her up today, before sending another to his daughter. His phone rang a moment later.
"Shelby," he answered.
"Hi, Dad. It was easier to call. I haven't heard from Quinn, but I did just open an email from her teacher. Apparently, Quinn mouthed off enough to get herself kicked out of class. She and I will be having quite the talk this evening. Happy Friday, right?"
"Ah. I remember those days," Jacob recalled. He could laugh about these things now, with his own child well out of childhood. He didn't envy Shelby's (or Quinn's) position today. "I guess I'll go check the field and see what's going on. I'll let you know when I find her, then."
"Yeah, please do! I'll keep you updated on when I'll be by to get Little Miss. It's a bit backed up at the dentist's. Rachel was just called back, so I'll be a while. I've still got to pick Beth up from the sitter's, too."
"I can get Beth if you want."
"You don't mind? That would be great, Dad, thanks! Alright. I'll see you later!"
Jacob ended the call with a small sigh and turned the ignition off on his car. Unlocking the door, his knees protested with little pops and cracks as he clambered out.
"My grandmother can run faster than that, Fabray—and she's dead!" Sue Sylvester heckled the blonde teen as she made yet another lap around the track. Truthfully, Quinn was making good time, but she wasn't about to praise the child.
Jacob Corcoran made it to the field in time to see his granddaughter sprint past him on the track. A tall, slim woman in a red tracksuit was yelling taunts into a bullhorn. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize who he was approaching.
"Good afternoon, Coach Sylvester," he said.
Shrewd eyes scanned up and down his figure, then narrowed. "Are you with the CIA? I've already told others and I'll tell you too. I did my time, five years of it in Minsk with not a single thank you from the US Government—and I'm sure as hell not going back undercover eating borscht and pierogi in prison with Sergei again."
"Ah…no," Jacob answered, wondering how on Earth this woman was qualified to be around children. "I'm Jacob Corcoran, Quinn's grandfather. I just came looking for my granddaughter because it's been thirty minutes past when I expected her. I was concerned."
"I can see why that would be concerning," Sue said with a nod. "More concerning, perhaps, is why your granddaughter is late this afternoon."
"I'd be interested to know," Jacob pressed.
"It was brought to my attention today that Legs McGee out there was caught talking in class. When her English teacher confronted her about it, Quinn came back with a snappy little remark. That's not the sort of behavior I tolerate from any on my team, and especially not my Head Cheerio. I told Quinn if she liked running her mouth so much, she could run laps for me after practice. She's got three more to go."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I'll make sure the matter is addressed with Quinn so that it doesn't happen again."
"Tell me, Mr. Corcoran. Are you an old-fashioned sort of man?"
Jacob narrowed his eyes. "I don't see how that is any of your concern, Coach."
"Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Corcoran. I've done my best to wear Quinn out so she doesn't have the energy left to mouth off in class. But I'm of the opinion that wearing her out in an altogether different way will do a whole lot more to curb this behavior. Now, two years ago, I'd have been able to do the honors myself—I still have the paddle hanging in my office, matter of fact. But until the State of Ohio comes back to its senses and allows teachers to administer real discipline to students again, my hands are tied. I can only hope that parents—and grandparents—are more enlightened."
Quinn Fabray was going to die. She was sure of it. And it wasn't going to be her mother who did it. Oh no. It was going to be this track and these laps.
Practice had been bad enough, with endless sets of wall sits and suicide drills that left her quads and hamstrings burning. Five miles around the track was torture after that, and Coach was relentless. Quinn's body didn't feel like hers anymore. Her feet pounded the cushiony surface of the track, legs numb. Every breath into her lungs felt like she was sucking in razor blades that pierced and cut, shredding the soft pink tissue inside. Her eyes burned from the sweat dripping into them and then blurred as she hurriedly blinked to clear them. And through it all, the girl ran.
She was rounding the turn on her sixteenth lap, Sue's insults hot in pursuit, when she noticed a figure out of the corner of her eye. Her head snapped in that direction out of curiosity and then Quinn's brain made the connection. It was Zayde!
What was he doing here, she wondered. 'Who cares?!' her inner voice exclaimed. Zayde was here to save her!
He was taking forever!
Seventeen laps. Quinn could cry.
The two adults were just standing there, talking. What was there to even say?! 'Hey, that's my granddaughter and I'm taking her home now'—that's all it would take, surely?
Eighteen.
"A double-amputee could pass you on their stumps right now, Fabray! MOVE IT!"
Nineteen. Quinn met her grandfather's eyes as she struggled past him. Everything ached, but the displeased expression he wore was the worst.
The teen didn't recall the final lap, but she must have completed it because then Sue was ordering her to walk a lap for a cool down. Quinn spent that lap contemplating Sue's murder.
"Front and center, Fabray!" Sue bellowed. It was all Quinn could do to remain upright as she limped over, her body feeling sluggish and shaky.
Jacob Corcoran reached an arm out to steady his granddaughter as soon as the girl was close enough. He didn't miss the surprise flash across her tired face as she cast a nervous glance up at him. His lips twitched in a small, sympathetic smile. It was clear to him that the poor girl had had A Day.
"What have you learned here?" Sue demanded, drawing the teenager's attention to herself. When Quinn didn't answer, the cheer coach smiled. "Ah. Good. Running your legs has cured you of running your mouth."
As exhausted as Quinn was, she could still roll her eyes and she did so with deliberate slowness as she met Sue's gaze head-on.
Sue Sylvester's eyebrows rose as Quinn glared at her. If it hadn't been for the fact that Fabray dared give her that look, Sue would have been impressed at the ferocity of it. She smirked. "Not enough to rid you of the attitude, I see—" She regarded the older gentleman now. "I've done what I can with her. The rest is up to you, Mr. Corcoran." She made a show of turning to leave, then paused. "The use of my office—and my paddle—is up for grabs if you want it. Just say the word." Her gaze flicked to Quinn's and she didn't hide her look of unadulterated glee at seeing the girl's eyes widen in shock. The embarrassment that washed over the child was the icing on the cake. "Hit the showers, Fabray."
Jacob Corcoran was staring with his own steely glare and angry thoughts as he and Quinn watched Sue Sylvester depart. He squeezed Quinn's shoulder in a show of support and pretended not to hear the whispered growl about her coach. Frankly, he shared that sentiment.
Quinn's attention turned back to her grandfather and she looked up at the man now with uncertain eyes. "Why are you…Is Mama okay? Where is she?" Confusion turned to worry as Quinn's imagination conjured up all kinds of scenarios on why Shelby wasn't here and Zayde was.
Jacob gave Quinn a kind smile and rubbed a hand up and down a sweaty back. "Mama's fine, Quinnie. She had to take Rachel to a dentist appointment. It was a last minute thing, schedules mixed up. Rachel's dads couldn't take her, so they called Shelby. She asked me to pick you up instead."
The sudden fear that had clenched Quinn's heart at the thought of something bad having happened to Shelby lifted, only to be replaced with the prickly barbs of jealousy wrapping around her insides.
Jacob felt Quinn stiffen in his arms, her shoulders slumping at the news. He didn't need to hear her mumbled grumblings to know she was unhappy. As much as she tried to hide it, Quinn's jealousy when it came to Rachel was clear as day. It stemmed from fear of being cast aside and not truly belonging. Jacob sighed and placed a kiss to Quinn's damp temple.
"C'mon, sweetheart. Let's get out of here," he said, shifting his arm to wrap around Quinn's back. He placed a steady hand at her waist, encouraging the girl to lean into him as they began the trek back to the school.
"Is it okay if I take a quick shower here, Zayde?" Quinn asked as they entered the school building near the gymnasium. The locker rooms were around the corner. "I feel gross."
"Sure, hon. I'll wait for you in the car."
Jacob Corcoran pulled up outside of his house just as 5 o'clock approached and cut the engine with a relieved sigh. The car ride from William McKinley, to the sitter's, and then here had been a trip, that was for certain. Quinn had sulked in the front seat, huffing and mumbling under her breath about the unfairness of life (and reminding Jacob of a teenage Shelby), while Beth screamed her little lungs out in the back. The man was tired.
It was his fault, really. He'd forgotten the rules with teenagers. He should have waited until they were back at his house, (maybe with a cup of tea and a cookie), to broach the topic with the girl. Instead, he'd made a rookie mistake.
"Your mama said she got an email from your teacher. You were kicked out of class? Your coach told me the same—and that's why you were out running extra laps. Wanna talk about it?" he had asked once Quinn was strapped in beside him and they were on their way to pick Beth up from the sitter's. Quinn most certainly did not want to talk about it. Jacob could still feel the icy burn of the girl's glare.
"I need your help, Quinnie. Either get your sister or go open the front door for me," Jacob said, unsurprised when the teen rolled her eyes and then snatched the keys from his hand. He let her go without a word, making the mental note to try to talk with her and smooth out her prickles before she had to face Shelby.
Quinn stormed off towards the house, feet stomping the entire way. She reached the door and shoved the key into the lock, pushing the door open with more force than necessary. It banged against the wall and rebounded. The teenager huffed and stopped it before it could hit her, then left it hanging open (she could hear her grandfather's steps drawing closer).
Quinn was mad. Frustrated…Jealous. Nervous. It had been a truly horrible day, and as kind and understanding as her grandfather was being, she just wanted her mama. But Shelby was off with Rachel. Oh, Quinn knew it wasn't really a 'I-picked-Rachel-over-you' thing, but it still sucked that after a long, hard day, the woman she'd grown to view as her mother wasn't there, ready and waiting with warm, open arms. It also sucked that Quinn knew she was in for trouble when her mama did come get her. She hated that. She didn't want to be in trouble. She just wanted to be held.
She really should have stayed in bed this morning.
Beth's cries drew her attention back to the present, and Quinn hurried over to help Zayde with the infant. Searching in the diaper bag, Quinn found a clean bottle and the canister of formula. She took both over to the sink, thankful that Beth liked her bottles on the cool side—it made making one quick and easy.
"I'll take her," she said, much calmer now as she faced her grandfather. Jacob handed Beth over with a grateful smile.
Jacob watched as Quinn carried Beth over to his favorite recliner and settled in with the baby. Beth's cries ended the moment the bottle touched her lips, and Quinn smiled down at her as she began to rock them. Jacob recognized the melody the teenager started to hum—it was the same one Sally had hummed all those years to Shelby. Brahms' Lullaby.
Blinking away the sudden moisture in his eyes, Jacob cleared his throat. "I'll make us some tea, Quinn, and then we can talk."
This day was dragging on forever. Quinn didn't want to talk. Her grandfather had tried before. She wasn't having it and told him so. He'd let her go off without too much fuss. She promised she'd do her homework.
She wasn't doing her homework. She was pacing Shelby's old room, watching the time on her clock tick by and wondering where the HELL the woman was. She ignored the fact that she could know exactly where her mama was if she'd just picked up one of the half dozen times Shelby had called in the last fifteen minutes.
She hadn't wanted to start the conversation about her day. So…she didn't. She paced and worried instead.
Shelby Corcoran sighed as her call went to Quinn's voicemail—again. She was going to try a new tactic.
Jacob Corcoran picked up on the first ring. "Shelby, hi," he greeted.
"Hey. Did you take Quinn's phone away, by any chance?" Shelby said.
"No," Jacob answered, scratching at the stubble on his chin. "Was I supposed to?"
"No. But I've been calling her and she won't pick up. I just got finished dropping Rach off at her dads' and thought I'd pick up take-out for dinner tonight. I wanted to ask what she wants."
"She's holed herself up in your old room. I'll go check."
Shelby listened as her father let out a muffled groan as he stood. She could then hear his footsteps against the hardwood floors, mentally tracking his route to her childhood bedroom. The door creaked on its hinges as it opened. "Quinnie. Mama's on the phone," her father said. She heard the disgruntled humph from her teenager and prepared herself.
Quinn froze as the door opened, heart jumping into her throat. She'd expected to see her mother standing there. Instead, it was Zayde. And he was holding his phone out to her. Shelby had called him.
Quinn didn't move. She'd huffed in displeasure and then folded her arms across her chest. She didn't want to talk to Shelby. They'd be doing too much of it once her mama was here—why did she have to start now?
"Take the phone, Quinn," Zayde said, his tone calm, but Quinn could hear the underlying firmness. She glared at him.
Jacob raised his brow and gave his arm a little shake. He returned Quinn's glare with immovable patience.
Quinn growled but took the phone. "What do you want?" she demanded before the device was fully up to her ear.
Shelby barked out a laugh and then had to fake a cough in order to cover it. She smiled into the phone. "Well, hello to you, too, Quinnie."
Quinn gave another annoyed huff and rolled her eyes. She wasn't in the mood for any of this. "What, Mama? I really don't want to talk to you right now."
"Yes, I gathered that. You made it almost impossible to reach you." Her tone bordered on scolding. "And I know you don't want to talk to me, but you're going to—"
"Ugh! Can't you just wait to tear me a new one until you're actually here?" Quinn snapped. "I know I'm in trouble. I don't need you rubbing my nose in it. I got enough of that from Coach Sylvester after practice. Five whole fu—friggin'—miles of it! All because that old hag—"
"Quinn!" Her name was hissed in stereo by an adult on each end of the phone. The girl ignored both.
"—went to her and told her about class. It wasn't enough that she gave me a zero and detention? And emailed you! No, she had to tell Coach. Five miles! And that was after she kicked all our asses during practice!" Quinn was ranting now, her words coming out without a filter.
"Well, you were incredibly rude, Quinn. I'd have done the same to any of my Vocal Adrenaline kids. But I didn't call to talk about school right now. I'm picking up dinner and wanted to—"
"So my mom's a bitch too. Noted," the teenager muttered under her breath (but perhaps not quietly enough).
"Ex–cuse me?!" Shelby returned, her eyebrows shooting towards her hairline.
Her mother's icy tone was enough to stop Quinn's heart as her brain caught up to her mouth. But it was the stormy face of her grandfather as he took a measured step towards her that had the girl wishing to disappear. She'd seen that look one other time before.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Quinn squeaked out as she took a hurried step backwards. Her left hand flew behind her to cover as much of her bottom as she could as Zayde came to a stop in front of her. The man towered over her. Quinn quaked.
"Apologize to your mother. Now," he said. He never raised his voice, but it sent chills down Quinn's spine anyway.
"I'm sorry, Mama! I didn't mean it!" Quinn's voice wavered as tears appeared in her eyes.
Jacob's hard stare never left Quinn's as he reached out to pluck the phone from her hand. Bringing it to his own ear, he said, "We're going to have to let you go, Shelby. Quinn and I have something to discuss. Be careful on your drive."
Quinn gulped as she watched her grandfather pocket his phone after ending the call. Then he reached for her and the girl let out a tiny gasp. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting to feel a stinging swat land on her bottom any second now. It never came, and instead, she was being led from her mama's childhood room.