seriousfic

Title: Under peaceful conditions, the warlike attack themselves
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,554
Characters/Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Santana/Brittany
Previous: Part 8
Summary: It sucks, having a giant lizard for a girlfriend.

Brittany had been on vacation. She'd been saving up those days for a long time, hoping that when Santana finally came around, they could spend that time together. Otherwise, she would just as soon work. She liked the gym and she liked helping people get in shape and she even liked the way people looked at her when she wore tight spandex.

But now all her vacation days were being spent looking at the phone, waiting for Santana to call. She'd stopped caring if Santana left Sam, or started being a lesbian. She just wanted Santana to say something. Even if it was that she didn't love her.

The window broke in the other room.

Brittany got up, clutching the cushion she'd been lying on, and walked to the door. Santana stood there. Her body had changed, her skin had changed, but Brittany could recognize the look she got.

She wasn't frightened.

"I was hoping you'd come."

The thing she still called Santana turned, its feet crunching broken glass without an ounce of discomfort. Brittany hugged her cushion tighter.

"Come with me," Santana said from deep in her throat.

"We should see a doctor. They'll help you."

"I've never felt better, Britt." Santana stepped closer. More glass broke. "Come with me. I'll fix you."

"There's nothing wrong with me. I've been on a diet lately. Atkins."

"No, Brittany. You're foolish and you cry too much for too many people. I was foolish too. But now I'm special. I'm better. I've come to make you better too."

"Does special mean nasty? You don't have to be nasty."

Now Santana was close enough that Brittany could feel her body heat, if she had any. "It's great, Brittany. No one can make fun of you or pick on you, ever again. Imagine always being the strongest, the fastest, the best at everything."

"I like being me. You did too, remember?"

"Never. I always hated the hold you had on me, so I washed it away. But it keeps coming back on me. So I'm going to fix you, too, and then we can be together. As friends. Because that's all we were ever meant to be. You can stand by my side. Rule a new world with me. A world without fear…"

Brittany shook her head. "If that's who you think your friend is, then I'm not your friend."

Santana ran her hand down the pillow Brittany was holding. It spilled fluff all over the floor. "I gave you a choice. Remember that."

***

Quinn's hunger woke her up. She had no choice in the matter.

The familiarly spartan confines of her apartment were nowhere in sight when she opened her eyes, replaced with pink and a lot of lace. It was like she'd been on Trading Spaces with Sailor Moon. There were motivational pictures on the wall, actual posters of kittens hanging in there.

"Have you been eating?" Rachel demanded, coming through the door with a heaping tray of—sweet Jesus—maple-drenched pancakes. "I can hear your stomach from here."

Quinn held out her arms. "Give."

Rachel held the pancakes out of arm's reach, as if Quinn were anywhere near arm's length. "What's the magic word?"

Quinn gave a brilliant smile. "Expelliarmus."

"You're lucky you're cute." Jealousy entered Rachel's voice. "First thing in the morning. After the week from hell."

"My battle damage doesn't detract from my perfection?" Quinn's voice managed to be both teasing and rueful.

"Actually, it makes you quite approachable."

Rachel set the tray on the bedstand. There was also a glass of milk and a side of bacon.

"Bacon's kosher now?" Quinn asked.

"Oh, feel free to enjoy. God didn't choose your people for anything, after all."

Quinn did. "What happened last night? Things get a little hazy after the nervous breakdown."

Rachel sat down on the foot of the bed, taking a cereal bar out of her pocket so it was kinda like they were having breakfast together. "Well, you were crying a lot—very prettily, mind you—and I didn't want to leave you alone, so I brought you back here to my abode and baked you some cookies." Rachel peeled the foil like a banana, looking at the breakfast bar intently. "And we watched Beaches and I tucked you in and I might've given you something to help you relax."

Quinn's brow furrowed playfully. "Might? When you say it like that, it sounds like you date-raped me."

"Oh, gosh no! We just smoked a little reefer." Rachel took a bite of her cereal bar, congratulating herself on handling the situation so properly.

Now Quinn was concerned. This was what came from associating with an actress. "You have weed in your apartment?"

"No, don't worry, I had to go out and get it. I only ever experimented because I wanted to know why Will Ferrell was so funny."

Quinn calmed down. A little. "So you left me to score some pot?"

"No, no, no, I wouldn't leave you alone in your vulnerable state."

Quinn sat bolt upright. "You took me along to make a drug deal!?"

Rachel moved in to pat Quinn's knee, setting her at ease. "He's just a college kid who likes Bob Marley! He's not even black!"

"Okay, okay, his race doesn't make a difference to me, but okay…"

Rachel was still looking at her with panicking eyes, so to set her mind at ease, Quinn took a big bite of pancake. Rachel nodded, pleased, when Quinn moaned at the taste.

Quinn didn't mention that Rachel's hand was still on her knee. "So what happened while I was all drugged and vulnerable? Anything fun?"

"I slept on the couch," Rachel said proudly. "As I would expect you to do if our situations were reversed."

"I'm not accusing you of anything." Quinn took another bite. Her hunger was finally starting to subside and it was kinda fun, the way Rachel stared at her smacking her lips. "I don't even care. It's just good that nothing happened because… it wouldn't work between us. You and I. Me and anyone."

Rachel took the hit like she'd been waiting for it and it still cracked her in half. "I understand."

Quinn set her plate down with a clatter of silverware. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She should've waited. No, Rachel needed to hear the truth. No, she should've let her down easy. "It's not you. You're great. Beautiful. You're who I should be with, but I'd lose you and you'd lose me and I can't, I can't—not again. Not to you."

"I said I understand, Quinn Fabray!" Rachel stood and, arms crossed, furiously paced around the bed. "Believe it or not, I am a smart person and it occurred to me you might feel this way!" She reached the other side and couldn't get between the headboard and the wall, so she Ved her arms on the mattress and leaned over to Quinn. "My concern for you is that you're a hero and it would be incredibly stupid for a hero to die because she's too stupid to find a decent therapist!"

"What happened with Santana?" Quinn asked as soon as she was done talking.

Rachel slipped a little, trying to hold herself up on the smooth sheets and soft mattress. "Who?"

"Santana. The Reptile. Did they catch her sunning herself on a rock or something?"

Rachel pushed herself back up. "No, the police tracked it into the sewers. They're hunting it down now."

"Good." Quinn threw back her covers and raised an eyebrow at her own undress. "Rachel, I can't go into battle like this. I'm not Emma Frost."

"Costume's drying in the oven. I washed it in the shower. Secret identity."

"Thanks." Quinn made for the kitchen, only wondering when she got to the door if she was sending the wrong signal by walking there in a bra and panties, especially 'battle-damaged' bra and panties. But then maybe the wrong signal was caring if she was seen 40% naked.

Being a lesbian was hard. She was glad she wouldn't have to do it for long.

"But you're not going out there," Rachel insisted, following Quinn into the kitchen. "I know you're supposed to get right back on the horse when you fall off, but in your case, you've fallen off the horse, so you should have bed rest and talk to a psychologist, maybe take up yoga…"

Quinn found her costume. Rachel had actually managed to get the alien bloodstain out of the skirt. Quinn tried not to think about how much effort that had taken. She pulled in on in fits and jerks. "They're going to kill her, Rachel. If she doesn't kill them first. And there's a good person in there, someone people love, and I can save her. I know I can't save everyone, but I can save her. The least I can do is save her."

Rachel was so quiet that Quinn almost thought she had left. She didn't want to turn around to find out. Then, finally, she spoke. "You know I love that about you, Quinn… I'll be here when you get back."

Quinn pulled her boots on. "If I come back, there's no place I'd rather be."

She opened the window and was gone.

Behind her, Rachel made a little broken sound. "If?"