storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2011-02-23 04:10 pm
storypaint) wrote2011-02-23 04:10 pm
Entry tags:
[Glee] fall in mutual weirdness (Quinn/Tina)
Title: fall in mutual weirdness
Fandom: Glee
Length: 2113 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
g_aficexchange: First date (Q/T)
Pairing: Quinn/Tina; mentions of canon pairings
Other: Future-fic. No warnings.
Summary/Excerpt: Quinn and Tina meet again unexpectedly, and this time something new kindles between them. Quinn laughed. "Let me buy you a drink," she offered, the weariness of the day dissolving a little. "She's been calling me too."
Quinn didn't go to her ten-year high school reunion, even after Rachel called and left her a kind but irritatingly condescending voicemail claiming that no one would remember her as that pregnant chick (Quinn knew they would) and that Quinn didn't need to be comparing her success to Rachel's, because Rachel had been training for success ever since birth (and she couldn't care less what Rachel had been up to in the past ten years). She just wasn't interested in going back to Lima. She'd worked hard for her scholarship to Loyola Chicago and sometimes thought Illinois wasn't far enough from her past. If she went, she'd probably sleep with Puck again, against all better judgment, and then her mom would want her to stay a while, and it would be way too easy to fall back into the easy life she'd led, no longer the queen bee but the doting housewife, the devoted daughter.
She wasn't that girl anymore. And she wouldn't be again. Anyway, she had to work that weekend. She was the HR manager at a technical company in the suburbs, which she liked, but when they had weekend events, she was stuck with all the planning and clean-up. She didn't get out of the parking lot until almost 7, when the tent had been taken down and all of the guests shooed home. By that point, she was too exhausted to even listen to the three voicemails that Rachel had apparently left her earlier that day. Yes, she knew she'd missed the reunion. She hadn't promised to come to start with. She still wasn't sure why Rachel had decided they were best friends suddenly.
Quinn was on her way home, dreaming of a warm shower and Criminal Minds reruns, when she decided to stop into her favorite bar and have a drink first. It was Saturday night, after all. She hadn't been out by herself in months. For someone in Human Resources, she was awfully isolated. Which, she reminded herself, was also her choice. She'd go out when she felt like it, where she wanted to go. No more of that chivalry, gallantry, that stupid controlling thing that boys did when they wanted to be romantic. Her last girlfriend had been like that too, come to think of it. Did she attract these kind of people? For heaven's sake, why?
She was still wearing her company polo and work slacks when she came in; she didn't have a change in the car. But this was a popular bar among young professionals anyway, so she didn't feel too out of place.
She pushed her way to the bar and ordered a strawberry daquiri. She never drank very much, but sometimes it was just nice to be in a crowd of people and not have to perform for them. She was anonymous here in Chicago. She'd never taken anyone she'd dated to this bar. She thought of it as hers, in a way.
So when someone called her name, it was a completely surreal feeling. Quinn blinked and looked around, but didn't see anyone she recognized. She chalked it up to mishearing and had taken another sip of her drink when an Asian woman pushed her way past the tall man in front of her and stared at Quinn, disbelieving.
"It is you. I thought so. But I didn't know where you'd moved after school," the woman said, and her voice was familiar, and her dark, ruffled skirt was too. Quinn blinked.
"Tina?" she asked, just as nonplussed. She had no idea why Tina was here and not at the reunion, and that was her first thought. Quinn had never been particularly close with her, after all. Tina had been friends with the first kids who'd joined, Mercedes and Artie and Kurt.
Tina beamed. "You remembered me," she said, sounding almost surprised. Her phone in her hand vibrated suddenly, and she looked at the caller ID and then rolled her eyes.
"Rachel --" she began.
Quinn laughed. "Let me buy you a drink," she offered, the weariness of the day dissolving a little. "She's been calling me too."
Tina let her. She'd only been in Chicago for the last six months or so, she explained as they found a table. She'd been living in New York, but "A starving artist starves to death there," she explained, with a knowing laugh. Quinn was a little fascinated with this Tina, who'd chucked away her shyness for this vibrant personality. She had oil paint in the grooves of her palms and she complained about the clay that got under her nails, even though she kept them short. She hadn't wanted to go to the reunion because the last time she'd went to Lima, Mike and Artie got in a ridiculous fight over her. She was so over that, and them both. Although she and Mike had parted amicably, and remained friends, Artie still had some growing up to do, considering that he was nearly thirty. She didn't feel like picking at that mess.
Quinn began to tell Tina HR horror stories, the ones that her coworkers were used to and her other friends didn't care about. Tina laughed deeply, hand clasped over her stomach as if to hold it in, and when she pushed her hair back out of her face again, Quinn found herself really struck by Tina's beauty. She wanted to brush the stray strands from Tina's face. The idea quieted her. She'd had a few girlfriends in the past -- everyone experimented in college, didn't they? Especially since she was breaking free of her sheltered Christian upbringing. Her therapist had nodded knowingly when she'd mentioned it. The fact remained, though, that Quinn had never had a serious relationship with a girl before, but she wanted to see Tina again, and kiss her more than once. Possibly a lot. She'd thought of herself as mostly straight, but in Tina's case, she really wanted to make an exception.
She'd drifted into contemplative silence, and Tina bit her lip uncomfortably.
"Quinn, you okay?" she asked. "I'm not boring you, are I?"
"Not at all," Quinn said, "not at all. So then the employee..."
By the end of the night, they'd programmed their numbers into each other's phones, and Tina had tucked hair behind Quinn's ear, her fingertips warm on Quinn's skin. She asked Quinn if she wanted to come out next Friday. She might have even said why, but Quinn didn't hear her, concentrated on Tina's touch.
"Yes," she remembered to answer, and she gave Tina a ride home in her car. Tina paused a moment before she got out, leaning a little nearer to Quinn, but Quinn was too uncertain to lean back, just in case she was reading the signs wrong. Tina had casually mentioned a few girls' names when talking about former relationships while they were catching up, and Quinn herself had caught a small satisfied look when she'd done the same. She didn't think she'd imagined that. But this could be just friends getting together again for a drink.
"See you Friday!" Tina promised.
Quinn really hoped this was a date.
*
She dressed like it was, wearing a nice dress that rarely made it out of her closet. It was May in Chicago, which meant that the weather could go bad any moment, but she liked the way that this dress emphasized her slender figure. Since Tina didn't have a car of her own, preferring the Metra or the bus, Quinn picked her up again, noting that Tina wore a simple black dress that showed off her pale skin and long legs. Tina directed her to a small cafe surprisingly close to Quinn's apartment. Somehow she'd never noticed it before. It was a bit dim for Quinn's taste, but she got caught up in talking to Tina and hardly noticed after a while.
They'd both changed a lot since high school. Tina was more confident and Quinn was trying to be kinder. They reminisced a little but mostly they talked about now and the future. They commiserated over bad dates and friends who had babies and then disappeared into smug motherhood, insisting that they'd do just the same in a few years. Neither Quinn nor Tina were very interested in children. They loved Chicago, even its grit, and both occasionally took in a Blackhawks game. They led very different lives, but oddly compatible ones, and when Quinn found herself thinking that, she realized that she was trailing off again.
Tina's hand was firm on Quinn's forearm. She smiled, knocking Quinn back down to earth. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?" she said, trailing a finger down Quinn's arm towards Quinn's palm, which twitched in reflex.
Before Quinn could answer, Tina darted off. Quinn watched a band start to set up on the low stage and hoped they were good, if this was why Tina brought her here. She was starting to wonder when Tina would come back when Tina stepped out onto the stage and grabbed the mike. She squinted through the stagelights to smile at Quinn.
"Welcome!" she said into her mike. Although the cafe was small, there was a surprising number of people in it who yelled back their approval. Quinn realized that she had one of the best seats near the stage.
Without any further introduction, Tina broke into song, her band coming in raggedly behind her. She sang with a high, clear voice that left Quinn wondering why Tina hadn't done more solos in Glee -- she had real talent, and even if this music was weird folk-rock, that talent showed. They played a few songs and Quinn watched, transfixed, until Tina announced the final song and some familar notes rang out. Quinn laughed, able to place them despite the many years it had been since they'd actually performed this song. Tina's gaze fastened on her.
"Quinn, come up here!" she said into the mike. "I know you know the words!"
"What? No," Quinn protested, holding up her hands. "I haven't sang in years --"
"Better to start again now," Tina insisted. She put the mike back on its stand and stepped down off the stage, blinking as she gazed into the darkness, looking for Quinn. She didn't have to look long; spurred on by the agreement of the crowd, Quinn semi-reluctantly found herself at Tina's side. Tina grinned and they stepped back on the stage.
She didn't have a costume and she hadn't sang this song since high school ended. But Tina wrapped her arm possessively around Quinn's waist and shared the mike with her, and they broke out into an oddly solemn version of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance." Quinn tried to keep her voice under Tina's, hoping she could remember the lyrics and stay on key, but the crowd cheered loudly when they finished.
"It's a great show-closer," Tina muttered to Quinn, shutting the mike off and gesturing at her band to encourage applause. She had sweat rolling off her forehead and color high in her cheeks. She looked like she'd had the best time of her life, and Quinn suspected that she looked just the same. She just couldn't quit giggling over how ridiculous it was.
"You didn't wear your bubble dress," she answered Tina as they stepped off the stage and the band began to pack up to allow the next act.
"Can you imagine trying to get that off of me at the end of the night?" Tina said teasingly into Quinn's ear. Desire flowed warmly in Quinn, and when she paused, turning her face to Tina's, Tina kissed Quinn on the forehead, and then on the mouth. Quinn kissed back, letting Tina part her lips and deepen the kiss. When they stopped, they smiled at each other.
"You know," Quinn said, "singing a song like that with me -- is that the kind of precedent you want to set for this relationship?"
Tina laughed, wrapping her arm around Quinn and resting a hand on her hip as she guided them toward the bar.
"I don't know," she answered. "'I want your everything' seems like a good start."
Quinn wanted to protest that it was the rest of the song that was the problem, but then they were kissing again.
It was just like coming home.
Fandom: Glee
Length: 2113 words
Prompt:
g_aficexchange: First date (Q/T) Pairing: Quinn/Tina; mentions of canon pairings
Other: Future-fic. No warnings.
Summary/Excerpt: Quinn and Tina meet again unexpectedly, and this time something new kindles between them. Quinn laughed. "Let me buy you a drink," she offered, the weariness of the day dissolving a little. "She's been calling me too."
Quinn didn't go to her ten-year high school reunion, even after Rachel called and left her a kind but irritatingly condescending voicemail claiming that no one would remember her as that pregnant chick (Quinn knew they would) and that Quinn didn't need to be comparing her success to Rachel's, because Rachel had been training for success ever since birth (and she couldn't care less what Rachel had been up to in the past ten years). She just wasn't interested in going back to Lima. She'd worked hard for her scholarship to Loyola Chicago and sometimes thought Illinois wasn't far enough from her past. If she went, she'd probably sleep with Puck again, against all better judgment, and then her mom would want her to stay a while, and it would be way too easy to fall back into the easy life she'd led, no longer the queen bee but the doting housewife, the devoted daughter.
She wasn't that girl anymore. And she wouldn't be again. Anyway, she had to work that weekend. She was the HR manager at a technical company in the suburbs, which she liked, but when they had weekend events, she was stuck with all the planning and clean-up. She didn't get out of the parking lot until almost 7, when the tent had been taken down and all of the guests shooed home. By that point, she was too exhausted to even listen to the three voicemails that Rachel had apparently left her earlier that day. Yes, she knew she'd missed the reunion. She hadn't promised to come to start with. She still wasn't sure why Rachel had decided they were best friends suddenly.
Quinn was on her way home, dreaming of a warm shower and Criminal Minds reruns, when she decided to stop into her favorite bar and have a drink first. It was Saturday night, after all. She hadn't been out by herself in months. For someone in Human Resources, she was awfully isolated. Which, she reminded herself, was also her choice. She'd go out when she felt like it, where she wanted to go. No more of that chivalry, gallantry, that stupid controlling thing that boys did when they wanted to be romantic. Her last girlfriend had been like that too, come to think of it. Did she attract these kind of people? For heaven's sake, why?
She was still wearing her company polo and work slacks when she came in; she didn't have a change in the car. But this was a popular bar among young professionals anyway, so she didn't feel too out of place.
She pushed her way to the bar and ordered a strawberry daquiri. She never drank very much, but sometimes it was just nice to be in a crowd of people and not have to perform for them. She was anonymous here in Chicago. She'd never taken anyone she'd dated to this bar. She thought of it as hers, in a way.
So when someone called her name, it was a completely surreal feeling. Quinn blinked and looked around, but didn't see anyone she recognized. She chalked it up to mishearing and had taken another sip of her drink when an Asian woman pushed her way past the tall man in front of her and stared at Quinn, disbelieving.
"It is you. I thought so. But I didn't know where you'd moved after school," the woman said, and her voice was familiar, and her dark, ruffled skirt was too. Quinn blinked.
"Tina?" she asked, just as nonplussed. She had no idea why Tina was here and not at the reunion, and that was her first thought. Quinn had never been particularly close with her, after all. Tina had been friends with the first kids who'd joined, Mercedes and Artie and Kurt.
Tina beamed. "You remembered me," she said, sounding almost surprised. Her phone in her hand vibrated suddenly, and she looked at the caller ID and then rolled her eyes.
"Rachel --" she began.
Quinn laughed. "Let me buy you a drink," she offered, the weariness of the day dissolving a little. "She's been calling me too."
Tina let her. She'd only been in Chicago for the last six months or so, she explained as they found a table. She'd been living in New York, but "A starving artist starves to death there," she explained, with a knowing laugh. Quinn was a little fascinated with this Tina, who'd chucked away her shyness for this vibrant personality. She had oil paint in the grooves of her palms and she complained about the clay that got under her nails, even though she kept them short. She hadn't wanted to go to the reunion because the last time she'd went to Lima, Mike and Artie got in a ridiculous fight over her. She was so over that, and them both. Although she and Mike had parted amicably, and remained friends, Artie still had some growing up to do, considering that he was nearly thirty. She didn't feel like picking at that mess.
Quinn began to tell Tina HR horror stories, the ones that her coworkers were used to and her other friends didn't care about. Tina laughed deeply, hand clasped over her stomach as if to hold it in, and when she pushed her hair back out of her face again, Quinn found herself really struck by Tina's beauty. She wanted to brush the stray strands from Tina's face. The idea quieted her. She'd had a few girlfriends in the past -- everyone experimented in college, didn't they? Especially since she was breaking free of her sheltered Christian upbringing. Her therapist had nodded knowingly when she'd mentioned it. The fact remained, though, that Quinn had never had a serious relationship with a girl before, but she wanted to see Tina again, and kiss her more than once. Possibly a lot. She'd thought of herself as mostly straight, but in Tina's case, she really wanted to make an exception.
She'd drifted into contemplative silence, and Tina bit her lip uncomfortably.
"Quinn, you okay?" she asked. "I'm not boring you, are I?"
"Not at all," Quinn said, "not at all. So then the employee..."
By the end of the night, they'd programmed their numbers into each other's phones, and Tina had tucked hair behind Quinn's ear, her fingertips warm on Quinn's skin. She asked Quinn if she wanted to come out next Friday. She might have even said why, but Quinn didn't hear her, concentrated on Tina's touch.
"Yes," she remembered to answer, and she gave Tina a ride home in her car. Tina paused a moment before she got out, leaning a little nearer to Quinn, but Quinn was too uncertain to lean back, just in case she was reading the signs wrong. Tina had casually mentioned a few girls' names when talking about former relationships while they were catching up, and Quinn herself had caught a small satisfied look when she'd done the same. She didn't think she'd imagined that. But this could be just friends getting together again for a drink.
"See you Friday!" Tina promised.
Quinn really hoped this was a date.
*
She dressed like it was, wearing a nice dress that rarely made it out of her closet. It was May in Chicago, which meant that the weather could go bad any moment, but she liked the way that this dress emphasized her slender figure. Since Tina didn't have a car of her own, preferring the Metra or the bus, Quinn picked her up again, noting that Tina wore a simple black dress that showed off her pale skin and long legs. Tina directed her to a small cafe surprisingly close to Quinn's apartment. Somehow she'd never noticed it before. It was a bit dim for Quinn's taste, but she got caught up in talking to Tina and hardly noticed after a while.
They'd both changed a lot since high school. Tina was more confident and Quinn was trying to be kinder. They reminisced a little but mostly they talked about now and the future. They commiserated over bad dates and friends who had babies and then disappeared into smug motherhood, insisting that they'd do just the same in a few years. Neither Quinn nor Tina were very interested in children. They loved Chicago, even its grit, and both occasionally took in a Blackhawks game. They led very different lives, but oddly compatible ones, and when Quinn found herself thinking that, she realized that she was trailing off again.
Tina's hand was firm on Quinn's forearm. She smiled, knocking Quinn back down to earth. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?" she said, trailing a finger down Quinn's arm towards Quinn's palm, which twitched in reflex.
Before Quinn could answer, Tina darted off. Quinn watched a band start to set up on the low stage and hoped they were good, if this was why Tina brought her here. She was starting to wonder when Tina would come back when Tina stepped out onto the stage and grabbed the mike. She squinted through the stagelights to smile at Quinn.
"Welcome!" she said into her mike. Although the cafe was small, there was a surprising number of people in it who yelled back their approval. Quinn realized that she had one of the best seats near the stage.
Without any further introduction, Tina broke into song, her band coming in raggedly behind her. She sang with a high, clear voice that left Quinn wondering why Tina hadn't done more solos in Glee -- she had real talent, and even if this music was weird folk-rock, that talent showed. They played a few songs and Quinn watched, transfixed, until Tina announced the final song and some familar notes rang out. Quinn laughed, able to place them despite the many years it had been since they'd actually performed this song. Tina's gaze fastened on her.
"Quinn, come up here!" she said into the mike. "I know you know the words!"
"What? No," Quinn protested, holding up her hands. "I haven't sang in years --"
"Better to start again now," Tina insisted. She put the mike back on its stand and stepped down off the stage, blinking as she gazed into the darkness, looking for Quinn. She didn't have to look long; spurred on by the agreement of the crowd, Quinn semi-reluctantly found herself at Tina's side. Tina grinned and they stepped back on the stage.
She didn't have a costume and she hadn't sang this song since high school ended. But Tina wrapped her arm possessively around Quinn's waist and shared the mike with her, and they broke out into an oddly solemn version of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance." Quinn tried to keep her voice under Tina's, hoping she could remember the lyrics and stay on key, but the crowd cheered loudly when they finished.
"It's a great show-closer," Tina muttered to Quinn, shutting the mike off and gesturing at her band to encourage applause. She had sweat rolling off her forehead and color high in her cheeks. She looked like she'd had the best time of her life, and Quinn suspected that she looked just the same. She just couldn't quit giggling over how ridiculous it was.
"You didn't wear your bubble dress," she answered Tina as they stepped off the stage and the band began to pack up to allow the next act.
"Can you imagine trying to get that off of me at the end of the night?" Tina said teasingly into Quinn's ear. Desire flowed warmly in Quinn, and when she paused, turning her face to Tina's, Tina kissed Quinn on the forehead, and then on the mouth. Quinn kissed back, letting Tina part her lips and deepen the kiss. When they stopped, they smiled at each other.
"You know," Quinn said, "singing a song like that with me -- is that the kind of precedent you want to set for this relationship?"
Tina laughed, wrapping her arm around Quinn and resting a hand on her hip as she guided them toward the bar.
"I don't know," she answered. "'I want your everything' seems like a good start."
Quinn wanted to protest that it was the rest of the song that was the problem, but then they were kissing again.
It was just like coming home.
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