A/N: Final chapter, here we go! Finished just in time for the superheroes day of Faberry Week. Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 4

Quinn is hit with what she imagines is like the force of a speeding train. Her back slams into the wall of the warehouse, metal giving way to her body as she's pinned there. She'd be dead if her body was normal. But even so, it's hard to breathe, and she knows she's badly bruised.

She growls away the pain, focusing on her attacker. Another robot. While humanoid in shape, this one lacks the fake skin and hair of the Vocal Adrenaline robots to hide its true nature. It's nothing but sleek metal smoothly pieced together and gleaming artificial light where eyes should be. It keeps a limb pressed into her, holding her against the wall. The other is pulled back slightly, and Quinn recognizes the hum of an energy weapon charging.

She unleashes the power behind her eyes before it can act, temporarily turning the world a reddish pink. The force is enough to give her breathing room, and she swings a fist, smashing into the robot. It goes spinning off her, crashing into the bottom of the warehouse.

She gulps in a relieved breath. Then shouts, "Rachel!"

"Quinn! Here! In here!" Rachel's voice echoes back, and she's so close. But Quinn takes a moment to scan the warehouse, searching for Santana and Brittany…

…And feels her stomach bottom out at the sight below.

Her eyesight has adjusted enough to make out the shapes on the floor. It also certainly helps her figure out what those shapes are when she sees unnatural lights springing to life, marking the presence of hundreds of robots.

"Shit."

"Try fuck," Santana says as her and Brittany rise into the sky to hover beside her, no worse for the wear. "Those things pack a wallop."

"You two okay?" Quinn says.

"Just pissed off," Santana says.

"It's definitely a good thing I talked to Lord Tubbington about what to do in the event of a robot invasion," Brittany says sagely. Her hands are on her hips, and she calmly surveys the scene.

"Quinn, what's—Jesse stop!" Rachel's voice comes. The only thing keeping Quinn from rushing in there is the exasperation in Rachel's voice.

"Look Q, you get Berry out of here okay. We'll hold them off. Take her somewhere safe and then come back," Santana says.

Before Quinn can answer, the lights to the whole warehouse flicker on, and a shrill voice shrieks, "I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT IS AN ADVISABLE COURSE OF ACTION AND SUCH A COURSE OF ACTION IS NOT ADVISABLE I BELIEVE!"

"What. The. Fuck." Santana says disbelieving, and Quinn is inclined to agree with her reaction.

Standing in the middle of the warehouse, on top of a robot similar to the one that Jesse originally kidnapped Rachel in, is a young woman. She strikes a pose, one hand on her hip, the other clutching a large gun like object, lips pursed petulantly. Her dark hair flows dramatically behind her despite the lack of air circulating in the warehouse. She's maybe a couple of years older than them, but Quinn can't really determine for certain as her skin has a slight green tint and her eyes a faint purplish color. But the strangest thing of all—and what probably garnered Santana's reaction—is that she wears the familiar WMHS cheerleading uniform.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Santana says. A sneer plays across her lips. "And why the hell are you repeating yourself?"

"I am not repeating myself! I do no such repeating! But my name is Jojo! I shall tell you a story and you shall listen. You shall listen to my story as I tell it. Then, as my next course of action, I will destroy you."

"I think I remember you!" Brittany says. "You were a Cheerio when we started our freshman year!"

"Yes!" Jojo says, and she does a little fist pump. "I give you my sincerest thanks! But you shall still listen to my story!"

"Uh, no thanks. Can we just stick to the fighting part?" Quinn says. "I'd rather just go ahead and kick your ass, get Rachel, and get out of here."

"No! You shall listen or I will destroy that office and the loudmouth girl with my superpowered supersonic canon," Jojo says, pointing the rather large gun toward the office. "I do not enjoy your presence, but I will have you hear my story or the loudmouthed girl will be destroyed along with the office."

"Not buying it. St. James is still in there," Quinn says, inching forward.

"I do not care for him," Jojo says. "His locks are a distraction."

"Whoa, let's not get hasty!" Jesse calls out from the office.

Jojo ignores him and casts a dark look toward Quinn, a smirk stretching across her face. Quinn licks her lips nervously, furtively glancing toward the office as Jojo's finger begins to clench across the trigger.

"Alright fine," Quinn says, spitting the words out between her teeth. She's not going to risk it, and she's not going to charge in or use her laser vision when that bitch could still get a shot off before she hits her. She'll listen to whatever stupid story she has to for Rachel to stay safe. "Let's hear it."

"I was not always like this," Jojo says. "My appearance used to be quite different. In truth, I possessed skin that was pale, eyes of blue, and hair that was blonde. You see, I am different in appearance from what I once was. I was also, it is my vague understanding, lacking of intelligence. I currently possess great intelligence. Intelligence of such magnitude that you should tremble. Tremble! For my intelligence is currently great! But in that time that has since past, I ruled the William McKinley High School. I was Coach Sylvester's chosen one. The chosen one was me."

Quinn blinks in surprise, faint memories of the Cheerios captain from her freshman year flitting across her mind. She remembers, images and sounds fleeting like a stone skipped across water briefly leaves a ripple in its wake. Nothing particularly permanent, but something still there. And she is pretty sure that the captain then was called Jojo and that she was filthy rich from her father's software empire. What she was doing in Lima when her family had that kind of money, Quinn has no idea.

"Holy shit if she repeats one more thing I'm going to strangle a bitch," Santana mutters.

Brittany shushes her. "San, you know I like stories."

"I may not have been fully evil then, but I am now! I am the evilest supervillian in existence! There is no one more evil than I! But that was not always the case! No! Coach Sylvester lost all interest in me once you three appeared! And once you got your powers, I was left in the dust. Figuratively. Because Coach Sylvester does not care for dust, and I remember having to dust her trophies many times alongside others bearing the uniform. So one night, when she was late at school with you three, I snuck into her home and found the last vestiges of Chemical X! I found the last vestiges of Chemical X because of you three. I spent years building my robot army, and then my interests matched with the show choir of Vocal Adrenaline. You've done well so far, but now is you're your downfall! You're nothing but incompetent girls, and I am an evil genius! I built these robots with my evil genius, and you are incompetent!"

"Is that the best insult you got? Because if you want to throw those down, I'm more than willing to go," Santana says.

"You insult my insulting!"

"Damn right I do! You're a loser still wearing a cheerleading uniform out of high school. And you're green! Are you sure you wanna go because I could insult you in my sleep?"

"Quinn, go," Brittany whispers as Jojo begins to rail back at Santana. Quinn nods, slinking a little to the side in hopes that the self-proclaimed supervillian won't immediately notice her approach when she charges. As much hot air as Jojo seems to have, Santana should keep her occupied. She'll have to thank Santana for the distraction later.

She hovers, weighing the repercussions of a physical charge versus just using her laser vision. She settles on the physical charge—if something goes wrong, at least her body will be there to distract Jojo from firing on the office. She breathes deeply, knowing once she goes; there will be no more hesitating. And then, just as Jojo opens her mouth to retort again, Quinn charges.

She's colliding into Jojo before the villain knows what's happening, sending them from the top of robot to the ground. The sonic gun goes spinning out of her grip, and Quinn is flooded with relief that Rachel is out of immediate danger. Her relief last no longer than a heartbeat as Jojo manages to unleash a scream of rage as they hit the ground. "Attack!"

Around her, the robots hum into activity, and Quinn, on instinct, shoots upwards, leaving Jojo behind on the floor. Robots lunge into the space she just vacated, crashing into each other and on top of Jojo's body instead. Quinn winces at the sound, but doubts that's the last of the "supervillain." (A Coach Sylvester lesson: never assume an opponent has been dealt with unless you've personally dismembered or restrained them, and even then you just never know. Sometimes Quinn thinks Coach is insane and paranoid, but she's seen enough movies to know she can't let her guard down around villains.) She has no more time to dwell on Jojo's fate, however, as the warehouse has turned into a deathtrap. The buzz and hum of electricity and machines pervade the air, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as she sees the multitude of glowing eyes settle on her.

Protect Rachel—is the only thought she has.

It's the only thing that matters.

Santana and Brittany will be fine. And she will be fine as long as Rachel is.

She finds herself staring down the robots, daring them to approach the office, daring them to challenge her—before realizing exactly how worthless that is. Quinn knows she has a wicked glare, but she doubts a bunch of wires and electric impulses appreciate it. She settles for making her glare deadly instead, reddish pink coloring her vision and sizzling through the metal of the nearest robot. She loses herself in the fight as the robots come, a veritable mountain of them. She punches and kicks. Flies and charges. Her body is a weapon.

Her body is a shield.

For not one robot gets close to the office.

When the waves finally stop, Quinn is exhausted and bruised, but Rachel is safe.

She catches Brittany and Santana's eyes—they look just as exhausted and beat-up as she feels and at their collective nod, she swoops into the office, Rachel's name playing across her lips.

Words die in her mouth instead. The office is empty. A door is open on the other side. Quinn's hands clench into fists.

"Quinn… She can't be far," Brittany says from behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"The freak isn't out here," Santana calls. "The big robot is still here though."

Quinn deflates. It doesn't matter if that robot is there. The one Jesse piloted has to be somewhere too, and there could be any number of others. Failure—

"Stop that," Brittany says, immediately halting her thoughts. The hand on Quinn's shoulder squeezes tightly. "Jesse was still in here. You were awesome Quinn."

She breathes and then turns around to see Brittany's soft smile. She could have been better. She should have been better. But this just means she'll have to work harder. "Let's go!"

She moves past Brittany and catches Santana's nod. Without any more hesitating, she shoots off toward the window they first entered in and back into the day. She quickly climbs into the sky for a vantage point, feeling Santana and Brittany at her back. She pauses a few hundred feet in the air, scanning the land below. As the seconds tick by, her heart grows heavier, but she doesn't have to wait for long.

Right below them, a black SUV pulls out from the warehouse and onto the street, tires squealing tread marks in its wake. "Girls?"

"Oh yeah, I see it," Santana says, and Quinn can hear the smirk in her voice.

They take off, and the wind roars in Quinn's ears as they quickly close in on the black SUV. It turns onto a more populated highway, merging with traffic. It's definitely a Range Rover, and it's definitely Jesse's. Without slowing, Quinn points to each side of the SUV. Brittany and Santana zip slightly to the side and ahead, flying alongside the Range Rover. Quinn flies straight over its roof, and hovers just above, making sure Brittany and Santana are ready.

"Now!" Quinn shouts over the wind and highway traffic.

And the SUV begins to fly.

Assisted by Brittany and Santana of course.

Before Jesse can realize what's going on, Quinn lands forcefully on the hood of the SUV. She makes sure to hit with enough force to dent the hood and maybe even do some internal damage to the vehicle, Quinn looks up and stares into the vehicle. Jesse is frantically jerking the wheel back and forth to no effect, eyes wide and panicky. Rachel is nowhere to be seen.

Quinn punches through the windshield as Brittany and Santana raise the Range Rover up far enough into the sky to pull to a halt without endangering traffic below. She reaches forward and grabs the collar of Jesse's shirt.

"Where is she?" she hisses.

"Jojo took her! I swear! Look, Vocal Adrenaline has a deal with her company Mojo JJ, Inc in hopes of fielding a perfect, robotic show choir! But everything was her idea! Everything!" Jesse says, spurting out words as quickly as possible.

"Where is she?" Quinn says, bringing him within inches of her own face. She sparks the powerful energy hiding behind her gaze, knowing he'll be able to see traces of it swirling in her eyes.

"She took her! I swear it! She got in the robot I brought her here in and took off!"

"Which direction?"

"Toward downtown! I promise! She said—she said it—she'll make you guys pay! She's got some serious issues with you Fabray!"

Quinn sneers and releases him. Jesse slumps back into his seat and then sits up, straightening his shirt. She jumps off the hood, hovering in front of the SUV. "Your call girls!"

"Wait! No—don't let Santana—" Jesse begins with panic, but his words turn into screech as Brittany and Santana (well probably Santana) literally throw the Range Rover into the air.

"You guys going to catch that?" Quinn asks casually, eyes following the slowing ascent of Jesse and his SUV.

Santana purses her lips, hands on her hips. "Yeah, I figure. We're not the bad guys."

"Besides, I like him," Brittany says, and smiles as both Quinn and Santana give her confused looks. "He's funny!"

Santana scowls and races upwards, meeting the Range Rover and catching it with ease. Quinn watches with Brittany as she places Jesse's vehicle down none too lightly beside the highway. They float over in time to hear—"I'm not kicking your ass now because it will be so much more satisfying to see you cry when we beat you tomorrow!"

Quinn crosses her arms and smirks as Santana turns around.

"What?" Santana spits. "Don't give me that shit. You like glee too! And losing to us at Nationals will mean much more than just kicking his ass. Now let's go track down your girl."

Quinn nods, and takes off into the sky. She faintly hears Brittany giving Jesse a cordial farewell and smiles. Downtown Chicago gleams bright with promise in the distance, and, with a general direction to follow, it shouldn't take much to track down Jojo. Not when she's piloting a large robot. Not when Quinn can already make out sirens in the distance.

Why Jojo decided to flee downtown and what she planned, Quinn doesn't know. What she does know is that this is it. She's getting Rachel back.

She'll kick Jojo's ass and rescue Rachel. She'll apologize and beg forgiveness for that stupid fight they had.

And maybe she'll even ask Rachel if she can stay with her always. Her stomach flips at the thought. That is by far the scariest and hardest task left for her.

"What are you even doing? You could have just escaped without kidnapping me further, and I could have convinced them to let you go. I'll have you know that Quinn is coming for me. And you should know that she is very talented and very strong and very attractive—fast—very fast. I feel very comfortable putting my life in her hands—"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"I don't think I will. I demand answers!"

Jojo, already disheveled looking, seems close to pulling her hair out, and Rachel works to keep the smile off her face. It's good acting practice. "Ugh—fine!" Jojo says slamming her hands against the controls and sending an arm of the robot swinging into a police car.

Rachel doesn't have to work to keep the smile off her face now. Her heart drops, worried for the police officer inside. Maybe she shouldn't keep goading someone who is clearly unbalanced.

"I am orchestrating a show. It's a show orchestrated by me," Jojo says. "I want to put them in their place! I want the whole world to see me humiliate them! Then, and only then, will vengeance be mine! My vengeance and their humiliation, this is what I want!"

"Well you've certainly got people's attention," Rachel says. Her hands are tied behind her back, but Jojo didn't bother to restrain her against anything like Jesse did. She could attack Jojo…maybe. But not only does the villain have a height and weight advantage (and, okay, that's not entirely difficult given her size), she has one of her fancy weapons in her lap, and there's no way Rachel can get to it with her hands bound behind her back. So for now, she's waiting, biding her time. But she's not going to just depend on Quinn to be her hero. She can save herself if the opportunity arises thank you very much. Though Quinn makes for a very dashing heroine…

She is thankful that she can stand at least. She can see everything going on instead of just the sky like she could when she was sitting and restrained under Jesse's capture. So right now she can see they're in the middle of downtown Chicago, and Jojo is marching the giant robot through the streets, not caring about the fleeing citizens below.

They are quickly approaching the end of a block, and Rachel feels her breath hitch as police cars and officers close in at the intersection in an attempt to make a blockade. She's not worried about her safety, but rather theirs. Bullets bounce harmlessly off the robot's shell, including the glass windshield. She easily concludes that whatever glass it is, it's definitely not normal.

Her conclusion is only reinforced as a helicopter flies overhead, and a strafe of bullets is wasted in trying to penetrate the robot.

Jojo laughs. "I gave St. James a crash course in operating my creation. But he was an inferior pilot. I am capable and inferior is he. I can conquer Chicago, the world, the Powerpuff Girls in my creation. My creation conquers all!"

"You clearly lack rational thought. You might be able to handle a police force, but what about an army? And you certainly can't win versus Quinn, Brittany, and Santana."

Jojo looks over her shoulder at her, and Rachel feels a chill sweep down her spine. "Is that so loudmouth girl? Well, how about this?"

Jojo quickly presses a button, and adjust some controls. One of the robot's arms moves forward, its elbow joint locking to hold it straight. She hears the hum of energy and sees the police fleeing the intersection. Rachel knows they're not nearly fast enough and her breath catches in horror.

But a pink blur zips in front of the robot, swooping down from the sky, and colliding with the arm just in time to send it jerking off target. Energy explodes harmlessly against the empty asphalt of the road and concrete of the sidewalk. Rachel breathes in relief, just as her heart beats frantically in her chest at knowing Quinn is there.

This time, she can't keep the smile off her face as Quinn floats in front of the robot. She's in a short, form-fitting pink dress with a darker slash under her breasts. Boots climb up her calves, accentuating her figure all the more. She stares icily into the cockpit, gaze locked onto Jojo. But Rachel swears Quinn's eyes flicker to her for just a moment, her facade lightening with it, before resettling back into her glare.

Quinn is otherworldly. Not just because she can fly or claim super strength either. Quinn is beautiful and troubled, but she is also good. And Rachel loves her. She knows that. Because she thinks about Quinn. Because her gaze lingers on Quinn. Because she wants to connect with Quinn. Because she's happy just being near her, but her heart lodges somewhere in her throat anytime Quinn touches her.

And because wow…people don't want to do the things she's thinking about to anyone who is merely a friend.

"It's time to stop this madness. Release Rachel. Go home. And I won't tear you limb from limb," Quinn says resolutely.

And wow…okay. That sent all the right kinds of shivers down Rachel's spine (even if she doesn't believe in violence).

So focused on Quinn, she isn't even quite sure when Santana and Brittany arrived. But they're there now in matching dresses of green and blue respectively. Along with being aesthetically pleasing, Rachel finds that the uniforms add a certain… legitimacy to their front. They really look like a team of superheroes now.

"I still claim the advantage Quinn," Jojo says spitting Quinn's name. "The advantage is mine. I have the loudmouth girl. I have a robot designed with my genius. My genius, which is very brilliant! And you are but flesh that can bruise and bleed. Does my robot bruise and bleed? That may be a difficult question for you to answer so I will tell you that no, my robot does not bruise and bleed. Humans do bruise and bleed even when they have superpowers!"

Brittany says something inaudible, and Santana breaks into a full-blown laugh, while a smile quirks across Quinn's lips.

"What!" Jojo sputters, enraged. "What are you laughing at?"

The robot goes lurching forward, nearly sending Rachel tumbling off balance without the benefit of grabbing anything to stabilize herself. One of the arms swats forward, but Quinn, Brittany, and Santana easily dodge, and resettle in front of the robot. Rachel can see the police behind them, cheering them on. She looks around their surroundings as much as she can from inside the cockpit, and smiles as she sees citizens standing in the windows of buildings, encouraging her friends.

"Really, is that all you got?" Santana smirks.

"No, it is not all that I got! In fact, I would like to thank you for reminding me exactly what I can do in my creation!" Jojo says, fiddling with the controls.

Quinn quickly sends Santana a glare, but then Rachel is distracted by a new humming noise in cockpit.

And blasts of energy blaze forward, originating from somewhere around the shoulders of the robot. Quinn, Brittany, and Santana scatter, and suddenly it becomes much harder to keep up with anything.

Jojo is much better at operating this thing than Jesse was. Now that the villain is not reacting with blind anger, the robot moves impossibly fast, bounding and jumping, twisting and turning. It doesn't take long before Rachel is tossed off her feet. On the floor, stunned, with the wind knocked out of her, she tries to make sense of the world again. Slowly, she recovers. It doesn't help that the robot jerks and rocks continuously as the fight wages on. It's hard to get back up as the movement continues, much like a thrill ride at a theme park—but with much more at stake—and she still can't use her hands to help.

Pink, green, and blue keep flashing overhead, as Rachel tries to understand her friends' tactics—well hopefully, after all this, Quinn won't be classified as merely a friend. After all, Rachel can really appreciate the drama of getting together with Quinn after this harrowing experience—but this isn't the time to fantasize, Rachel thinks, scolding herself. Santana and Brittany stay farther back, harassing Jojo and the robot with quick charges, but Quinn keeps approaching the cockpit. She gets close enough, hovering just outside that Rachel can make out the determination in her eyes before she once again has to dart away in a dodge.

Quinn darts inside the swinging arms and energy blasts again, and this time, their eyes meet. Rachel's chest tightens as Quinn nods at her, her eyes soft and betraying all the manner of emotion. Quinn reaches out, running a hand over the cockpit glass, toward the edge where it seamlessly meets the metal panels of the robot's body. For a second, Rachel wants to reach forward too—she really appreciates the drama of trying to touch the one she loves only to be kept separated by a barrier—but then she registers what Quinn is trying to do.

Brittany and Santana are trying to keep Jojo distracted long enough for Quinn to figure out a way to break into the cockpit. With a thrill, she realizes she can help as Quinn levels punch and then a lasered glare into the window to no avail. Quinn is then forced to dodge away as twin energy blasts explode together in the space she just vacated.

Rachel saw Jesse open up cockpit when they first arrived at Jojo's proclaimed Mojo JJ, Inc headquarters. (She was not very impressed with the headquarters being in a derelict warehouse next to the canal, but she supposes that's what you have to do when running what is probably an illegal operation. Besides, the products speak for themselves. Rachel's never seen anything like Jojo's robots so there is some truth in the claims to genius.) It's nothing more than a simple lever, parallel to Jojo's seat, that releases the cockpit window from the metal body. The problem is… She has to raise her arms to get to it. With her arms tied behind her back, it makes her task much more difficult. Unfortunately, she's not one of those people who can dislocate her shoulders at will (and secretly being able to do that would kind of gross her out). She'll just have to get creative.

She struggles to her feet as the robot moves, awkwardly balancing herself using her body and shoulder against one of the side panels. She keeps against the panel as she moves forward, closing the distance to the lever, and hoping Jojo stays distracted enough with the battle until Rachel can get the cockpit open.

As she readies herself to attempt to pull the lever, she sees Quinn draw up at her bulleting approach, no doubt noticing her actions. Quinn then darts away, her pink form streaking around the robot, but staying near, no doubt waiting for Rachel to do something. Thankfully, the lever is nothing more than a simple pull-down mechanism.

… And it's a good thing she's fractionally as good of a dancer as she is vocalist and has recently taken up yoga.

She balances on her left leg, hoping the robot won't pitch violently and send her tumbling off balance. She wonders if she's imagining Quinn's eyes on her, ready and waiting to charge in as soon as the cockpit is open. Rachel raises her right leg, higher and higher, trying to go as quickly as possible, but also trying to maintain stability. So much can go wrong—a sudden movement, Jojo noticing, anything really. But then her leg is above the lever, and her foot hooks over the top. She pulls down with her foot, and several things happen at once.

There's a hiss as the cockpit glass disengages from the metal body.

Jojo turns to her, screeching something incomprehensible.

And Rachel falls, heart leaping into her throat as her body instinctually panics, realizing she can't brace itself with her arms.

She grunts as she slams into the floor of the cockpit, hitting Jojo's pilot chair on the way down, but gets no time to recover as hands aggressively latch under her armpits and haul her upright. She feels cool metal pressing against her temple and, with a start, realizes that the metal more than likely belongs to the gun that had previously been sitting in Jojo's lap. She swallows, soundly aware of the blood coursing through her veins and the pounding in her head.

There's a grating screech of metal being torn away, and Rachel looks up to see Quinn grip the cockpit windshield and yank it completely off. She tosses it away, leaving it to clatter uselessly to the road, teeth bared in a snarl. "Let her go."

"And you and your friends indicate that I am insane. You are clearly insane, and I am clearly sane. I will not let go of the loudmouth girl, and you will not attack me—"

A thud of impact, and her world tumbles forward. Jojo shrieks and scrambles as her grip loosens, but it's too late as the robot pitches forward, off-balance. Asphalt careens toward her, ready to crush her body on impact and Rachel forgets to breathe. Everything seems slow. She knows it's anything but.

Her feet lose their purchase.

A zip of lasers zooms over her shoulder.

Jojo wails.

The asphalt, cracked and broken, looms in a dark expanse.

Wind rushes through her hair

Then she's warm and secure.

"I got you. I got you. I got you," a voice, soft and husky, breathes into her ear, drowning out all sound of the giant robot crashing into the ground.

And she's flying, arms supporting her under her shoulders and knees and pressed tightly against a lithe body. She looks up into Quinn's eyes and throws her arms around her neck.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says, even as her grip tightens, "I'm so sorry—"

"Quinn—"

"I'm sorry about my part in our fight. I'm sorry about taking so long to get to you. I'm sorry you got hurt. I'm so sorry—"

"Quinn!" Rachel interjects more forcefully. Quinn's mouth promptly shuts, but her gaze falls away. "I'm fine. Thank you for saving me, and—and—I'm sorry too. About our fight. But that's all you have to be sorry for. Quinn, you… you saved me. You were worried about me."

"Of course I was worried about you!" Quinn nearly sputters. Then she draws a breath, her voice nearly breaking over her next words. "Rachel, you are so important to me. I'll always do everything I can to help protect you."

Quinn's eyes are dark and sincere, and, in this moment, Rachel's never been so sure of anything as she is in her love for Quinn Fabray.

It's amazing how far they've come.

"I thought I outfitted myself fairly well given my lack of superpowers today," Rachel says.

"You did," Quinn says. "You were amazing getting the cockpit open."

"But, I'm not entirely opposed to keeping you around. You would be very good at warding off stalkers once I become famous."

"Rachel, can I… Can I—"

"Q!" Santana's voice interjects loudly, and Rachel startles. She didn't necessarily forget about Brittany and Santana—they were no doubt the source that toppled the robot over—but Quinn so consumes her attention. "Unless you want to give everyone a show, I suggest you fly somewhere private!"

Quinn colors, and Rachel finally notices the world around them. Police are scrambling through the damaged block, securing the area. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people peer from the buildings around them and the street below. There's a buzz of a helicopter overhead, white news vans are parked amidst the police cars. And she hovers above them all (well except for the helicopter) in Quinn's grasp.

"Perhaps we should vacate—" Rachel begins.

"Let me know if you want me to let you down at any time," Quinn says, and then they take off.

Quinn maintains a gentle speed, and despite the ground, so far below, Rachel feels safe. She burrows impossibly closer, soaking in Quinn. They climb higher into the sky, and soon they are level with only one building. Rachel giggles and waves at the gaping tourists on the observation deck as they pass by.

Quinn lands on top of the Willis Tower. She gently places Rachel's feet down, but keeps her arms secured around her. She is grateful for the support. They're so high, and there's nothing to stop her from tumbling off. Granted, she's absolutely positive Quinn would catch her in the event such a thing happened, but it doesn't stop the fluttering in her stomach…

Which only picks up as Quinn stares at her, her features, normally so composed, soft and emotive and impassioned.

"It's funny, despite these powers, I've been such a coward for so long," Quinn says, bringing a hand to gently cup Rachel's cheek.

And Rachel can't stop herself from leaning into it. "You're anything but a coward, Quinn. I've been…slow to recognize my true feelings. Needless to say, I'm exceeding glad we'll both be in New York this—"

And then Quinn is kissing her, lips sliding together effortlessly. It's warm and soft, and everything she ever wanted. She's sure her heart is going to burst in her chest, and she's more than okay with it. She shivers even though she's warm everywhere. She's never had a kiss quite like this. She melts. And when Quinn nips at her bottom lip, Rachel tightens her grip, and she's the one to slip her tongue into the kiss first. Quinn sort of sighs, giving way to her, and Rachel is certain she'll be happy kissing Quinn Fabray the rest of her life.

She pulls back—eventually, reluctantly—and Quinn whispers, "Stay with me."

Rachel looks at her—the wind playing with her hair, the sun reflecting in her eyes, and the promise of something remarkable in the upwards turn of her lips—and the only possible answer that Rachel can give is always.

…But that might be a little much for right after their first kiss, even if she's sure of it, so she says "yes" instead.

Quinn smiles, and it's beautiful.

"Thank you for coming for me," Rachel says. "I admit, it was harrowing at times, but I always thought you would come after me so thank you for proving me right."

"You don't have to thank me for that," Quinn says. "Though, I imagine Coach Sylvester will find something lackluster about my performance so I do appreciate hearing it."

"She works you three much too hard," Rachel says disapprovingly.

"It's for the best. We're definitely ready for New York. I'm not sure if New York is ready for you though."

"New York won't know what hit it. But first we need to get through Nationals—and, oh my, Nationals is tomorrow! Quinn!"

"Relax," Quinn says, "It's tomorrow. We have plenty of time till then."

Quinn's right, she realizes, her panic subsiding as quick as it came. She casts a glance at Quinn, smiling coyly. "I think we can stay occupied until then."

"Yeah?" Quinn says breathily.

"Yes," Rachel leans up to say in Quinn's ear. Then she falls back onto her heels and gives her a serious look. "Though I do have to spend some time practicing, and tonight I have to follow my pre-performance routine!"

Quinn laughs, "I think we can work that in."

Will's cell phone rings, startling him from his daze—nearly a nap—at the front of the bus. He scrambles for it.

"H-Hello?" his voice rasps.

"William! What did I tell you?" comes a familiar voice.

"Sue?" he says askance.

"What? Have you finally put in so much hair gel that it's caused you early onset dementia?"

Yeah, it's definitely Sue. "Get to the point, Sue."

"I was just calling to inform you that my girls have successfully rescued the Berry girl so it appears your club might have it's two percent chance of winning back."

"Oh wow! That's great!" Will exclaims. He turns around, looking at his students messing around in the back of the bus. "Hey guys! Quinn, Brittany, and Santana rescued Rachel!"

"We already know Mr. Schuester," Kurt says dryly, holding up his phone. "It's all over the news!"

"Well great! Sue, you were right about them," he says back into the phone.

"Of course I was right!"

"Thanks for calling and telling me," Will says sincerely.

"Now I need you to say that catchphrase I taught you. Go on, you remember it."

Will sighs, but then smiles, happy. "So once again, the day is saved, thanks to... the Powerpuff Girls!"

End.

A/N: That's it guys. Thanks so much for reading if you made it all the way through! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

As always, a huge thanks to thoughtsinorange for letting me harass her constantly in regards to this fic.