This fic is going to be a series of oneshots based on this prompt by Rocker9113:
Vampire/Goth/Pyrokinetic/GP! Rachel is a loner who lives alone (no living family since she's rather old) and is a member of a sports team. She attends McKinley, and falls in love with Punk!Quinn, (who finds Rachel's diary one day and discovers that she is a vampire). Their relationship develops slowly and at some point Quinn convinces her to feed from her.
(Side notes: Finn has a crush on one of them but he doesn't get what he wants. They are each other's firsts in every way.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee or the idea.
-/-
Rachel scowled as she skulked down the noisy corridor.
She didn't know what it was that had drawn her to this place. She had roamed freely for 200 years and never once heard Lima being mentioned as a place of note.
Nothing ever happened here.
She internally mused that, maybe, that would be a good thing for her. She did often find herself being chased from town to town; continent to continent...
Maybe sleepy, small town Ohio would give her chance to rest.
After all, two centuries of travel and she had yet to find her mate.
It was that hope which had led her to this town. She had felt something calling to her and she hoped it was a sign that her mate was near.
It had frustrated her to no end, to hear of humans having multiple soul mates in their short lives, and she had yet to meet one.
Sometimes she feared she would never meet them. That maybe they had passed on while she travelled, or that they would not be inclined to agree to her romantic pursuit of them.
That was why she had enrolled as a freshman at McKinley High. She figured she might as well further her education whilst she was in town. Get her out of the house. Maybe she could-
With a jolt to her body; she was almost ready to snarl at the offender, when her body randomly snapped to attention, seemingly of its own accord.
She swallowed hard as a heavenly scent filled her nose, and her eyes fixated on a girl -taller than herself- that had bright pink hair, wearing a tattered check shirt with the arms crudely cut off, a red tartan skirt with black tights and black combat boots.
She was the one.
Rachel could feel it with every fibre of her being, and it made her scowl turn upward into a small smile.
Now she needed to get to know her.
-/-
Quinn Fabray was someone that Rachel found herself fascinated by.
Not just because she was in love with her, but because she was so complex.
She could beat the crap out of any asshole who dared to make a move on her, yet she would tear up every time they watched the Lion King.
She was a delightful mystery and Rachel's best, and only, friend.
They had become acquainted when Rachel followed her between classes, which she could admit was rather creepy (but she had been alone for so long that she dared not to miss a moment of her mate's presence). She had seen Pinky signing up for something and of course she had proceeded to sign up too.
As she understood it, Glee Club was a show choir. Rachel was well versed in the arts and had been able to witness much of the evolution of music, which she was impressed to observe being demonstrated by an a cappella group named "Pentatonix". She would sing if necessary but in truth, this was simply a way to engage with "Quinn Fabray". (The name that was neatly penned onto the sheet tacked onto the cork board.)
The auditions were private, so she was uncertain if Quinn had secured a place or not until their first rehearsal.
She was pleased to see that she had, and that she was lurking in the back row, looking incredibly disinterested in the goings on.
Rachel had quietly approached her, and asked if it was alright to sit near her. She had chosen to sit on a seat that was separated from Quinn's by another. She had understood that it was a modern social faux pas to sit right next to someone when there were spare seats available.
She was much unused to the changing social laws. (In all honesty, she was a bit behind the times before she was turned into a vampire.) However, one thing she truly disliked about this decade was the disappearance of chivalry. It was not an act that required a great deal of effort, to simply hold a door open for others, to recall your manners or to conduct oneself with a degree of decorum.
When she had noticed little acts of chivalry being conducted, they were either mocked or thought to be highly unusual...
She was getting off the point. Quinn had fixed her with a penetrating stare before shrugging. Rachel had recently become accustomed to this nonverbal expression of opinion and understood it to mean that she did not mind her presence.
The ritual had repeated itself over the next few weeks, and she always ensured to get a seat beside the blonde in the few classes they shared. Eventually, leading to the blonde holding her back after rehearsals.
Rachel had been confused, as the blonde seemed to avoid physical contact with people as much as possible, yet she was choosing to hold her arm.
Quinn had been quite irritated by her constant presence apparently, not understanding why she was so eager to pair up with her or hang around her.
That had caused the brunette to smile. "I like it because we don't have to talk to understand one another."
With that statement she had left, letting the blonde realise that it was true. If they ever needed to borrow a pen or something a nudge and gesture was sufficient. It was something that she understood to be normal between mates. Not that she had had much guidance in vampiric customs. (She didn't even know whether or not if 'vampiric' was a valid lexical choice, but she felt she was damn well entitled to bear some influence over the English language, considering she had to hear various ridiculous words come to the fore of general speech). She as digressing again…
The next day, Quinn had approached her. The pink haired punk did not utter a word but simply gave her a nod.
From that day, they were friends.
-/-
That was over a year ago. They were no longer freshmen, but sophomores. Rachel had also joined the football team at the start of the year, much to Quinn's displeasure.
The reason she did so was purely selfish. She could care less about whether or not the McKinley Titans improved, or won any games, she was focused on making sure Finn Hudson was NOT the star player.
The lumbering oaf had been sniffing around Quinn and neither of the girls appreciated it. Surprisingly, Quinn was more accepting of his presence but continually rejected his advances. Rachel was much more hostile, which was something of a role reversal between the pair. Whilst Quinn general inspired fear in anyone that chose to cross paths with her, Rachel tried to avoid any excessive contact with people.
Rachel had promptly decided that drastic action had to be taken when the Leaning Tower of Lima had the audacity to serenade Her mate! HERS! So she did the only rational thing and joined the one team that boosted the abnormally tall creature's popularity, and stole his spotlight.
It was also nice that Quinn always came to her games for support.
"Why blue?" The whispered question made Rachel raise her head from her notebook, where she was transcribing her latest dream, to look at Quinn. The punk was leaning to the side, waiting for a response but keeping her head facing forward, which gave Rachel a glimpse down her shirt to the swelling mounds of gloriously pale flesh. She quickly dropped her gaze and snapped the book shut, trying to cover the slight swelling in her jeans. She thought she had control over this by now…
"Sorry, what?" Rachel murmured, wracking her brain for unpleasant things. The time she was shot in Paris, stabbed in Rome, attempted staking in Washington… She sighed in relief as she felt the uncomfortable pressure receding.
"Why blue streaks in your hair?"
Rachel blinked, and ran her hand over her messy hair. Quinn really was an enigma. "Hidden depths- like the ocean, why pink?" Rachel smiled, glancing to her right and seeing the corners of rosy lips curving upward.
"My dad wanted a boy, pink pisses him off." Rachel huffed out a laugh and shook her head. Quinn took special pleasure in making the bigot squirm. Rachel had been enraged when she learned that the man had tried to throw Quinn out when she told him she preferred the female form, thankfully Judy had thrown him out instead and that somewhat soothed her rage. However, she did hunt him down and had a long feed from him.
She might have then had a little fun and stripped him, paid a male hooker to pose with him while she took pictures, then hung around in the shadows to watch his reaction in the morning. She also had the idea to write a very strong worded letter threatening him that, should he ever try and impede Quinn in any way the pictures would find their way into the public's mail boxes. (She was there when alimony and child support had arrived in the post the next day, along with a promise to fund Quinn's college career).
"You suit it."
"So do you." Quinn turned her head to meet Rachel's intense gaze and grinned at her before bumping her with her shoulder.
"Berry, are you coming or not?" Rachel frowned as she had to look away from Quinn to Finn. It was a most unpleasant transition. Her eyes actually hurt from gazing at his hulking form. It was apparent that they had missed the end of the meeting and not heard Schue's dismissal.
"What?" Rachel snapped. She was supposed to be getting a ride from Quinn and then she would walk home from there after hanging out for a while.
"Practise?"
"Yeah, football practise. We gotta go now." Rachel slumped as Finn turned and slunk out the door. Great… Maybe she would at least get to tackle him.
"Sorry, Quinn. I guess I'll see you later." Quinn nodded with a sad smile, as Rachel quickly grabbed her bag and ran out the door.
"Oh, Rachel, wait!" The punk called after her friend but she was already gone. Sometimes she was mystified by how quickly she moved. Quinn picked up the worn notebook that had fallen to the ground in the goth's hastened exit from the choir room.
She had seen the notebook many times over the past year, but Rachel had always kept it close to her person. She never let it out of her sight.
The temptation to open it was fierce but as a private person, Quinn would be furious if someone read her private journal, if that's what it even was.
She was simply going to return it to her friend, unopened. Except, a page fell out.
She bent down to pick it up and gasped. On the page was a drawing of her. It was an amazing piece of artwork, with intense amounts of detail, and she was extremely flattered. Rachel was very talented. She wondered when she had drawn it...
The desire to view other pieces of Rachel's hidden talent compelled her to open the book. After all, Rachel need never know, but Quinn's admiration of her mysterious friend would only grow.
She flicked through the pages, her eyes tracing over every sketch. Almost all were of her; sitting in glee, in the park, and even simply doing her homework. She smiled softly, she had hoped Rachel liked her as more than a friend but wasn't sure. The dedication demonstrated in the intricate drawings were substantial evidence that supported the hypothesis of Rachel fancying her. (Although, Quinn believed 'fancying' to be too immature a verb for Rachel).
Her quick flick through the pages began to slow as her intelligent gaze spotted a few words, pulling her in for a closer look.
Slowly, Quinn lowered herself into the uncomfortable and unyielding plastic chair, her hazel eyes rapidly scanning each line of writing as the scribblings caused her mind to race.
She had to stop, close the book, the open it at the beginning. She could scarcely believe what she read. At first she thought that Rachel might be penning a novel, but on closer inspection and further reading that notion felt less likely.
It was a far too personal account of various episodes in history. The imagery was far too vivid to be simply described as fantastical. It was a first-hand account of the last hundred years of the world. Not in chronological order, but jumbled together as if they were being recollected. It was also clear that the language did not change, the person that wrote these accounts was the same, and Quinn recognised the penmanship and language style of her closet friend.
Her heart raced as she thought of the girl who favoured isolation. The girl who moved with effortless grace and had old age etiquette. From what she read; with details of feeding and blood, incidents of healing from normally mortal wounds, and enhanced human senses/abilities, it would certainly give credence to the theory of vampires being in existence.
Quinn shook her head and snapped the book shut. This was why you didn't look through things that didn't belong to you, they say curiosity killed the cat. This was ridiculous. Rachel was not a vampire! So what if she wasn't exactly the most social person, and she had yet to go to her house or meet her parents (that she had never actually spoken of), or that she didn't really express interest in anyone but Quinn.
"Practise was cancelled and I think I left my-" Rachel stopped speaking as she stilled in the doorway, her eyes taking in the sight of Quinn holding her journal with trembling hands. That was her tenth one. She thought it would be good to write down things she remembered but filled most of the others with doodles on her travels. "You read it."
Quinn stood and stepped back as Rachel took a step forward.
"Are you a vampire?" Quinn felt stupid as soon as the words left her mouth but it was the main thought running around her head.
"Yes." Rachel stated, straightening her spine and standing to her full height, which, was still less than Quinn's.
The punk's eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the easy admission, "What!? No, you're not!"
Rachel sighed. Why ask a question if you will not believe the honest answer? "I think you'll find, that I am." She flitted, right in front of Quinn, who let out a small squeak at the sudden appearance of the brunette a mere foot away. "I'm not going to hurt you Quinn. You're my friend."
Quinn swallowed, then held up the leather bound book. "Yeah, from the sounds of it you want more!" She could front this out. A vampire was no match for her... Her what? Droll wit? Yeah, right. She was just waiting for Rachel to plunge her fangs into her jugular and drain her dry- which she had ample time to do, when she slept over at her home- but she was blocking that out.
"Yes, I do. Alas, I am content with friendship if that is all you wish to share with me." Rachel figured honesty was still the best policy, Quinn's heart was racing but there was little fear there... It actually seemed more like nervous excitement.
"Y-you do? Are you serious?" Quinn folded her arms, this was unbelievable. Rachel did in fact like like her and she was apparently a vampire.
"You are my mate. I am compelled to make you happy, in whichever capacity you allow." Rachel lowered her voice slightly. Despite being a confident person, she was still a creature that had insecurities. She was always terrified of rejection.
"Mate!" Quinn's voice was shrill. "How the hell is that supposed to work? What the heck do you want from me? The blood of a virgin?"
Rachel shifted her weight. "When I was... Turned... Certain physical characteristics are altered to make mating possible within the pairs. Besides that, I want to make you happy. I have said this already."
Quinn's eyes lowered from the molten chocolate to the black denim crotch of the smaller girl. "Altered characteristics? Like you have a..."
Rachel rolled her eyes, even as her cheeks heated up. "Yes. I have a penis."
"Oh." Quinn's cheeks flushed. She recalled various times when she thought there was a odd protrusion in Rachel's jeans or shorts and now she knew what it was. All reinforcing the case that Rachel did actually like her. "So, you don't want my blood?"
"No thank you. I'd prefer if you kept all that in you, as delicious as it may be. I feed often enough with no problem. I don't actually kill people when I feed either."
Quinn slowly nodded, the tension slowly ebbing from her body. "You're a vampire."
Rachel gave a small smile. "Yes, I am. Would you like to come home with me? I think I can explain everything better there."
Quinn didn't really need to think about it for a great deal of time. Rachel was still worthy of her trust, if anything, Quinn should not be trusted for she read Rachel's private journal without permission.
"Alright. I'll drive. You give me directions." Quinn tossed the book to the brunette and walked out of the choir room. She could do this...
-/-
Quinn looked around Rachel's home with curiosity.
For someone who lived alone, it felt surprisingly welcoming. It had a colour scheme comprised mainly of deep blue or rich red accented with black. The bold colours really suited Rachel.
The overall home was larger than her one and had taken half an hour to drive to it. It was very open plan in the downstairs and she was interested to see what the upstairs looked like but was content to be getting some answers from the girl sitting across from her.
They were in the kitchen, seated opposite one another at the mahogany table, each cradling a glass of water.
Hazel eyes roamed over the familiar figure in front of her. Rachel sat with impeccable posture, her fringe hanging slightly down over her eyes, as she met Quinn's stare. Her leather jacket was still firmly in place, her dark t-shirt clinging to her body, and she knew from experience Rachel's legs would be crossed under the table. Most likely swinging back and forward almost unnoticeably.
"So, I can ask you anything?" Quinn tilted her head to the side and traced her fingertip along the rim of her glass.
"Anything, but I reserve the right to not answer." Rachel responded with a firm nod.
"Fair enough... How old are you?"
"Two hundred and seventeen this December. I was eighteen when I was turned."
Quinn swallowed. Quite the age gap... "What do you mean turned? Like you got bit by another one of you? How many are there?" Was there a mass army assembling or something crazy like that? What was she thinking? This whole scenario was insane! Yet, here she was, having followed a vampire home to its lair. Was it called a lair? Holy shit! Did she sleep in a coffin?
"Yes I was bitten, by my fiancé. I do not know if there are many others. I have only encountered two more on my travels. I was just turned eighteen and promised to a man named Jesse St James... He was not the type of person who cared much for others opinions." Rachel shot her a sad smile, making Quinn's fingers twitch with the desire to hold the small tan hand on the table top. "It would not have been a very happy marriage. I was quite outspoken, even then. One night I heard screaming and came downstairs in a mad rush, foolish really. I had not possessed the forethought that an assailant would have no trouble overcoming a frantic unarmed young woman. I was halted in my steps by the sight that lay before me..."
At the distance in Rachel's eyes, and the slight quiver in her voice, Quinn gave into temptation and grabbed Rachel's hand in her own. "I found my young brother, only five, my mother and my father dead on the floor. They had had their throats ripped out, their blood was everywhere and there was Jesse. He was still crouched by my father's side with his mouth covered in blood. Then he saw me and just attacked." A hand moved to a slim neck in an absentminded caress, Quinn squeezing her hand in support. "I managed to grab a poker from the hearth and drive it through his back when he got on top of me. The heart is the only way to kill my kind... I was so lost for the next few years. I had no idea what had happened to me and how to control it... It was not easy."
"Have you ever killed anyone?" Quinn was hesitant in voicing her question but it was something she felt that she needed to know. She did not know, however, if the answer would alter her feelings. She still felt the same attraction to Rachel, and maybe it had deepened, but she felt a morbid curiosity with this subject.
"No. I did come close with my first feed, but, that was because I didn't really know what I was doing and had bitten out of instinct. I hadn't know what I needed to survive."
Quinn nodded in understanding. Then caught herself. How could she possibly understand what Rachel meant when she talked about nearly draining a human being dry of blood? What was wrong with her, that made her not fearful or repulsed by the girl sitting across from her?
Brown eyes drifted down to Quinn's now empty glass and she rose from her seat to lift their empty glasses then place them in the sink.
Quinn watched her move to the worktop and rinse out the glass, rubbing them with a sponge before sticking them in the drying rack.
The fact that Rachel was almost a two hundred year old vampire and doing the dishes was possibly the weirdest thing about her whole day.
Yet, Rachel never acted as though she was superior to anyone else. Yes, she didn't like to associate herself with the majority of their peers, but neither did Quinn. Most of them were hormone driven idiots.
She felt at ease around Rachel because she was mature (a few centuries more than she thought) and like minded. Having recovered from her early hysteria and recognising that Rachel seemingly had no desire to use her as a blood bag, she was simply curious about her.
Something she had been from their first encounter.
"This whole mating thing..."
Rachel turned to face her, leaning against the kitchen units with her hands gripping the black granite work top. A small smile played along her lips. "I don't know the extent of affection you feel for me... Essentially, the process -from what I understand- means that we are bonded to one another. It means that my existence is to ensure your happiness, kind of. Although, my feelings of 'affection' for you are very intense."
Quinn frowned, "What does that mean?"
Rachel chewed her lip in thought. "Well, whatever you want it to. If you want to be romantically involved I would be happy with that, if you preferred to remain friends then I would be content with that."
Quinn nodded, taking a step forward and running her hand along the glossy table top. "You mean, you can't be with anyone else?"
Rachel shook her head. "It is physically impossible for me to be with another person. I don't respond to anyone else, like I do you. I have absolutely no interest other than mild curiosity with everyone else. It's been that way all my life."
"So, why did you join the football team if you prefer solitude?" Quinn asked, but she was now pretty confident of the reason.
Rachel tilted her chin up to look at the punk. "I was hoping to upstage Finn so that you would never be tempted by him. I know you identify as gay but sexuality can be fluid and I believe that you deserve the best, and he isn't it. I wasn't willing to give him any opportunities. Not that I'm saying I am the best person for you. Being with a vampire brings its own issues."
Quinn nodded and sauntered closer, until there was a small distance between them. "So, you're saying, you joined the Titans because you were jealous and trying to show off?"
Rachel swallowed. "I suppose that that would be a valid assessment of my actions."
"Hmm..." Quinn moved closer so that their hips pressed together and she felt Rachel tense, and something else swelling. She dipped her head so her lips were a hair's breadth from Rachel's. "Vampire up and take me out then."
Quinn moved back, regaining their distance rapidly. A smirk firmly on her lips.
Rachel started to smile. That was the Quinn she knew and loved, the teasing yet aggressive rebel. "Miss Fabray, would you do me the honour of escorting you on a date?"
"Pick me up on Friday at 6. Nothing dressy."
"Yes, m'lady."
Quinn grinned as Rachel gave a little bow, then turned to head for the door. She gasped as a breeze blew by her and suddenly Rachel appeared in front of her, holding the door open for her.
"You need to show me everything you can do at some point. See you tomorrow, Rach."
"Whatever you would like. Have a goodnight Quinn, drive safe."
Quinn left the house with a bright smile on her face and a warm feeling inside. She thought it strange how calm she was about discovering Rachel's true nature but, at the same time, it sort of made sense.
It also helped that Rachel had the sense of chivalry and etiquette that she found so enchanting in her old movies. Rachel didn't need to try hard, she simply held doors open without a second thought, or pulled chairs out or handed her her jacket. It was refreshing. It was sweet.
The fact that she also needed blood to survive was odd, but slightly sexy. The fact that she was a vampire added to the goth's image of being a badass as she did not really care much for other's opinions. One of the things Quinn had admired about her and that had drawn her in when they first became acquainted.
She wondered if at some point she could convince Rachel to feed from her, rather than having to hunt people.
-/-
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I still insist on writing read after people have read it and I don't understand why.