A/N: Prompt from some random picture someone posted on Twitter and it's taken me months to post this first part. This is a super ultra mega rough draft, considering I haven't really written anything substantial in six months, so apologies in advance for the awfulness.

She was late. She was so horribly late. This is what happens when you stop to have breakfast with your parents, who also happen to be recent divorcees. She flew down the street on her way to her next job, not caring if she ran into anyone along the way – they'd live. The little yellow post-it in her pocket was crumpled up into a ball, so she flattened it out to look at her job's location.

Her targets were supposed to be on the corner of Fifth and Horner at exactly 11:15am. It was 11:07 and she was about another ten minutes away. Weaving in and out of the crowd was something she had become accustomed to with her line of work, but when she was late like this, she wished she could part this crowd like the Red Sea.

Completely out of breath, she made it to her destination, but there was no one matching the targets' description on the sidewalk. She waited around for another ten minutes just in case they were running late, but her arrival times were never wrong. She swore under her breath; this was the third time she had been late that month and she knew her bosses were going to crack down on her this time. Right as she turned around to get ready for her next job, she was lifted up above the city by what felt like invisible hands. She was let down gently on the roof of one of the buildings and she saw her boss and two other people in front of her and she knew she was in trouble.

The tallest of the three stepped forward, wearing sunglasses and a blue track suit, arms crossed over her chest. She tilted the glasses down the bridge of her nose, so her ice cold glare could be seen clearly.

"Q," the woman drawled, "You know why you're here." There wasn't much anger in her voice, just cutting disappointment like her birthday had been forgotten. Including the height of her wings, the older stood over a foot taller than everyone else. She turned to the two other girls behind her. "Ladies, this is what shame looks like. Don't let it happen to you." Turning back towards the blonde in front of her, she let out a deep sigh. "This is the third time this month, Q. You know I said it was your last chance, which is really disheartening, because you used to be so good at your job; you never missed. You were my go-to girl when all of these other bozos screwed up. I even gave you your nickname, Q-pid."

The shorter blonde looked up at her boss with pleading hazel eyes. "I know, Ms. Sylvester. I'm really sorry. I got caught up at breakfast with my parents and I lost track of time. I ran here as fast as I could. Please give me one more chance." She wasn't above getting on her knees and begging, but before she could, her boss looked behind her at the two other girls, who hadn't said a word, and then back at the blonde.

"Here's what I'll do for you. You get one more chance. You're taking these two boneheads with you to make sure you get the job done and if you don't, you're done this time. Got it?"

Letting out a relieved breath, the girl nodded enthusiastically and resisted the urge to hug her boss. The last time that happened, both of them had to take disinfectant showers. "Thank you. I won't let you down, Ms. Sylvester."

Ms. Sylvester gave the girl a smirk and pointed a finger into the younger girl's sternum. "Make sure you don't." As she started to walk away, she turned back once more and pointed to the smaller set of wings on the girl's shoulders. "Oh, and Quinn? You've got wings; why don't you try using them? You'd make it to your jobs much faster and efficiently."

Quinn shrugged, "I like walking." And that was that. She had one more chance – again. She looked over at the other girls. Their names were Santana and Brittany; they had only been Love Makers - that's what they were called - for a few months and she knew them by reputation alone. Word on the street was they were up-and-comers that Sue Sylvester had hired to replace a couple of people, Mike and Tina, who had gotten fired a few weeks before. They broke the cardinal rule of the Love Makers: they had fallen in love with each other.

The first two rules in the Love Makers handbook were: 1.) Love Makers are not to fall in love with other Love Makers, and 2.) Love Makers are not to fall in love with their targets. Whoever founded their organization said that they were in the business of love. They were supposed to help others find love without worrying about their own. That was the rule; that was what they agreed to when joining. Most of the cupids - those in the field who actioned the distribution of love - had either been broken by love or never been in love before and gave up on ever finding it, so they joined in hopes of giving others a chance.

Quinn was part of the latter group. She'd had a handful of boyfriends, but no one serious and after her last bad break-up, she heard about a group of people who didn't need to worry about their own relationships and basically go out and help people find their soulmates. It sounded like a good idea at the time. Before she knew it, Quinn was fitted with wings and out in the field on her first job. She was supposed to meet up with a young man who would bump into his eventual soulmate and spill coffee all over her. Armed with her "bow and arrow" that they had ironically branded as the Archer, which was actually a tiny device that shot little pins out the tip and when they pricked their targets - they heightened levels of serotonin or dopamine, or something. Quinn was never really interested in the specifics.

The first job was a complete success. She hit her target dead-on and it was the first time any of the cupids had done that. Most of the time, they panicked and missed their mark by miles and some even hit the wrong target. When that happened, they would have to call in the removalists who would then take the incorrect target in for cleansing, because if the wrong target was shot and fell in love with the original target's soulmate, it would confuse and jumble the entire fabric of humanity, or so they were told. A few of them believed that it was just because the investors didn't like seeing mistakes being made, so they "fixed" them.

Quinn quickly climbed up the ranks and it wasn't long before she became a senior officer in the Love Makers, much to her coworkers' chagrin. They would get jealous and even try to sabotage her jobs, but she was one of the best shooters in the group and never missed... except the one time she did.

It was a cool autumn afternoon and Quinn had just finished having lunch with a Brittany and Santana, her Sue Sylvester-appointed escorts. Her next job wasn't for an hour, so she had plenty of time to get to her destination, or so she thought. When they finished their meal, they started heading towards Quinn's next job. It was at a high school in her hometown of Lima, Ohio and she was supposed to help a young girl find her first love. They made their way to the high school and snatched up a few cheerleading letterman jackets in the locker room to hide their wings.

Quinn and the two other girls stood in one of the hallways, waiting for this new target, whoever she was. Cupids are never given their targets' names to keep them from getting too invested. The people in charge said that the less they know about the people, the better. They were afraid that if the cupids got attached in any way to their targets, it could cause complications. As she leaned against one of the red lockers with her leg bent behind her, a brunette girl walked up to her, books clutched to her chest.

"You've got to be kidding me," Santana sneered. "Check out the troll."

Brittany tilted her head to the side. "She doesn't look like a troll. Aren't they usually hairier and ugly? She's not ugly."

"Pardon me, that's my locker." The girl was wearing a hideous green sweater with what looked like a knitted narwhal on the front and matching green headband on top of her head. Quinn raised an eyebrow and moved over a couple of lockers to let the girl get to hers. She checked her watch and it was time to get a move on. Just then, a lanky looking tree of a boy started to walk up to the girl who had just made Quinn move from her spot and gave her a lopsided grin. Surely, these couldn't be her targets. Not only were they completely mis-matched, they were also really young. No way could two people just starting high school be soulmates; maybe it was Quinn being bitter and pessimistic, but she couldn't see their relationship working out. She took the post-it out of her pocket and, sure enough, these two were her targets.

Quinn checked her watch again and she was already ten seconds over her time limit, so she took out her Archer and discreetly pointed it at the brunette, when suddenly, one of the tree-boy's branches flailed around and knocked the Archer out of Quinn's hand and before she could run to pick it up, it had miss-fired right into Quinn's chest. The impact was minimal as it should have been, but it still shocked Quinn and she felt strange. A voice behind her rang out.

"Really, Finn, be more careful. You just knocked that thing out of her hand." The brunette walked across the hallway to fetch the Archer and handed it back to Quinn with a smile. "Sorry about that; he's a bit of a klutz."

Quinn took the Archer and looked into the brunette's eyes. Okay, now she felt really strange. Her pulse started to race and she could feel her palms begin to sweat. She couldn't think of a single thing to say, even though a simple "thank you" would have sufficed.

The brunette took the awkward silence as her cue to head to class, so she nodded once and turned around with Finn and they walked away from Quinn, down the hallway.

"Earth to Quinn," Santana said as she snapped her fingers in front of Quinn's face. She didn't stir and just stared at the girl with the narwhal sweater, who gave Quinn a quick glance over her shoulder, until she disappeared into the crowd of students.

When Quinn finally spoke, the only thing that came out of her mouth was: "I need to find out what her name is."

"This is bad. We need to get her out of here, Brit," Santana said as she grabbed one of Quinn's arms and the taller blonde grabbed the other. "Let's go, Q-pid. We need to detox you ASAP."

Hearing that snapped Quinn out of her stupor. "Wait, what? No, you can't do that. If Ms. Sylvester finds out that I screwed up again, I'm through."

Santana rolled her eyes. "That's not our problem. We were instructed to escort you on this job to make sure you got it done and you didn't. Sorry, looks like you're going to need to find another line of work."

Quinn ripped her arms out of the other girls' grasp. "You don't understand. This job is my life. It's the only thing I've ever been good at. I can't go back to being... normal. I can't."

Brittany gave Quinn a sympathetic look and then pouted at Santana. "Can we help her, San? Please?"

"Are you for real? Brittany, we were given one job. If we help her, we can kiss our promotions goodbye." Brittany continued pouting. She knew that Santana would break eventually, because she was convinced that she had superpowers - her face could change anyone's mind.

Santana growled in frustration. "Fine, we'll help her, but I swear, if this comes down on us, I am so throwing you both under the bus and saving my own ass."

"That's called murder, San. I don't think you would last very long in prison. I know you're secretly a giant teddy bear." Brittany poked Santana in the ribs and Santana couldn't help but laugh at her partner... in crime! Partner in crime.

"Okay, look, if we're really going to do this, we need a plan. We can't just go in and tag this brunette if Quinn's already been imprinted on her. Who knows what will happen? For all we know, it could cause an endless love triangle and none of them will ever find their soulmate. " Quinn nodded in agreement, but she had no idea what Santana was talking about. All she could think about was finding out what the girl's name was and if she would want to have lunch with her, or maybe get married tomorrow.

"You aren't even listening, are you," Santana sighed. "Whatever, let's go until we figure out what we're going to do." Standing on each side of Quinn, Santana and Brittany escorted her out of the high school while Santana tried to think of where to go. They couldn't go to their headquarters, because the other Love Makers would know that a target had been missed, and eventually, it would be tracked back to Quinn. Santana left the two other girls at a coffee shop with the strict instructions of "stay" while she went to go speak to some people who had dealt with this kind of thing before.

Not many people knew about the underground organization called Citadel that helped Love Makers escape the oppression. They believed that everyone deserved to have love and be loved, especially those who distributed it.

As Quinn nervously bounced her right leg and sipped her hot chocolate, Brittany stared at her inquisitively.

"We should go find that girl again," Brittany announced after taking a big gulp drop her coffee cup. "You like her."

Quinn looked up at the other blonde sitting across from her. As tempting as it was, Quinn didn't think Santana would appreciate arriving back at the coffee shop to see an empty table and no cupids waiting for her.

"I'd really like to, but Santana said to stay put. I don't think she's the type to forgive and forget."

Brittany scoffed. "Santana's harmless. She's all bark and no tree." Quinn raised an eyebrow at the confused reference, but smiled anyway. They were only a few minutes' walk from the high school. Chances were, they could head over and find the girl, Quinn could ask what her name was, and they could get back to the coffee shop before Santana knew they were missing. It was a foolproof plan, except for the part where it was completely against every rule in their Love Maker handbook and Quinn risked looking like a complete stalker.

But, Quinn wasn't exactly thinking straight. She was already falling hopelessly in love with this girl, who she had just met, and had been imprinted on. That meant that Quinn wouldn't be able to stop thinking about her until one of two things happened: either Quinn got detoxed and the imprint lifted, or the other girl had to break Quinn's heart so completely and effortlessly that it destroyed her. When there's no love left in a cupid's heart, they self-destruct in a way - the same way that any other person would when their heart breaks, but because cupids are the embodiment of love, having their heart broken quite literally kills them.

Brittany grabbed Quinn's hand and they ran back to the high school in search for the mysterious brunette. They hung out in the hallway, near the same locker where they saw her the first time and waited until classes let out. When they heard the bell ring, Quinn's pulse beat faster and faster. She searched through the ocean of students, looking for one particular fish, but it was more like trying to find a specific grain of sand on a beach. She felt Brittany elbow her gently in the ribs and she looked over to see her friend pointing towards the crowd and then she saw her: all five-foot, two-inches of her.

The brunette had the brightest smile that Quinn had ever seen. It was like a ray of sunlight bursting out of the darkest night. She felt her heart trying to jump out of her chest as the girl walked closer and closer. Forcing herself to turn away and face one of the lockers, she attempted to compose herself and not look like a complete fool.

"Hello again," said a voice behind her that sounded like angels singing. Quinn slowly turned around and was faced with the most beautiful girl that she had ever seen. She wasn't wearing a narwhal sweater this time. Instead, she was wearing a light blue dress that came down just below her knees with flats and a gold star pendant around her neck.

"Hi," Quinn croaked out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Hi... again." The brunette smiled and opened her locker, switching her textbooks. Quinn couldn't take her eyes off of her. Her face was absolutely perfect from her eyes to her nose, and she had the longest legs for someone of her stature.

"What's your next class?" the girl asked inquisitively. Having no idea what classes this high school was offering, Quinn froze and her eyes widened.

"Um... which class is it," she stalled, looking at Brittany for help.

"We have autoshop," Brittany exclaimed.

The other girl raised an eyebrow, but nodded politely. "Not too many girls in there, I bet. Good for you two - break those gender stereotypes."

Quinn breathed a sigh of relief. Now was her chance to find out where she would be for the rest of the day. "How about you? Which class do you have?"

The girl bit the corner of her lip nervously. "I'm in glee club, so I'll be there next period. Regionals are coming up, so we need to practice our musical numbers."

She could sing. Could this beauty get any more perfect?

"I'll have to come hear you sing sometime," Quinn grinned and Rachel returned it with a beaming smile of her own. She was falling so ridiculously hard for this girl and it was only the second time they had spoken. What was happening to her?

"I'd like that," the girl answered. "Regionals are in Columbus this year. I know it's quite a drive and you don't even know me, but – "

"I'll be there," Quinn interrupted, blushing at her outburst. "I mean, I'll definitely try to make it; I was planning on heading out that way sometime anyway. Besides, it sounds like fun and I should support the school's extracurricular activities."

The shorter brunette smiled and looked like she was going to say something else, but the bell rang, indicating that they needed to get to their next class. She said goodbye and turned to leave when Quinn reached out and touched the other girl's shoulder.

"Hey, uh... what's your name?"

"Rachel," she answered. "Rachel Berry."

Rachel Berry. Even her name sounded musical and full of wonder. Quinn looked delighted and Rachel gave a small laugh. "I'm Quinn and this is my friend Brittany. It's nice to meet you, Rachel Berry." She extended her hand and Rachel graciously took it and gave a quick handshake while Brittany waved an introduction.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Quinn. We'd better get to class, don't want to get tardy slips." Quinn nodded in agreement and watched as Rachel turned to leave, books clutched to her chest as usual. The giddiness that filled Quinn's insides couldn't have protected her from what was about to happen. A strong hand came down on Quinn's shoulder and twirled her around.

"What the hell are you two doing here? I told you to stay at the coffee shop." Santana was seething. If she were frowning any harder, her forehead would probably crack in half.

"I-I needed to know her name. We were only going to be here for a few minutes and were going to go right back."

Brittany stepped forward and gave her infamous pout that she knew Santana couldn't handle. "I'm sorry, it was my idea. Quinn looked so sad and I just wanted her to be happy. Please don't be mad, San." Santana rolled her eyes; she couldn't be mad at Brittany when she was pulling that face. Superpowers be damned.

"All right, well, let's go somewhere where we can have some privacy. I got some information that might be able to help our Q-pid here." They made their way off of the high school grounds, avoiding everyone they could, so they wouldn't be mistaken for three cheerleaders ditching their next class. Ending up underneath the bleachers on the football field, they took a seat on the grass as Santana spilled the beans about the information she'd gathered.

"Okay," she began, "From what I've been told, there's an underground group that help cupids who've fallen if they don't want to get detoxed, but that would mean you'd lose your job and it doesn't look like Rachel's been imprinted back, so you could lose her, too."

Quinn swallowed thickly. The thought of losing Rachel before even having her filled her with so much sadness, she thought it would envelope her completely.

"The other option," Santana continued, "Would be to turn yourself in, get detoxed, and try to forget about her." Neither option sounded ideal, but Quinn was running out of time. She knew that she didn't want to remove her imprint on Rachel, even though her elevated bodily chemicals could have been the reason for her feelings. All she knew was that she had never felt this way about anyone before and she wasn't about to throw it all away for nothing.

"I don't want to lose her," Quinn whispered quietly, looking down at the spiny blades of grass and mindlessly plucking them from the earth.

"Then I guess we'd better find a way for her to fall for you, so you can live happily ever after, hidden with the resistance group," Santana said, rolling her eyes at herself, disgusted that she was getting so sappy. That never would have come out of her mouth two years ago when she was a normal teenager with a chip on her shoulder and way too much pride. Brittany had calmed her down and softened her edges.

Knowing that it wouldn't be much longer before Sue and her cronies figured out that Quinn had missed her target, the three girls steered clear of head office. They couldn't go back to their apartments, because they were funded by the Love Makers and had cameras and security all over, so they rented a motel room close to the high school.

For the rest of the week, Quinn would show up at "her" locker like clockwork, waiting for Rachel to walk by and say a polite hello, make small talk, and give Quinn a little wave goodbye on her way to class. It took Quinn three days to muster up the courage to ask Rachel what she did after school and when Rachel said that she just went straight home when they didn't have glee practice, Quinn asked if she wanted to grab a coffee. When Rachel said yes, Quinn resisted the urge to jump up and down and celebrate. As usual, Santana would roll her eyes and Brittany would tell her to be nice and batted her eyelashes until Santana laughed.

When they said goodbye and Rachel left for her class, Quinn realized a couple of things: Number one, she had nothing to wear (Santana telling her it didn't matter, because it wasn't a date), and two, she didn't drink coffee. This kind-of-but-not-really date was going to be interesting.