A/N: So I said I wouldn't start a new multi-chapter. Obviously, I lied. But I just couldn't say no to this story, and I hope you guys enjoy it. Pokémon and Glee may seem like an odd combination, but hopefully it'll be one that works well. If you'd like to leave me a quick review to let me know if it is, that would be amazing.

Very few things came as second nature to Quinn Fabray – particularly not the activities that her parents longed for her to thrive at. The hobbies Mr and Mrs Fabray had given their seal of approval were far from appealing to sixteen-year-old girl. Cooking, they said, would impress the young men of Lima and have them falling over each other in a desperate bid for her hand – they were half right: the young men of Lima were falling over each other…in gales of laughter, as they watched smoke billow out of every window and door in the Fabray house and cast their eyes over the charred Charmander Chilli Chews that the then fourteen-year-old had flung out onto the lawn in disgust. Her mother had just stopped programming the recipes into her PokéGear after that.

Their next suggestion was music, the only one that Quinn didn't struggle to find an interest in. Down from the attic came an old, exquisitely carved case containing her long dead grandmother's now antique PokéFlute. Music was something that the teenager found she could lose herself in, and her parents were only too pleased to have her lost. For a month, it was perfect - for a month, Quinn painstakingly taught herself everything there was to know of the small wooden instrument. In the space of two weeks, she could slur her way through three octaves - backwards, if you asked nicely - and was already well on her way to perfecting the art of flutter tonguing. If the Fabrays were pleased for their daughter to have a nice, respectable hobby then they were nothing short of ecstatic when they found it could be put to use and shown off to the entire community.

"A snorlax outside the town hall!" Russell had cried, with far more gusto than the situation warranted, "Did you hear that Judy? A snorlax!"

And so Quinn was marched out, PokéFlute in hand, to face the sleeping pokémon. As it turned out, Snorlax didn't like the pop-punk melodies of Luxrays Ate My Baby: instead of moving from his spot as expected, he instead slumped back, lulling his head onto the pillow he had made of the town hall, which now crumbled and cracked under his pressure. When Quinn was marched back, it was much less glorious.

In a final attempt to find themselves a normal daughter, her parents forced her to take up swimming - even trading away her father's prized Electabuzz in exchange for a hulking, foreboding Tentacruel. Quinn didn't like Tentacruel. The steely gaze he always cast in her direction suggested that he wasn't her biggest fan either. Eventually, upon returning home in a startling combination of frazzled and bedraggled in appearance, even Russell and Judy Fabray -masters of ignorance- couldn't deny that this pokémon had taken an unmistakeable dislike to the young blonde girl they called a daughter. As Michael made his way to the Global Trade Centre in Goldenrod, he didn't think he could blame him.

Quinn had always been a difficult child. Well, Quinn had always been told she was a difficult child. The truth was, Quinn had difficult parents. They expected too much from her - they wanted her to be good at the things that they were, the things had made their own parents practically quake with pride. So far, the only thing Quinn had found an aptitude for (besides the PokéFlute that was promptly taken from her after the Snorlax incident) was pokémon training. Her pokémon grew more experienced by the second, picking up six new moves in the time it took her classmates' to master one.

Luxray, her unofficial favourite, was the one that her teacher liked to keep a close watch on. Every day that she walked into the academy in Violet City, jumping off her bike and chaining it to a nearby pole (her parents refused to pay for a foldaway bike) Mr Schuester's eyes seemed to light up in wonder. "Must be near level 56 now, eh, Quinn?" he would say, grinning as he ruffled the patch of hair on the electric-type's chest. The pupil would nod, although she didn't really care for levels - she didn't need a number to tell her her pokémon was strong, superior to all others she had met. He was her best friend - of course she knew that.

Today was no different, Mr Schue singing the praises of the pokémon he gazed at longingly. Quinn could tell he thought Luxray was wasted on her. She could tell that he thought, along with his peers, that she pushed him too hard and would amount to nothing more than a pokémon bullying Rocket grunt. They didn't see Luxray play tig with her all throughout the house while they anxiously eyed the door to see if Russell and Judy were home. They didn't see him nuzzle her hand under the table at school as her face fell when her classmates left her out - again. They didn't see the special bond that she shared with her pokémon. But she didn't mind that. She didn't need them, any of them - this time next year she would be the pokémon league champion and send all of these people away with fits of tears and wounded pokémon.

Judy Fabray didn't like this ambition - she said that a desire to crush people's dreams was far from ladylike. Quinn laughed coldly at the hypocrisy. Russell stated simply, when his wife told him of their daughter's plans, that as long as she no longer lived at home he didn't really care. Well, that was fine she thought sullenly, slouching down in her window seat at school. It wasn't like she needed them anyway. She didn't need people - she needed pokémon.

The teacher had been droning for ten minutes when chocolate brown eyes darted towards her from the front of class, and Quinn's own rose to meet them for the briefest of seconds. Then the other girl moved her gaze and attention back towards the teacher, leaving the blonde to ponder idly why one of the most popular girls in school was catching her eye in class. Rachel, she remembered her name as. Stupid perfect Rachel, who did everything right and whose parents were proud of her and supported her every endeavour. Perfect Rachel who got the attention of half of the boys in class - the ones her mother had told her she could have, once upon a time. Quinn sighed quietly to herself, now redirecting her glare from the back of the other girl's head to the world outside her window. From here, she could see the tower, a hulking mass that cast a shadow that almost reached the very seat she sat in. A few ghastleys floated their way around the building, weaving an intricate dance amongst the pillars and beams and the teenager watched with interest. 'That,' she thought to herself sullenly, 'is where I can learn about pokémon. Not here.'

A wet nose against her palm brought her back to reality, and she glanced beneath the desk to find her Luxray gazing up at her knowingly. Automatically, she flattened her palm against his head, running her hands through the course dark hair that sprouted all over his body. He gave a slight whine of contentment, and she shushed him as quietly as she could while looking up to see if Mr Schuester had heard - the man carried on unperturbed, rambling on about Weedles and Caterpies and the properties of an antidote. Did he think they were five?

She found her attention flickering back to Rachel periodically, whom she was surprised to find was taking notes now that the teacher had moved onto the more complex parts of the day's lesson. Really, there was something she didn't know? All the class did was express enthusiasm for her vast knowledge. Quite frankly, it got on Quinn's nerves. Other people knew things too - just not everyone felt the need to voice absolutely every "interesting" fact they had learned, and instead simply stored it for future use. Other people like Quinn.

The blonde now glanced at the pen in her own hand, one had that had not graced the notebook in front of her with any words. She set it down on top of the lined paper, deciding that, having zoned out of more than half of the lesson, it really wasn't worth starting to listen now. Instead, she devoted the remainder of her time to stroking the pokémon settled comfortably between her knees.

After what felt like an eternity for Quinn, the lecture was over and she was free to go outside and breathe some fresh air. She was still debating internally whether or not to come back after break, when she knew there would be a group of trainers by the water in New Bark Town raring for a battle at this time. Just as she was about to grab her bags and use the interval as a cover for her leaving, she heard a voice above her and she looked up to meet the same eyes as she had earlier.

"I, um, made a copy of some notes for you. Just in case you wanted to learn more about it – there are footnotes of additional information that I thought you might," the girl's flurry of words stopped, as though she had just noticed that Quinn was glaring openly at her, and she finished weakly, "…find interesting."

As the words the other girl said registered, Quinn's eyes furrowed into a frown that she directed first at the notecards and then to Rachel. What did this girl think she was, some charity case? She tried not to give a visible reaction to her classmate, but the way she stood abruptly blatantly betrayed her annoyance. Picking up the notes from her desk, she thrust them back into Rachel's chest and allowed them to flutter to the floor as she released them. "I don't need your help." Her lips almost betrayed her with a smile as she saw Rachel's mouth drop open in shock at her unabashed rudeness. She hiked her rucksack higher onto her shoulder and let a defiant hand settle on her hip. "Okay?"

After a few brief seconds to evaluate the girl opposite her Quinn turned to walk both away from her and away from the classroom. As she did so, the school bell rang, signalling the end of the five minute break and the teacher requested that they all take their seats.

"Great." Quinn grumbled, casting a dark look at Rachel while she slumped back into her seat, "Just fucking great." It looked like she would be saying for the after-break lessons after all.

The trainer watched with a sour expression as the other girl offered a diluted smile followed by a sheepish, "Sorry." For a brief second, she almost a small sliver of remorse for snapping so harshly at a girl who had only tried to do something nice for her - and then the second was over, and her steely demeanour was swiftly back in place.

"Just keep them, yes? It's no problem," the brunette continued to ramble, despite Quinn's obvious annoyance at her presence and the notes she had tried to pass on. Rachel still left the papers on her desk and insisted again -irritatingly- that she kept them. The blonde grumbled a reluctant agreement and scooped the papers, unread, into her bag. "You can thank me later!" was called back in a sing-song voice as the perfect student found her seat at the front of the class.

Quinn's eyes didn't find the other girl again until a figure at her desk caught her eye, and Rachel's too she imagined. She watched with mild interest as Rachel's cheeks pinked, in an oddly cute fashion, as Finn Hudson left a note on her desk; she then forced her eyes away. The very last thing she needed was this girl in her life, messing things up. She didn't care if Finn was professing his love for Rachel Berry by note in class – although she doubted he could even spell 'love'. Still, she didn't care. She didn't. The whole "liking girls" thing was something she was trying to purge her system of, before her parents managed to get their hands on the information. Inviting a girl to be close to her was not working it out of her system. Still, she couldn't help but feel -just the teensiest, tiniest bit- that this wasn't something she could cure. Maybe she just had to accept life as a...lesbian. God, she hated that word. No, she wouldn't do it. No matter how many irresistibly cute girls passed lecture notes her way, she would not succumb to this...this sin. But, there was no harm in looking - was there?

And so look she did, for the remainder of the lesson, the teacher's imparted wisdom falling upon deaf ears. Rachel, she deducted (purely for analytical reasons), was reasonably attractive. A good few inches shy of herself, hair a gorgeous chestnut brown to combat her own blonde locks, eyes a warm shade of brown rather than her own steely gaze of hazel - everything about her just exuded warmth and comfort, a sharp contrast to the cool exterior that Quinn showed the world. As the class ended, Quinn quickly averted her eyes from the unknowing subject of her gaze; she leaned back, cracking her knuckles, and made a point of showing no interest in anyone in the classroom - particularly not a certain brunette suck-up.

"I know we don't know each other very well," the other girl started and Quinn snorted derisively.

"And don't you think there's a reason for that?" the blonde asked and again, she stood to find said brunette suck-up looking at her and again offering kind words.

"We don't know each other," Rachel continued, as though Quinn hadn't spoken, but the blonde could see that her open hostility had shaken a girl who was used to only kindness from the world. Maybe, Quinn thought, I'm the harsh reality check that she needs. "But, I think it would be nice if we did get to know each other. Don't you?"

Silently, Quinn approved. Silently, she liked that Rachel was willing to try so hard to befriend her. Outwardly, she showed nothing but indifference and began grabbing her things and shoving them into her bag to actually get to leave for once. "Not really, no."

"Come on, what harm could it do? I know for a fact you have no other friends." Almost instantly, Rachel's hand clapped across her mouth – she hadn't meant to say that. Quinn hoped she didn't notice the brief flash of hurt that had flittered across her face. She didn't care what Rachel said, she didn't care that she had no friends – she just didn't care, goddamnit. "I'm sorry, Quinn, I didn't-"

"Don't say you didn't mean it," Quinn interrupted snappily, "we both know damn well you did." She glowered at her companion and then shook her head. "It's true anyway, isn't it?" the blonde continued with a flippant shrug – if Rachel noticed the hurt in her tone she knew better than to mention it. "So, is that all you wanted to tell me? That no one likes me? Got that memo, thanks."

"I like you." The words were open, honest as were the muddy depths of her fellow pupil's eyes when she glanced up to meet them.

"You don't even know me," Quinn argued, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she did so.

"But I think we've covered that I'd like to, don't you?" Rachel said, her voice bordering on exasperation – the first emotion other than kindness that Quinn had heard from her today. "Please, Quinn."

"Why does it mean so much to you?" Quinn questioned, looking past Rachel to the door that she is so desperate to leave through. She didn't miss the shifty, guilt-stricken look that appeared fleetingly on the other girl's features when she turned her attention back.

"I think there's more to you than other people give you credit for, Quinn. They just need to scratch the surface." Something about the words touched Quinn – not so much that she wants to befriend Rachel, but enough to leave her more open to the idea. When she next looked to the other girl, a thoughtful look had spread across her features.

"Tell you what," she said, gesturing for Rachel to follow her from the classroom, "we'll have a battle. Right now." She nodded, deciding for herself that this was the best course of action. "If I win," 'Which I will,' she added in her head, "then you will back the hell off and leave me alone. And if you win, I'll go on a little...friend date or whatever with you. Agreed?" Then, without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Good."

"Wait, what? A battle? Quinn, do you really think that's the best course of action? Surely there is some other, non-violent, way we could resolve this issue?"

"No. There isn't," Quinn answered simply. "You battle me, or you don't. Your choice."

"I still think-"

"I don't care what you think."

"But, but, a battle-"

"Yes, a battle," Quinn shot back almost mockingly, "That is what we breed pokémon for, right?" The question was blatantly rhetorical - of course that was what pokémon were bred for. As she listened to the rest of what Rachel had to say, the blonde found that her hand strayed instinctively to the cool metal of the balls strapped to her waist, itching to throw one to the centre of the miniature stadium they now stood at the entrance of.

"I don't know…" Rachel said, biting her lip, "maybe we could just talk it out over tea?"

"'Talk it out over tea?' Are you eighty?" Quinn demanded, annoyed that Rachel seemed so against her idea.

"Don't you think your pokémon get tired fighting all the time?" Rachel accused, "They need to rest, Quinn!"

Her annoyance then escalated to fully-blown anger, her eyebrows narrowing at the suggestion that she didn't treat her pokémon fairly. Her fists clenched, her jaw set rigidly and she had to remind herself that it was pokémon that were supposed to fight - it didn't make the over-whelming urge to hurt the perfect pupil in front of her any less. She could, however, inflict a great deal of damage to her pokémon with ease.

Quinn knew that other people hailed Rachel as the best trainer in the class - Quinn also knew that they were wrong. When it came to raising her pokémon, moulding them into the perfect warriors and companions, she was superior. There was no doubt in her mind, even though there was a lot in everyone else's when it came to Quinn Fabray. She didn't understand why everyone looked down on her so much, putting the dampener on her dreams and aspirations - what had she done in the past to make people believe she was incapable? That she was the bad seed of the academy, besmirching its name? Internally, she found the irritating voice of wisdom telling her that Rachel hadn't said such a thing yet.

"Well, I didn't mean just your pokémon of course!" the brunette tried to backtrack, "Everyone's pokémon should rest! In fact, my pokémon should rest too! I bet they're famished, sitting in the pokéball while I'm busy all day exercising my grey matter! Don't you think? And anyway, maybe our pokémon would like to be friends!"

Sick of listening to the other girl try to dig herself out of the hole she had just dug for herself, Quinn found her infuriation with her grew even further. "A battle. Now." The words came out almost as a snarl, followed by a growl of, "Or you can just go, and leave me alone - without trying." She sneered at the shorter girl. "How..." the teen made a show of searching for the right word, finally saying, with as much venom as she could muster, "pathetic."

Her eyes strayed over the other girl as she waited to see if Rachel would take the bait. Despite herself, she found that she quietly approved of what she saw. A lean, not quite svelte figure and big puppy dog eyes that were sure to melt even the coldest of hearts - well, Quinn would be damned before it thawed her's.

"Fine," Rachel retorted, pulling herself up to her full height -which wasn't particularly high-, "fine. I'll show you how a real trainer battles." She unhooks a ball from her belt and throws it to the middle of the arena, "Go, Jolteon!" Despite the authority in her voice, she didn't look particularly at ease with the situation.

Watching Rachel Berry's obvious discomfort, Quinn allowed a small smirk to flit across her face before turning to the Luxray standing at her side. She knelt to her pokemon, running a hand across its head - a gesture he knew to be loving. "Okay, Luxray, you can do this. Take that stupid little furball out." She then stood, watching her pokémon saunter to its starter line and settle its haunches. A glance at her opponent and a deep breath later, and Quinn was ready to call her first command.

"Luxray, thunderfang!"

The teenager looked on in awe as Luxray did nothing of the sort. "Thunderfang!" she repeated, her voice even sharper."Thunderfang!" Nothing, not even a glance of recognition from the pokémon in the arena. From her place on the other side, Quinn thought she could see her opponent stifle a laugh.

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed - did pokémon forget their moves often? The trainer couldn't recall, ironically, but she was fairly certain that amnesia wasn't common in Luxrays and particularly not instantaneously. She sighed noticably, before crying out the name of another move to the stoic pokémon: "Crunch!" The canine made no indication that he had heard. 'Is he deaf?' Quinn thought to herself angrily, repeating herself in an even louder voice, "Crunch!" There was an almost imperceptible twitch of a furry black ear.

A wave of realisation washed over the young trainer as she looked into the deep brown eyes of her best friend, who had now turned his head towards her. 'You want me to give her a chance, don't you boy?' Her expression changed slowly from enraged to thoughtful - she wasn't sure whether to feel betrayed by the creature's actions or touched. While his refusal to fight was irksome, Quinn took it as further proof to what no one else seemed to believe: she and her pokémon had a bond. He was trying to do the best for her, as she tried to do the best for him. She gave a slight nod, one that Luxray recognised as an agreement and he quickly stood. Win or lose, Quinn would talk to her challenger - maybe even befriend her. She knew that, and he knew that. The teenager trusted her pokémon and his judgement more than she trusted herself.

"We don't have to fight if you don't want to," Quinn offered, after a few moments of watching her pokémon from the sidelines. These were the first friendly words she had directed to Rachel Berry. She felt almost like she should be embarrassed by Luxray's unwillingness to fight, particularly after the accusation that her classmate had just made, but she couldn't bring herself to be. He was her pokémon, and she was proud of all of his actions regardless of whether or not she had asked for them. Her lips quirked into the slightest smile and she called across, "It looks like you were right. Maybe my pokémon want to be friends with yours."

Rachel's mouth was set. "But you won't talk to me if I don't."

"An hour. Pick me up tonight, and you have an hour."

Rachel's face split into a wide grin. "Okay."

She quickly programmed her address and number into the other girl's PokéGear, an odd feeling of butterflies overtaking her as she does so. Shaking them off Quinn began to walk away, but paused just at the entrance to the stadium. "Don't bring anyone else."

"I wouldn't dream of it," the brunette admitted, far too quietly for Quinn to hear.