Private Glee RP for two

[Kettleson]

Here's our adventure featuring Quinn and Rachel. Sansatyrell, let us begin!

[sansatyrell]

It was meant to be a simple assignment. A bonding exercise - intended to strengthen the links between the team. Whilst they'd been a club for over a year now - long since enough time that everyone knew each other - there was still friction, strife. Enough that it was threatening their chances of winning. It was clear - after the 3rd argument that week - that something had to be done about it. Which was why their coach, Will, had paired them up. Told them to share secrets and vulnerabilities, thinking, logically, that it would deepen trust between them.

Problem was, Quinn Fabray would quite happily do without anyone else knowing her deepest secrets. Secrets, she had always thought, were weaknesses. Very, very useful to know when it came to others, could be exploited at any time, and something you never shared, even with those you fully trusted, lest they turn on her one day. It was a long mantra, to be sure, but it had served her well for years. That wasn't about to change just for some silly little glee club. And certainly not when she was paired with one miss Rachel Berry - who would be the most notorious for having an incredible inability to keep secrets, if it were not for JBI and his rabid blogosphere - needless to say, Quinn avoided him even more.

And yet, she was unable to return to Cheerios, still. Refused to, even, after all but Brittany and Santana shunned her - her pride made it impossible to return, even if they begged. (Which one freshman girl had done, shocked to realise how invaluable Quinn's skill for strategy and routine was to the squad. Quinn had merely laughed, cruelly.) Quinn had a thirst - a need, really, for competing. And she did truly enjoy performing. It wasn't quite being on top of the pyramid, but dancing to the routines was still fun, in a way. And there was just as much drama - which was enjoyable when she wasn't involved in it. Or, at least she'd pretend, trying to hide the sympathy for the others that had become more common as time went on. She wouldn't admit it - not yet - but she enjoyed glee club. So she'd do the dumb assignment, even if it meant making up some silly fake secret.

It wasn't like she would ever be able to admit her true deepest secret, not without being locked up. Confessing her desire to roast up her classmates? Not something that would end well. Pushing away those thoughts - trying to suppress the twist in her stomach - Quinn pushed open the classroom door, nodding across at her partner. "Berry," she said, cordially - with more kindness than she would have imagined a year ago. "Let's get this thing over with, I've got way better things to do."

[Kettleson]

'Good, you've arrived.' said Rachel sitting on a desk and waving a notepad to her fellow club member's direction. 'I think we should hurry with this. As the dead line for our assignment is tomorrow already, we have absolutely no time to waste. I made a list of my private affairs in alphapetical order last night, and tried to select one that would be the most fitting to share with a choir member particularly. Do you happen to know if the assignment is rated according to the degree of embarrassment of our secrets or our co-operation in general. Not that I crave for A+ like a hungry hyena, but it would be nice under one's belt, nevertheless. Given that the proper execution of the assignment turns out to be for the common benefit of the entirety of our group. So for the common good, I'm willing to disclose about my secret. Here it goes: At the elementary school, I used to hold slumberparties where I sort of forced my guests to perform with me to my dads. If it happened that some of the girls didn't want to sing, they were shy for some absurd reason or something, I sang their stems on a record and they had to perform playback. One of the girls actually moved away soon after the event and others and I are not in speaking terms, so there you have it. My over-eagerness ruined my social life when I was a kid. And I was so certain at the time that I was doing them a favour and we all were having great time. I guess not everyone's born to stardom.' She straightened her mini skirt with scottish square pattern pridefully and turned to Fabray.
'What do you think? Does that do the trick form my part?'

[sansatyrell]

A little overwhelmed by the sheer volume of words thrown at her by Rachel, Quinn waited it out, doing her best not to drift away into daydreams - the poster on the molecular structure of iodine suddenly looking far more interesting than it ever had. When Rachel finally stopped talking - and after a moment more, to make sure it wasn't another pause for breath (sometimes Quinn suspected Rachel still ingested small doses of Vitamin D, with her constant energy, and would believe it if the starlet wasn't such a damn stickler for rules), Quinn raised a brow, resting against another table, etched with the scratching of students long since graduated, likely still living in the area. The school's low budget royally sucked, for sure - but it was amusing seeing carved names and messages reaching as far back as the 80s.

"First - you seriously need to relax. This is a project for glee, it's not exactly College Coursework. It's not even graded. I know you care about the New Directions to a freakish extent," and so did Quinn, though she was less ready to admit that, "But it's not as if there's nothing else in life - which I know would require you having a life, but try to imagine." Quinn nodded, gathering her thoughts, making a point to seem relaxed, even as she caught as sight of Rachel's shapely legs, images of them on a plate flashing unbidden into her mind. "Second, you can't qualify trust. They're not about to grade our friendship, as little as there is. This is about trust, which they can only see through work. And Lord, that makes it sound like I give a crap, which I don't. Finally - your great secret is Rachel Berry is bad at being social?" she scoffed a little, pushed her feet against the floor and sat properly on the table. "Never would have guessed that..."

[Kettleson]

'Well,' started the Berry girl, lifting her chin slightly and straightening her back. 'There you have it, anyway. My share of the assignment is done. She didn't want to show that she was hurt by her fellow McKinleyan's harsh, harsh words but she wasn't quite sure how to prevent it from showing. She decided that the best way to keep her cool was to 'let loose' a bit.
'Well if THAT didn't come as secrety enough for you,' Rachel said expressing great indifference towards almost every insightful remark Quinn had made on her perfectionism. 'I was alternatively going to tell you that I used to wear leg warmers at junior high. Why am I not wearing them anymore, you might well ask.'
Quinn didn't ask.
'Well I tell you anyway', Rachel decided, 'One fine yet fatal day, not long time after the start of my high school career, Kurt got hold of them and burnt them. You may not remember that but that's what happened anyway.'
Quinn was studing the educational poster on the wall again.
'Look at me exposing every eeny-tiny reason for humiliation like an oaf. You've got me to share TWO secrets already. I think it's your turn to give me somethin else than trash talk in exchange. I need to know your secret, Fabray.
By the end of Berry's babbling Quinn had learnt the iodine better than her own hands.

[sansatyrell]

"Well, I live such an exciting life here in Ohio," Quinn said, the first time that day that her sarcasm had been directed at something other than Rachel Berry. "But I guess I have a few secrets." Her internal monologue laughed at that, and her memory flashed back to a month before. It had been 2 in the morning, and she'd woken after an intense dream in which she had grilled Tina. She'd been a little shocked, a little amused, and very, very aroused. Unable to sleep until she'd explored her folds with nimble fingers, it had become a routine, almost every night before sleeping - imagining her female classmates cooking in various ways. And if that weren't enough - Rachel had featured in several of them. More than Quinn wanted to admit to herself.

"Two then. Sometimes, when a cheerleader gave me sass, I'd consider spanking her. Never seriously, but it would teach them." Quinn worried, a little, that Rachel would judge this... Interest, that Quinn had, but she supposed it was far more vanilla than the other option. "But if you want something personal - and a second secret, I suppose..." she considered it, trying to find something that seemed plausible, so Rachel wouldn't ask any more questions. "Last summer, when my parents were out, I sometimes sunbathed nude."

[Kettleson]

'Oh, I know that feeling! Don't let me even get started about every single time I feel like smacking my fellow glee clubbers with a mic stand in our practice!'
Quinn would very much try her best not to let her get started but she didn't quite know what.
'Especially you!' Rachel got inspired, 'You're sometimes absolutely impossible when I try to out of the goodness of my heart give you one simple tip that would make your performance so much better with such little effort. You never listen! It's insufferable. But,' Rachel gave a chuckle, crossing her legs and leaning towards Quinn, 'I suppose you've thought hurting me, too, in return. Maybe while you're bathing in the sun at your... state of not being as dressed as you possibly could be. And I don't judge, really. But surely your exposure of your exposure is NOTHING compared to my disclosure, you must admit. Didn't you hear me: I ruined my. Social standing. In one night!' the unpopular girl articulated emphasizing every word carefully, 'You, too, HAVE to have some other secrets in store. Something bold and daring.'

[sansatyrell]

"Not bold, or daring?" Quinn laughed at that, but the harshness of earlier was gone. "I'm going to ignore your threats of violence, and your assumptions that I'm violent too-" Quinn smirked a little at that; if only Rachel knew, "As I try to be a pacifist. But not daring? You don't know my family. If they found out I was... Dabbling in nudism - well, they would not be happy." It wasn't an entire lie. She had tanned nude, and her parents would certainly react badly if they discovered as such. But Quinn was far less embarrassed than she put on - allowing herself to imagine carving a slice of Rachel's leg, to make her blush, hoping it seemed real. "Convinced yet?"

[Kettleson]

Rachel waved one of her lower limbs on top of the other one absent-mindedly as she weighed on Quinn's reasoning. Then she got back to her notepad, tapping it with a pen thoughtfully. She chewed the pen. Then she finally started to write down.
'I'm writing down one more embarrassing occation I just remembered having happened to me, if you were wondering,' Rachel explained. 'I think it's important to be thorough. You were telling about your sunbathing and your parents' possible reaction to that, and I couldn't help thinking the event I had to experience last summer. You won't believe this but I tell you anyway. Last summer, I got sun burns all over my body, at least on the areas of it that weren't protected by my bikinis. I was absolutely steaming hot and the burns hurt like whatnot, I was almost dark red in color, and my dads had read from somewhere that lemmon helps in sun burns. Well, spoiler alert, it didn't. But they couldn't have known it beforehand. So they rubbed my belly and neck and face with a fresh lemmon that made my skin get even more brownish in color if possible and it stinged, too. Plus I smelled like lemmons like for a week afterwards. I'm glad they hadn't read anywhere that onions were good for first aid skin problems. Imagine that!'

[sansatyrell]

Quinn followed the pen with her eyes, watching as it tapped against the notepad. Even here, Rachel was somewhat musical - and whilst she was hardly a percussionist, there was a slight beat to it. Relaxing, she felt the blush fade away, and crossed one leg over the other, looking up again when Rachel spoke, finding herself listening almost avidly. When Rachel explained what she was doing, she nodded despite slight annoyance - but pushing that annoyance away. Relaxation was better for her, she reminded herself, and so she listened more. At first, she winced, feeling shivers run up and down her skin, imagining the sunburn. She was about to snark that there's a reason people use suncream, when Rachel mentioned lemon.

The idea of Rachel laying there, covered in lemon juice, looking like she was roasting up - Quinn's mouth immediately watered, and she found herself licking her lips - before darting her tounge back into her mouth, pressing it against her lower teeth, hoping Rachel hadn't noticed the daze she'd gone into. But still, she imagined, and fast the beach turned into a kitchen, rubbing zest into Rachel's skin, smirking as she pushed her into an oven... Almost drooling, Quinn dragged herself back to reality. "Sun lotion is important," she manged, her voice slightly less sharp than before, "Especially if you do want to try skinny dipping one day. I don't know why your dads rubbed lemon in instead of that - unless they were planning to let you roast there." Quinn laughed. It was risky, but perhaps making a joke out of it would get it out of her system.

[Kettleson]

Yeah, they are a bit silly sometimes. They wanted to try out something hip with the lemon, I assume. Also, it's quite indie to plan a roast on Independence Day and not for Thanksgiving, I guess', Rachel laughed getting more comfortable at Quinn's company whose sense of humour had started to intrigue her. 'I recently read an article where it said that eight hours in the sun without proper protection equals three hours in a sauna and one in the oven,' she continued. 'Luckily, I didn't fall asleep that day and become a human turkey.' Rachel laughed a light-hearted laugh. She noticed her own lack of uptightness. In some bizarre way, she felt exceptionally relieved and comfortable in her own skin all of a sudden. She glanced at Quinn playfully: 'Um... Your mouth is watering.'

[sansatyrell]

Quinn was surprised to find herself laughing along with Rachel, sides of her eyes crinkling as the quiet, genuine chuckle rose up from her throat. "I doubt - even if it is indie to have a roast on July 4th - that your dads would choose you as the main course, a little frowned upon." Joking about this came easily, and whilst it wasn't talking directly about it - something Quinn was sure still was a complete and utter impossibility - it still helped, in a way, to get it out. She'd had more than a month of it being pent up - this was like cool water in the Sahara.

"Oh, is that true?" Quinn asked, about the article, mind wandering, completely unaware of the glistening of her lips by this point. "Yes, you becoming a turkey would be quite unfortunate," she laughed again, louder this time, more relaxed - before Rachel pointed out how, well, hungry Quinn looked all of a sudden. For a split second, her eyes widened, but she simply swallowed, shrugged it off. "All this talk of turkey," she lied, "it's made me think about thanksgiving."

[Kettleson]

Rachel's eyes were shining, not manically fewerishly, like usually, but genuine, jovial light. She leaned further towards Quinn and said:
'Frowned upon? How's that? I wasn't kosher enough?' As she was laughing at her own joke she couldn't help noticing she was being even more dorky than usual. But Quinn's attitude was so welcoming. Rachel couldn't quite put her finger to it, but something in the way Quinn reacted to her stupid jokes about being food to her fathers was different than the way Fabray tended to scorn at her outfits, pushiness and what not. Rachel felt accepted, and it felt so damn good. It felt grand. She realized she trusted her fellow choir member whole-heartedly all of a sudden, and hoped from the bottom of that very organ that the popular girl felt the same way about her. Rachel caught up with Quinn's delightful chit-chat managing even more playful, silly, overly formal tone in her own voice:
'Miss Fabray, the way you hurried to explain your watering mouth away, is reminding me of the big bad wolf in an alarming manner. You know, "So I could see you better, little red' and all that.

[sansatyrell]

"Fine," Quinn joked, with an impish grin. "I'm sure your fathers would be delighted to cook you, and are just waiting for the right day. Is that what you want to hear?" Quinn worried, momentarily, that she'd gone too far - and back-pedalled quickly. "Not that I believe they'd ever hurt you," she added, nodding to convince herself, then chuckled again, a little awkwardly this time. But the shining in Rachel's eyes as Quinn glanced into them - the realisation that oh, Rachel actually was beginning to trust Quinn, relaxed the ex cheerleader. Even as there was a twisting in her gut, as she realised she wasn't deserving of that trust, as a part of her was imagining Rachel's extended family dining on a July 4th feast of lemon zest Berry roast.

"I can assure you I'm not a wolf," Quinn promised - one of the only honest things she'd said that day. "Plus, I wear contacts, not glasses. And before you ask," fairy tales seemed safe, somehow, even if there was a part of her that wouldn't shut up about trying to convince Rachel to volunteer as family dinner, "I'm not a witch, either, and I don't own a gingerbread house."

[Kettleson]

'Well THOSE would be some secrets I would accept as secrety enough without a quarrel!', Rachel said pretending to be serious and that she meant business. As she was stating that, she jumped off the table all pompous and important. She reached the pen and raised the notepad in an graceful, formal manner, 'Should I write that down as your embarrassing little secret, ms. witch?'

[sansatyrell]

Quinn smiled fondly - then grew shocked. Fondly? Already? And yet, it was true - she was growing fond of Rachel as they spoke. It was unexpected, and yet a pleasant surprise. She decided she could easily grow used to this fondness. "You already have my secret, my inclination towards nudism. Witchcraft isn't something I dabble in - if I did, I'd certainly flaunt my magic." She considered making a joke about cooking people in a pot, but decided against it - it was growing too close to the truth.

[Kettleson]

Rachel tried not to laugh as she reached for more and more severe and serious tone: 'But how strong is that inclination, is the main question. Oh, that is the question, indeed. Miss Fabray, I want to be certain you aren't cheating with this deadly-serious assignment. Think about what Mr. Schue would say if he caught us not playing clean. He would be most furious, he would get us both expelled for good. Are you sure you want to take that risk. Well, I don't, out of the question! Miss Quinn, how do I make sure you have a thing for nudism? I simply MUST be sure. Any suggestions?''

[sansatyrell]

"Okay, just pointing out again that this isn't a graded assignment," Quinn said - echoing her words from earlier, but far kinder this time, far softer. Almost as if it was an in joke. Rachel's strict voice made Quinn roll her eyes in amusement, and lean back against the table, though her mind scrambled for a response - there was only so long she could procrastinate without Rachel becoming suspicious. "Well, I want to go to a nude beach one day. Maybe Brittany would go with me," Quinn thought, genuinely considering It. "As for making sure? You're going to have to take it on faith."

[Kettleson]

'I'm surprised you actually felt like telling me about nude beaches of all things,' Rachel said cheerfully, fascinated by this new, vulnerable side of her fellow choir member usually so calm and collected. Every little detail about Quinn was making her suddenly weirdly curious. It turned out she knew hardly anything about her to begin with, 'And don't worry, I'm not that obsessed, I was merely trying to joke about the severity of the assignment at this point.' Berry added on a sidenote, smiled warmly and leaned forward to touch Quinns's hands for a nanosecond, then turned her back at her again and continued walking about the classroom, 'I think we have had great time together this far whether Mr. Schue is happy with our work or not. To be honest I think we could throw the assignment out of the window and it wouldn't bother me one bit. That's what I really think right now. Why do I feel like everyone else is so much better signaling when they're joking and when they're not. I think I lack some magic ability to read and use social cues that everyone else seems to have.' Rachel sighed a wistful sigh. She had sat down on a desk again. She waved her legs in the air and stared at the floor. 'Every time I start in a new place, with new people, I feel like I get completely destroyed. Stepped on by others. Or, 'eaten alive', if you like.' Rachel winked at Quinn, she didn't quite know why she thought it was appropriate. Then she got more serious and wistful again: 'I guess you never get that feeling yourself. You're so smooth and... natural at acting cool, even when you're talking about nude beaches. I really admire that.'

[sansatyrell]

"I think I understand what you mean," Quinn murmured, her voice surprisingly sensitive. "I guess I've always found it easy to... Socialise - but only in that I have this persona around me, that deters people from challenging me. And it's still me, and I love who I am - but admittedly, it does make it a little difficult to just relax, to show any weakness. That's what's nice about this, I guess. You're not judging me for doing something outside of the perfect head cheerio. Hence; nude beaches." It was true, really, and Quinn's honesty was unexpected, even from her. But it felt nice, to open up. Not fully - of course but... Somewhat.

Trying to lighten the mood a little, she smirked - to show she was joking - and added "I promise you, you wouldn't be eaten alive. Nah, the cheerios would want to cook up someone like you first, can't eat you raw." She hoped it would make Rachel laugh - and despite the pleasure Quinn got at imagining that scenario, the focus there was helping Rachel.