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sassasquashedgrapes · 7 years ago

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Deep Love: Close to Ending and the Shorts

Hello Everyone! I sure hope you enjoyed Deep Love. If anyone think it sounds like something out of a terrible porn, it isn’t. It’s actually based from a song of an English trip hop duo called Mandalay. The song was an inspiration for the album, Instinct. Go give it a try on Spotify when you can, it’s a lovely song.

So again, just to remind everyone, I wasn’t really able to come up with a final finale for this story. Most stories I’ve written are usually in drafts and it takes me a long while to come around to end it. I guess you can say I do have that challenge, I’m pretty sure every writer comes across that. But ever since I took to heart the 5 Second Rule, a self-help motivational guide by Mel Robbins, I decided what the heck. I’m just gonna publish all my stuff on Tumblr and hope maybe someday, someone would pick this little humble blog up and love reading the stories the same way I wrote them so many years before. Truth be told, I must have written tons of stories. Short ones, long ones, all of which are either half-baked, or finished drafts. I had recently made myself a commitment I was gonna post my stuff no excuses.

So again, just read along! Thanks so much for making time for this lengthy reads and I hope to see y’all again soon.

* **

“So how does it feel to be the only female to have both Hargreave men chasing you? And who’s the leading contender?”

We were in the middle of dinner at Breadsticks when Chelsea had popped that question. She was perching with her chin on her fists as she innocently asked me before I could take a bite off my salad. I could swear I heard their grandmother, Constance Hargreave gasp. Neil turns his head and glares at his stepsister while Iain though nonplussed appears to be mildly intrigued. I’m so glad that my mother didn’t decide to join us as she had a late prayer meeting with her friends at church because I just wanted to die right now.

Instead, I feign ignorance and pretend that I misunderstood what the irrepressible pre-teen just said. I blink and purse my lips as I say “I’m sorry?”

“Chelsea,” Neil warns as he starts to intervene but changes his mind when Chelsea quickly adds. “Are you immune to their good looks and their wealth? Or were you just playing hard to get? Stop looking at me like you’re going to kill me, Iain because you’re not going to and it’s no secret that we’re rich. The jig is up. Besides, Quinn’s probably known that the minute she’s met you.”

Mortified, I look at Iain who turns to me expectantly. His facial reaction is contained, but I can tell from his body language that he wants to hear what I have to say, I swallow and lick my lips nervously.

“I know I’ve got this in the bag.” Neil turns and winks conspiratorially at me and I can hear Iain harrumph surly in response.

The entire conversation was so outrageous that I end up doubling over in laughter. I never laugh when I’m nervous and this has got to be the first time I’ve done so. I cover my face with my hands and lean back and let the nervous giddiness take hold. I laugh so hard that everyone in the table also start to laugh along that when I do come out with my explanation, the expressions on their faces makes me want to laugh again.

“Seriously, Quinn. What would it take for a man to impress you?” Neil prods, because he’s fascinated by this debacle.

“I---I----I--- don’t know.” I breathed in the middle of the peals as I take a peek at both brothers’ astonished looks as they turn to each other and exchange frowns. Seeing their reaction just makes me double more in the hilarity of this absurd situation and I continue to giggle in mirth. Neil starts grinning in amusement as if in truce and Iain’s eyes crinkle in amusement.

“Mention jewelry.” Constance promptly advises as if wanting to be a part of the conversation. “A diamond bracelet would be a good gesture.”

That incredible suggestion just pulled me over the edge that when I thought I’d stop laughing, I start bursting out another round. “I-i-is that what wealthy New York socialites do?” I manage to say between the fits. No longer did I feel self-conscious, I lift my gaze to Iain as he’s been remarkably silent throughout this whole scene. “What would you do if I ….I asked you for a diamond bracelet?”

Iain smiles at me, his eyes gleaming wickedly. He’s regarding me closely, slowly taking in the flushed appearance of my cheeks as I take in how his dark, almost black hair glints like raven and ebony silk under the recessed halogens of the dimly lit restaurant. His bright blue eyes are shining with amusement and something else that makes my heart do double flips and starts to pound overtime as those blue orbs darken and a lock of his hair tumbles carelessly against his forehead as if for added effect. He doesn’t breathe a word to answer, but I know exactly what he’s thinking which makes me stop laughing as I stare boldly at his scrutiny then when I remember that we’re not alone, I gaze downward as if to hide my eyes.

“On second thought,” Constance amends as she correctly interprets Iain’s thoughts. “Forget the bracelet, dear. Go straight for a diamond necklace.”

“Well now we know who won,” Chelsea murmurs. “At this rate, Quinn could probably ask for the whole set.” She turns and looks at her stepbrother sympathetically and clucks her tongue. “Sorry Neil.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be sorry when I smack your butt with this.” Neil growls as he warningly lifts his hand. But we all know it’s a ruse and Chelsea doesn’t seem affected in the least.

Time passes very quickly after that. By the time the bill was set up and the plates were cleared, I felt closer to the Hargreaves thanks to Chelsea. With democratic impartiality, the little outspoken girl had switched her attention from me and aimed her series of impertinent comments to her grandmother’s alcohol addiction and then at her brothers. No one was spared at the end of the meal that Chelsea’s victims had bonded in shared helplessness, sympathy, and hopeless laughter.

Judging from Iain’s knowing and sympathetic grin, I’d come to assume that he had lived a life of elegant leisure far above the stress of ordinary humanity apart from the melodrama that occurred between his parents. I knew he had once mentioned that he had a sister who was a ‘pain in the ass’, but the realization that he had to ‘endure’ the whims of a precocious child made him now seem very human and likable. Chelsea gave her grandmother absolutely no mercy and Constance generally let her get away with it. I notice with trepidation that the young girl might be right about their grandmother’s fondness for liquor as I notice that she’s already down on her fifth bottle of champagne.

Iain, on the other hand, had limits at Chelsea’s jibes which mostly involved his work. He ignores Chelsea’s jokes about his personal life and the women whom he’d allegedly been involved, most of which are familiar names of starlets and models, other than his longtime girlfriend Lily who sounds like a cross between a demented version of Santana and Baby Jane Hudson. When Chelsea gets to remake about his business and work, Iain’s jaw tightens and his voice turns ominous as he says “I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” which she surprisingly stops in midsentence and does not “go there.”

The car ride home took less than fifteen minutes. Because Neil now is under the custody of Constance, since she was named as the next of kin by their father he was now living with them and was staying at the Presidential suite of the Courtyard Marriott. Anton is acting as their chauffer and it’s amazing that they managed to hire a full scale limousine at such short notice. Iain still chooses to stay with me until my mother comes home so we’re dropped off in front of our house. I say my goodbyes and thank Constance for the meal and reserve my smile at Chelsea and say, “Thank you for the making me feel like a member of your family.”

For once, the girl was at a loss for words as I hear Iain murmur goodnight to everyone as he gently takes my elbow as we stroll side by side towards the front door in silence. Great, just when I thought I’d gotten used to Iain now that I know more about him and his family, I wouldn’t feel as unease as ever. I realize that Iain just about feels the same awkwardness and I break our weird interlude.

“That was interesting. Chelsea’s a riot.”

“You were the only interesting topic,” Iain smiles as he corrects me which strikes me as something significant. I blush in spite of myself and he quickly adds. “She also went beyond exercising her usual modicum of restraint to make you feel at ease.”

I turn my head to look at him to deny it but the minute I look into his eyes, I knew I could never lie to him. “You’re right.” I admit feebly. He relaxes his stance a little and shoves his hands in his pocket and looks at me in silence.

“Is it because of me? Or does my family intimidate you?”

Since the day I’ve met Iain, all plans of trying to flirt with him have flown out the window because I knew that I couldn’t bullshit my way around him. It was like he has this unnerving ability to read my own thoughts and actions because they mirror his own. I have lately come to realize that I can also read through his own actions and right now though he looks as cool as a cucumber, I understand that he’s also wary that I would think differently of him because of his social status and money. In fact, that would have also been true but seeing how gentle and patient he was in front of his sister and seeing the easy camaraderie he shared with Neil had made me change my mind about him being too capricious and cold. I’ve given up with playing games and for once, I try honesty instead.

“Just you,” I say lamely averting my eyes from his direct gaze.

“Why? Do you find me intimidating?” “Yes and because you aren’t like most guys I’ve ever met.”

Iain regards this in silence and nods. He knows he’s nothing like the boys I used to date. It’s the darn truth and I look at him and can see that he seems relieved by this admission for some unfathomable reason.

“That’s right, I’m nothing like Frankenteen and that Mohawk punk. And don’t you even dare compare me to that Ken doll.”

My eyes fly to his face and he looks to be smirking, as if amused by what he’s just said.

“Fact is, I like you Quinn. More than I really should. One of the things that I like most about you is that you are actually refreshingly open and honest especially when you’re alone with me. You don’t say it verbally as you could, but I can tell from your actions anyway. Unlike the rest of the world who sees you as the untouchable Queen Bee, I see something else. You and I aren’t that different from each other which is why I get you more than anyone else you’ve met.”

I don’t answer him because I know it’s true. In the distance I can hear crickets chirping and watch as a lone firefly make its way doing rounds in the lawn. I bring my arms closer towards me, utter grateful that Iain had lent me his jacket as the added warmth helps tremendously with the pressure. I stop and unconsciously rub my chin against the softness of his wool jacket, taking in the scent of Iain that’s mixed with Bergamot and sandalwood from his expensive bodywash.

“So was Chelsea right about you being attracted to me?” He asked bluntly.

I look at him sharply because he already knows the answer. I was about to retort a sarcastic question but stop myself in time and bite my lip in response as I play with the gold cross pendant around my neck.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“What else do you want to hear, Iain?” I ask irritably.

“I just want to know why you’ve been avoiding me. The last few days, you’ve spent more time with Neil than you’ve bothered with me and I want to know why.”

“Maybe you should try analyzing everything that’s transpired this evening,” I suggest my eyes blazing in anger. God, I hate playing this honesty card with him. It’s so frustrating. I’m tired of this one-sided approach so I ask him the same question earlier just as bluntly.

“Do you find me attractive?”

He looks at me as if I’ve lost my marbles. I should be insulted for it’s not a reaction I expect, but then again, because I know him too well I already know the answer to my question and as to why he’s looking at me in a way that’s telling me is that he can’t believe that I can’t see what he does.

He shifts his gaze from my blonde hair, marveling at its softness and slowly makes his gaze down my face as if memorizing each plane and imprinting it as it were the only thing he needed to do in order to survive before it settles on my lips and my breath hitches as I watch his eyes darken. He then moves on to stare into my eyes and we look at each other squarely in silence. My heart is pounding like crazy, my blood is coursing through my veins in a pool of anticipation over something I can’t even begin to describe as I mirror the exact same desire he’s feeling. My attention is drawn to his beautiful mouth that I so desperately want him to come closer to touch me and kiss me senseless, but he doesn’t. Iain stays where he is, even though I could tell that he’s restraining himself because he’s breathing harder than usual and there’s tension radiating from those broad muscular shoulders. I get this feeling that he thinks he’s doing this for my benefit, because if he doesn’t he may not be able to control himself.

“I think you’re so stunningly beautiful that you take my breath away every time I look at you.” He breathes softly, it sounds almost like a whisper.

“But why do you act like you don’t?” I wring my hands to keep them from throwing myself towards pulling my hair out or maybe from his but because Iain’s taller than me, it would just seem awkward for me to overreach. Not that I wouldn’t dare try, but I swear this boy is trying my patience. You’d think I’d get all addle patted after his declaration of what I think is the most beautifully thrilling lines a man could ever say, but right now I’m desperate for some action!

“Because I’m not the man for you Quinn,” Iain explains sadly. I stare at him stunned by his confession. This entire evening has now done a complete 360 turn. Whoa, Iain thinks he doesn’t deserve me? What in the world does he mean?

“Is it because I’m too young for you?” “No,” he shakes his head as he gives me a lopsided smile as he laughs sardonically. “I don’t even get why your parents have entrusted me to you as your legal guardian since you’re already of legal age in some states and a few European countries.”

“Then what is it?”

Iain runs his hand through his beautiful long, dark hair and musses it up. “I’m a fucked up individual that’s why. You already know what went down with my parents, their crazy divorce and drama that’s suitable for a day time soap plot. My Aunt Luna is a crazy megalomaniac; Constance is just as messed that she drinks herself into a stupor so she could feel numb because she’s never gotten over my grandfather’s death and can’t stand up against my great-grandmother who terrifies her. I hope to God Neil doesn’t end up as jaded as me.”

I stare at him wordlessly, my mind reeling in disbelief.

“So you’re saying that you think that you don’t deserve me?”

“I can’t give you what you need,” he says cryptically. He can’t be serious, I think but judging by the look on his face, he’s absolutely convinced. I’m about to give my own rebuttal but he continues on as if I’m allowed to speak my own mind.

“You’re a nice girl. Underneath that Ice Princess exterior, you’re warm, passionate, and so full of life. Despite everything you’ve been through, whatever drama you want to conjure to others because you want to keep up that image of yours, I know that you’ll want to someday settle down and have a few kids of your own you’d like to send to Yale someday. Am I right?”

“Well, I do plan to get married someday and if my kids want to go to Yale, that’s fine too. They can also go to Harvard if they want to, I won’t stop them either.”

“I don’t think I can be able to give you that kind of commitment you deserve. I’d make a horrible parent and a terrible husband like my father. I’m not the family man type.”

I could tell the note of bitterness from his words which made me tilt my head to look at him as my brows furrow at his words. The pieces were all slowly falling together. Iain was afraid that he’d share the same tragic fate as his parents did and was so convinced by it that he was pushing me away. He’s not so much different from me as I do a lot of self-destructive things in order to hurt and push the people I’ve cared about away. Sadly, it worked for most of those people but I wanted to convince myself and to Iain that I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m sure you’d make a wonderful father,” I say with all honesty. The sad truth of it all was though he was convinced he wasn’t genetically capable of caring for anyone other than himself, I know in my heart that he was because....well, I just know, okay?

Unfortunately, my time with Iain was limited and that in the next day, he was going to take that flight to New York with Neil in tow and that would be the last I would ever see and hear from him again. I had my whole life ahead of me at Yale and being in a relationship with Iain was almost impossible. What did you expect? My subconscious snorts as she plants her hands on her hips and clucks sadly in this ‘I told you so’ look on her face. He was going to visit you every day while he’s busy doing whatever it is in New York? Not to mention after all those string of affairs with models, starlets, yoga instructors, and pole dancers he’d want to settle with a small town girl who got knocked up by a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend? Did you really expect he was going to fall in love with you like you do?

Wait. Hang on a sec.

I’m in love with Iain?

Oh. Dear. God.

This realization is just getting more and more depressing. Iain is silent as if he’s trying to figure me out and I’m pallid with the revelation of this breaking news. How like me to fall in love with someone who’s leaving the next day? Until then, I planned to enjoy whatever time was left with him. Even the sad minutes like this. There was so much I wanted to tell him, about his strange family dynamic but I didn’t know where to begin of if he was willing to even hear out what I had to say. Instead I hang on the last possible self-control from stopping myself from sobbing all over him.

“I really wish things could be different,” Iain says softly as he opens the door. I know it’s hard for him to say that he’s sorry and judging from that too-handsome-for-his-own-good/sexy demigod face that’s full of sorrow I nod at his half-given apology.

“Good night, Iain.” I say weakly as I turn and head off to the darkness of my room.

*** Story cuts to here and goes on a time skip....***

****

Quinn

I sit idly watching this perky redhead named Gia who talks animatedly as I barely listen to her plans once she gets to Connecticut. I nod my head politely barely registering a thing she’s saying and barely notice a man wearing a train conductor uniform hand over a copy of Newsweek magazine. I hear Gia swoon as she looks at the front cover and gives out a lustful sigh. I’m caught out of my reverie and look at her blankly and she gives me this sheepish look.

“I’ve like had a crush on him like forever.” She explains and leans over conspiratorially “sometimes, I like to think he’s the real life Christian Grey from that 50 Shades book and the character is somewhat based on him than Edward from Twilight.” She turns the magazine. “Look—isn’t he the most gorgeous male specimen you’ve ever seen?”

My gaze slides from Gia’s goofy smile to the handsome masculine face looking back at me. Shock freezes over my system and I find myself being barely able to breathe for the slightest seconds.

“I know right, he is absolutely drool-worthy. I wouldn’t mind cuffing him to my bedpost too,” Gia giggles gaily, unaware that I am more mortified than awestruck. I swallow forcibly as I gaze into Iain’s arrogant dark brows, the faint sardonic smile bleakly recalling those hard lips when he kissed me that night at the prom. I remember the feel of his soft, dark brown hair against my hands that fateful night and I turn my attention to the bold print entitled: J. Maximiliain Charles Hargreave. President, CEO of Global Merchants & Holdings.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and my mind was still reeling at the thought of it all. I grab the magazine from Gia’s hands and read the article as the searing pain rips through my insides, tearing through me as I digest the words of the four page written article about his life. That he was a child prodigy with an IQ of 160 and possesses an eidetic memory, how he had gained the profits from a song that was composed by his grandfather when he died, no doubt the same man who taught him to play the piano, how he had earned his first billion before hitting puberty when he used those profits investing in computer and electronics stock, how he also developed a well known program software which quadrupled his worth, his life in England and going to boarding school in Scotland, and how he quit his final year in Harvard as an economics major with a degree in Computer Science a few months shy from graduation, opting to rightfully inherit his company when he turned 21 years of age. I also notice pictures of him with famous stars, him being seen arm in arm with some tall leggy model who I realize was Lily, the psycho ex-girlfriend bitch-whore who came after me during the week when Iain left.

***Story Cuts again****

“Mrs. Rolfe-Stuart will see you now,” the butler informs me and I follow him to a room that appears to be like a greenhouse overlooking a sprawling back lawn. I take in the magnificent sight of the surroundings and above the wall in the middle hangs a huge yellow banner shaped like a shield with a light blue checkered design cut in the middle, as if dividing it into two. There are statues of lions made out of ivory that were meant to guard the banner. On the other side of the wall is a crest of a pelican sitting on a nest feeding her young ones with the words: Vericite. Vulnare. Virtus. A tartan plaid in red with blue and green details used as quilts and pillow covers inside the solarium. In the middle sits a frail old woman with intense gray eyes that look hauntingly familiar. She must have been very pretty in her day as her even patrician features stand out and she still has the bearing of a statuesque queen despite the severe arthritis and old age. She gives me the one over look and I can tell from her sour expression that she isn’t amused or pleased.

This woman is my benefactor? She hardly looks like the type that gives anything to charity. She stares at me with those cold, disapproving eyes colder than subzero degree temperature.

“You’re different from what I expected.” She pauses again to pass another condemning look over my hair taking in the emerald green blouse, steel gray A-line skirt, and black Christian Louboutin pumps I’ve borrowed from Millet. “You’re too skinny by far, you’re not very tall, and you’re too pale. Put some blush and lipstick.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Rolfe-Stuart.” I answer bleakly as I take the seat she offers in front of me. Genevieve Stuart’s gray eyes narrow and her face is unreadable as I open my purse and do exactly what she commands. When I’m done I look at her straight in the eye. “Will this do?”

“Are you mocking me, child?”

“No, ma’am. I am not.” I answer curtly, feeling like a schoolgirl in a Prep boarding school. “I came here to thank you for the scholarship you’ve awarded me. As you aware of my intentions of changing majors, I am no longer worthy of receiving the grant you’ve offered. Though however, I am most grateful for your kindness and generosity, I am only truly sorry.”

“Is that all?” she barks after a long pause. I notice that she is now looking at me with a combination between curiosity and wonder.

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” she announces as I feel a surge of dread rise to my throat. “I assume that given the connection between Dean Pendleton and his wife, Constance whom you’ve met previously in Ohio, you already know that I am Iain’s great grandmother. I insisted in giving you the grant for several reasons despite Iain’s initial objections. Why do you look so surprised? For a rather intelligent girl, I’m certain that you’ve already known this long before you stepped into the walls of Yale.”

“Iain offered to pay for my tuition?” I echo bleakly, a memory of him telling me not to worry about my financial problem pops into my head. We were sitting side by side while he was playing the piano, his dark hair falling carelessly on his forehead, his blue eyes gazing intently as my heart beats in staccato, wanting to drown into the fathomless depths of those orbs.

“Of course he did. He bribed David Pendleton with an expensive sports car.” Genevieve snorts, her nose crinkles in distaste as she mutters something about men and their cars. “I however, found this piece of information interesting when it was relayed to me by Constance when she worried about her 4th husband’s safety and desire to drive an overpriced automobile. Iain is highly sentimental with this particular car. He won it in a ridiculous bet he made in boarding school. It was quite a scandal at the time, I’m afraid. I was glad that the headmaster Dr. Heussaff is a very agreeable man when it comes to monetary disclosure.” She hesitates for a moment before she says reluctantly. “Iain flashed the Duchess of Cambridge when he accepted his diploma. She wasn’t the Duchess at the time but a commoner visiting a relative who was in the same class as Iain, but still it was quite an embarrassment that the school nearly retracted his right to graduate had I not intervened. He gained a McLaren F1 GTR Longtail for his efforts, but in my personal opinion, that boy should have been horsewhipped.” Genevieve’s brows snap together as she frowns in displeasure, but I can tell that she’s amused because her lips were twitching as if with reluctant laughter and her cold gray eyes are squinting in merriment.

I feel dizzy again thinking of the car Iain gave to Dean Pendleton to pay for my tuition. It’s one of the world’s most expensive cars priced at nearly 2.4 million dollars. He gave up his car to pay for your tuition, my subconscious clucks in dismay while she checks out the banner, tartan plaids, and the other opulence found inside Mrs. Rolfe-Stuart’s house as she gives me a derisive look as to how I’ve fucked up big time by squandering away at my scholarship. Iain’s obvious wealth still hasn’t sunk in apparently either. I find it hard to assimilate the cold, business tycoon who was raised in money from the mercurial, talented pianist who had been my tutor and lived with me for almost two weeks. I’m so wrapped in thought, I barely notice Mrs. Stuart has observed my reaction in stunned silence. She nods as if she’s finally decided on something.

“Enough of the pleasantries,” Mrs. Stuart motions me to come closer and she offers me to sit beside her. “I must insist that after what you have done for my family, this scholarship is yours no matter how you choose to do away with whatever endeavors you wish to pursue.”

“But, Mrs. Stuart the scholarship is intended for a Dramatic Arts Major.”

“I’ll worry about the semantics later,” she snaps. “My, you are quite the stubborn creature. This grant is yours and yet you still refuse it. How you choose to dedicate your scholarly pursuits is none of my business. I will see to your scholarly needs as the grant will still be provided for you. I also get this feeling that you’re doing this out of ill will as I see nothing of your demeanor that indicates you’re interested in uplifting your social butterfly status otherwise you’d be terrified of me. I know about that ‘secret society’ you’ve joined and I used to be the Grand Mistress of the House so right about now instead of kissing my ass, you’re tossing away your scholarship like a wet, dirty rag. Is it because you truly feel that you are not worthy or is it because I’m related to Iain and you want nothing to do with anything that concerns him therefore this shenanigan of yours is like an act of spite?”

I stare at her wordlessly. She looks at me speculatively, almost as if she’s testing me. I get more nervous thinking that I might give her the wrong answer so I take in a deep breath and respond as truthfully as I could.

“Yes, it’s both. I’m not worthy of such attention because I feel like I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. I was helping out a friend, who was looking for his long lost brother. I knew nothing of his background as he had kept that information to himself. When I found out, I felt betrayed because he wasn’t completely honest with me.” I laugh shakily, remembering my reaction to his Newsweek cover on the train ride to New Haven.

“And now that you know who he truly is, how does that make you feel? I’m surprised you’re not knocking down his door begging him to marry you as many women have done far more desperate, yet convincingly clever methods into persuading my great-grandson.”

“We’re worlds apart. He’s sophisticated, worldly, and experienced while I’m just the small town cheerleader who nearly ruined her life by getting pregnant.”

Mrs. Stuart is quiet for a moment, as if digesting this news. When she finally speaks she says it in a way that surprises me given the way she treated me earlier as her voice is less gruff in quality.

“Do you still love him? The boy who got you pregnant?”

“I care about him, I won’t deny that. We share a bond having been two unwilling teenagers brought into a situation we couldn’t get out of for nine months. But if you’re asking do I imagine sharing a future with Noah Puckerman, then my answer is no. We had nothing in common except for Beth.”

“And the child, what of her?”

“She has a loving adoptive mother who cares about her. Beth deserves more than what I can offer. I’ve tried many ways to get her back, but in the end I learned to let go because I knew it was the right thing to do. I was a child and so was she. It wasn’t an easy thing for me to get over, because I‘ve just learned to love someone other than myself and to let go of that cut me deeper than any pain imaginable.”

“We all have our own skeletons, Quinn. It is of the past and we must learn to move on from it.” Two things take me by surprise. Genevieve Rolfe-Stuart addresses me by my first name and her voice has taken a quiet demeanor almost as if in an empathizing manner.

“So what major have you decided on? I take it Drama is not much to your liking since you have barely attended any of their classes.”

“Literature Major.” I shrug. “I’ve always enjoyed writing and reading books.”

“I’ve mentioned before that you can do away with your scholarship however you like.”

“I still cannot accept the offer, Mrs. Stuart.” I scornfully inform her.

“Don’t be impertinent, child! You may not be one of us, but you have more resilience underneath that delicate façade than Constance and Iain’s mother combined. Given from what I can already gather having just met you, you are not only proud, but stubborn, defiant, and manipulative in some degree. Look at you right now—so sure of yourself even though you know that I could buy and sell that pathetic little town of yours, you have the nerve to come to my house and throw back my money because you think you’re better than me. You, walking in here with the confidence of a king, even though you look disheveled in those obviously borrowed clothes, but still have the balls to stare me down thinking that I’m wrong and you’re right.” For some inexplicable reason, she finds this amusing and is almost restraining the urge to laugh. She settles down and looks me in the eye.

“You will accept the grant. That is final.” She continues on and raises a hand before I have a chance to object again. “In the past few months you have managed to turn my family’s life upside down. You’ve met my great grandson and reunited him with his brother, bridging a gap that has spanned nearly seventeen years. For that reason alone I am truly grateful am in your debt. So we will have no more talk about declining the tuition and boarding expenses I’ve covered for your entire stay at Yale. Even if it takes you ten years to graduate then so bloody be it.” She interjects again giving me another hard cold stare when I’m about to object again.

“If you won’t accept it in my behalf, then do it for Neil’s sake since he’s the only member of our family whom you bear a remarkable high tolerance for. You’ve done him a favor of bringing him back to us, now allow him at least the courtesy as his friend to assist you in your time of need.”

She checks me if I’m going to argue. When she notes my silence, she continues. “Furthermore, I wish to discuss something else because my concern is now geared towards Iain. Ever since he has met you, my great grandson has surprised me with his behavior. Before you walked into our lives, Iain was a determined, young man who cared about nothing but himself and his work. I theorized that it was because he was deeply hurt from his parents’ divorce and he did not want history repeating itself.” She looks at me oddly almost as if berating me.

“In all my years having had raised him, never has he expressed the bizarre conduct that he’s showed in these past few months. He may have had a long history of defying propriety at times, but never has he done anything outrageous to provoke a scandal. But from the time that he has met you, Iain’s actions have demonstrated something more than just personal gratitude. The first was when he offered to give up something of sentimental value and conspired with the Dean to create a fake scholarship by paying for your tuition. Then he walked out from an important meeting to be at your side when he heard about your accident. He not only cover all your hospital expenses, but he even went beyond what was expected by hiring a team of the world’s best Neurosurgeons to operate on you. He not only provided the doctors first-class accommodations and travel, he paid them handsomely including overtime. I can imagine the anguish he’s been through watching you for three days without sleep only to be rejected by you regardless of what he’s done. And even in spite of this, he then calls in one of the country’s best Rehabilitation doctors and provides every expense necessary for you to be able to walk again. When he returned from his trip, he’s been irritable, aloof, and angry to the point that he has frightened high powered consecutives and caused switchboard operators to cry from the strain. For someone he has barely known in a span of less than two weeks, Iain has gone through great lengths to prove to you that he cares and still you say that you aren’t worthy?”

I pale at the thought as each word she says cuts me to the core. He paid for everything? That explains why the nurses were commenting about how lucky I was. It wasn’t because they thought Iain was handsome, but because he did everything he could to take care of me. The doctors, the staff, everything was first class, how could I have not noticed that? Images of Iain at my bedside, his eyes red and puffy from lack of sleep as he watches dutifully over me. I even remember him crawling beside me on the bed, fast asleep with his arm draped around me, almost as if protecting me from further harm. I even remember waking up that very day seeing both our hands linked while he slept beside me during his vigil. I imagine again him looking adorably disheveled in his charcoal gray business suit, wearing a silk blue tie with pink elephants. Then I remember him wrapping the beautiful jeweled Birds of Paradise bracelet and kissing my wrist as he makes his pledge: “The fact is, I love you, Lucy Quinn Fabray. You have enamored, enchanted, and bewitched me more than any woman I’ve ever known.” I remember him smiling tenderly when I notice his tie as he removes it then wrapping it around my neck before kissing me senseless.

“I take it from your expression that you’ve never been informed of his efforts.”

“It’s quite a shock, Ma’am.” I admit anxiously, I say nothing more as words have eluded me for the time being.

“He also has been single for a very long time and hasn’t been on one of his usual night outs with a model on his arm. Considering now having finally met you, I can easily conclude that you are the reason for all this drama. I agree that my great grandson is out of his head. He would never act this foolish if he wasn’t thoroughly besotted.”

I turn my head, suppressing the urge that my heart is beating loud enough to explode in my ribcage. “If you’re thinking of matchmaking, and I think you are, you have the wrong woman.”

Mrs. Rolfe-Stuart eyes narrow as she snorts. “And you think Lily de Jong is a better option?”

“I meant Alyssa Hayworth.” I recall the auburn haired statuesque beauty in one of the many articles I’ve read featuring Iain. Society gossip magazines were soon hinting at the possibility of an engagement. Genevieve was speaking the truth because since Prom-asaurus, most of Iain’s photos were of him single. He no longer possessed an arm candy in the form of a Victoria’s Secret or Sports Illustrated model.

“Don’t be silly, she is merely his business partner. I’ve known Alyssa as our families are close friends. She is a business acquaintance. That is all.”

My heart soars with the possibilities. He hasn’t given up on me! I remember that fateful night at the prom before he let me go. “No, I won’t have you like this. Not when you still need time to figure things about your life. You’re young and you need to experience what it has to offer because it’s all a part of growing up. I remember what you’ve done to your exes and I will prove to you that I am not like them. I am a patient man, Quinn and if it means that I will have to wait forever, I will because I love you. Judging from that kiss, I know you feel the same way too and refuse to admit it because you’re confused about yourself and what you need. So no matter how long it takes, until then, I will anticipate that day when you finally admit that you love me.”

“Do you know what the banner says above?” Mrs. Rolfe-Stuart’s voice breaks me from my daydreaming sequence involving her great grandson. “I assume that with your grade point average this semester, you have conquered Latin? In the next succeeding months, I must insist that you also learn Gaelic.”

I’m too rattled to even consider that she wants me to learn how to speak another foreign language that I gaze again at the words: Vericite. Vulnare. Virtus.

“It says courage grows stronger in the wounded.”

Genevieve Rolfe-Stuart nods approvingly. “Yes, it does. It is the Stuart household code of honor. My ancestors were a resilient lot. You may not be of our blood, Miss Fabray, but there is a quality in you that reflect on these very words my family has stood and died proudly for. It comes to no surprise that my great grandson has recognized this as well, seeing how taken he is by you. I may have married a rich American Oil magnate and stood by my vows and despite it all, I still kept my name. In fact, I added my surname as a hyphenate to his. An outrageous thing to do, but my dear Edward, may the Lord rest his soul, knew it was futile to argue with me,” she laughs at the memory and simpers for a moment.

Story cuts here

***

Bonus material Thanksgiving Day : Based from Glee Season Four Episode 8

Quinn

***

I nuzzle up against him, eyes closed, my nose at his throat taking in the sweet sexy scent that I know belongs to the man I’ve been hopelessly in love with for months and now happens to be mine. Two weeks of being together after finally reconciling, I let my mind drift as I smile dreamily still in the haze of wake and sleep. I allow myself to fantasize that we’re happily married and on our honeymoon even though the last two weeks felt like it. I feel soft kisses raining down on my forehead as Iain gently nudges me awake.

“Quinn, wake up.” He whispers.

“No.” I rub my face against his bare chest against that denial and feel the rumble underneath as he chuckles.

“Come on, you’re going to be late for your flight.”

I clamber out of bed feeling stiff and yes, I am stark naked and feel for what of a better expression absolutely knackered. Yes, that would definitely be from all the sex we’ve been having. I’m too tired as my eyes still droop heavily. Iain is quickly at my side and uses his body as a form of support for me as I lean sleepily against him.

“Not much of a morning person, are you?” A slow, sexy smile forms across those lips that have explored every single part of my body. I’m rendered speechless and feel a bit embarrassed at my nudity. Iain is just as much as naked but he’s just the most beautiful man in the planet anyway so it doesn’t bother him.

I’m actually the one embarrassed for both of us at the moment.

And immediately, I’m now wide awake.

“Don’t over think it, sweetheart.” He says and it slightly peeves me that he can easily read my own thoughts as if I’ve said them out loud. He picks up one of his shirts lying on the floor and puts it on me, giving me one of those salacious, knowing smiles and I automatically tune in to what he’s really thinking as he pulls up a pair of boxers on himself. He grins and softens his rebuke by affectionately rumpling my hair more than it already was with his hand.

“When will you be back from Ohio?” he asks.

“Sunday.” I gaze up at him, drinking him in as I throw my arms around his neck and my fingers twist his just-been-fucked-like-crazy-last-night hair. Pushing my body against his, I kiss him back passionately and it takes him by surprise for a second before he responds with a low groan. His hands slip into my now long, blonde hair, his tongue darting inside my mouth. Just about when I think we’re going to go on at it again, he pulls back, his electric cobalt blue eyes hooded and dark with desire.

“That is going to be without doubt the longest weekend I’ll have to go through without you.” He murmurs.

“Ditto.” I agree, my arms still around his neck. I notice too that he hasn’t released me either and I’m just as reluctant to let him go. I lean against him and rub my nose against his. ��“You know, you can join me.”

Iain chuckles as he playfully twirls my hair with his finger. “I meant what I said when I told you that I trust you to go and visit your friends.”

“But don’t you want to meet my family for Thanksgiving?”I frown at him feeling slightly disappointed.

“I’ve already met your family.” He points out.

“I meant meet them formally as my boyfriend.” I look up at him and he’s gazing at me, his expression nonplussed. He immediately puts his hands on my shoulders and gives them a squeeze as if to reassure me.

“You called me ‘your boyfriend.” He’s grinning ear to ear. Placing his hands on either side of my face, he holds my head for me to stare into those blue orbs. “I like it.” He enunciates each word softly before he leans in and kisses the life out of me as if to seal the deal.

“So do I,” I answer back saucily when he finally lifts his head. “I need to shower.”

“I’ve got a few more calls to make before I go.” Iain lets me go reluctantly and turns as he scrambles around the bed looking for his phone muttering curses in his wake for not being able to find it. I giggle and shake my head at him before heading into the shower. While inside the shower, I recall the last few days that have gone with amusement. He’s been living in and out of the apartment I’ve been sharing with Millet and her brother Mark-Francis that it’s been hilarious having him sneak in and out like a thief. I actually think it’s more like a teenager sneaking in and out like Romeo and Juliet which actually makes it romantic. I once joked about him living here now more often than his own apartment in New York. How he manages to take a helicopter everyday to work is beyond me, but then again for a multibillionaire tycoon, I guess it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

I towel-dry my hair, comb it through I hastily put on a pair of clean lace bra and panties, which I flush thinking that I had bought these at an expensive lingerie store called La Perla, thinking that it might have been more to Iain’s taste. Then again, he pretty much likes me wearing anything….or nothing at all.and quickly grab the clothes I went shopping with Millet. It’s a mustard yellow Anthropologie blouse and grey Missoni A-line skirt. I know my Yale fashion tastes have evolved into something more sophisticated, but I still had to keep a bit of the girly in there. I shake my sinful thoughts away thinking that ever since my relationship with Iain, I’ve been behaving like the Whore of Babylon. Slipping on a pair of my favorite Spectator boots I got from Anthropologie, I straighten my dress and take a deep breath and head out.

Iain’s on the phone with his back facing me, but this time he’s fully dressed in his dark deconstructed Diesel jeans, black and white Mexico 66 Onitsuka Tiger sneakers, a grey puppy tooth patch pocket Paul Smith jacket that’s open at the buttons revealing a printed white shirt that’s got an ironic drawing of President Obama wearing a crown and a huge medallion. His hair is still slightly mussed from last night and I’m completely distracted again recalling those sinful events.

“No, Ron’s missing out the point on what it’s all about. This isn’t just one of those start-ups that come out strong and fold after a few months time. We’ve got our hands full as it is. Call Dylan and tell them to take the offer because after the next few weeks that shit is going to blow over so bad that they’ll be kicking their asses so hard in regret. Yes, the prototype looks good, but somehow I’m not completely sold on the idea. Like there’s something lacking….. I’ll go over it with Sterling and discuss things in the afternoon.” Glancing up, as if he knew I was watching him, his hard expression softens and says “I’ve got to go. Remember to book that charity event on Monday with Miss Lucy Quinn Fabray as my date. Yes, that’s right, Rosalie. Call Andrea from Bergdorfs and have her assist Miss Fabray in getting whatever it is she needs.” He rolls his eyes humorously. “Thank you.” He hands up.

“Hi,” I lean against the door shyly, feeling a bit guilty eavesdropping. It‘s still a wonder that I’m in a relationship with America’s hottest, richest bachelor who’s just as crazy about me as I am him.

“Hi there,” he greets, offering me one of those lazy half-smiles that melts me down to the core.

“Another boring night hobnobbing with the idle rich, I see.” I tease, obviously not really caring as much. The past few months before I rekindled things with Iain, I’ve followed Millet and Mark-Francis around the exclusive bars of Manhattan, meeting various celebrities. Because of my association with Millet, I was a shoe in at one of the most exclusive sororities that has Hilary Clinton as an alumna. I’ve also met a bunch of people whom I’ve only seen on TV who I’ve realized are close, personal friends of my boyfriend. It was daunting at first, but Iain has made it a point to make me feel so comfortable that I’ve forgotten my initial self-consciousness that most of the famous people I’ve been have become a bit of a blur. Lately, I haven’t been too keen on my studies because I’m two weeks behind my classes. Again, blame it on me and the sleepless nights I’ve been having sex with this gorgeous modern day Greek god in front of me, but I really am not that bothered.

“All part of the package, Miss Fabray.” Iain grins lopsidedly as he moves towards me.

“But I’m liking the ‘other’ package much more,” I grin back, feeling all giddy and hot again as I slide my hands across his waist and span his jeans. He laughs as he covers my hands and shakes his head as I frown in dislike.

“Be careful what you wish for unless you want to miss your flight,” he growls as he gives me another one of those meaningful glances. “Speaking of packages, you can still take my jet. I won’t be using it today so it’s at your disposal.”

I gape openly at him. He had offered his personal aviation fleet, but then again, I didn’t feel comfortable using it at the company’s expense.

“Quinn, it’s my company, my jet. Seeing that you keep me sane or sometimes insane, you’re now considered an asset so you don’t have to feel guilty about the whole thing.”

“But I like flying domestic publicly. There’s the falling in line part, arguing with the belligerent airport security, the crying babies during take-off...” I form a bunch of litanies as Iain rolls his eyes and groans helplessly. He looks ready to argue with me, but decides against it.

“Fine, have it your way.” He says. “Do you have your ticket with you?”

“Yup,” I nod towards my bag. He turns around and picks up my weekend luggage. We’re out of the apartment in a few minutes. Millet and Mark-Francis have been out partying all night so it wouldn’t be a surprise that they’re still asleep. I promised to text them as soon as I landed in Ohio. We hop in Iain’s dark grey Porsche Cayenne and drive to the Tweed New-Haven Airport in silence. There are times that I can honestly find peace in just such and Iain doesn’t seem to mind the non-conversation we’re having. He often looks at me from time to time and I respond with a silly grin as if we’re divulging in a secret silent language that nobody else knows but us. He reaches out to sometimes find a way to touch me as if to affirm whatever it was I had just mentally passed at him. As we near the airport, I realize that I booked my flight at La Guardia and look at Iain with a confused expression on my face. He stops the car and waits until I see a tall man with a shock of black hair wearing aviators who saunters towards us.

“Mister Hargreave.” He nods formally as Iain hands him his keys. “Miss Fabray.”

“Hi, Anton!” I wave cheerily.

“Is the Hornet ready?”

“All geared up and ready for take-off, Sir.” Anton replies politely, referring to Iain’s helicopter as he nods in approval. “Martin is waiting at the tarmac.” Even though my boyfriend is thoroughly capable of flying his own plane, Martin St. James is one of the pilots Iain frequently uses whenever he travels. Nice guy, a little taciturn but then again if he’s efficient at his job and keeps Iain safe during every flight, then I don’t mind at all.

“I’m really sorry I won’t be able to bring you to La Guardia myself,” Iain says smoothly as he walks over to my side and leans against the passenger door. “I have an urgent meeting in two hours and need to get home and shower since I’ve been busy the entire evening yet again.” He says purposely, throwing me a meaningful look which makes me blush furiously as I throw Anton a horrid look. The bodyguard seems unaffected and oblivious to us since he’s busy listening to his iPod as Iain opens the door to let me out.

“Will you miss me?” I ask as I step out of the passenger’s seat and climb to the back of the car. Iain grabs the seatbelt and buckles it for me and grins as if enjoying the idea of strapping me into something. He’s so tall that we’re still looking at each other face to face. I desperately want to change the topic since I know I’ll miss him like crazy being away from him for almost four days. These past two weeks, we’ve been inseparable and I try to ignore the hollow feeling of him still not wanting to join me for Thanksgiving. Iain once explained that the Stuarts don’t celebrate Thanksgiving and that he was to join his brother Neil into spending the weekend at the Hamptons with Constance and David, who also happens to be the current Dean of Yale. Chelsea, the boys’ stepsister will also be going and I shudder to think of their great grandmother Genevieve as she also will be joining them.

“More than you’ll know.” He murmurs softly. He looks at the bag beside me and leans over to reach for the scarf I’ve stowed at the handles. He gives me another heart pounding boyish grin and winks as he gently puts the scarf around me and deftly ties it around my neck. Just like that time he did at my senior Prom; my inner Cheerio is doing sky splits. Without warning, he pulls at the knot, making me lean over and we kiss as if it were the last time. Just when I think we’re done and I start to pull away, he gives the knot another firm tug as if he couldn’t break the connection just yet and I sigh with contentment against his lips as I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him for all I’m worth. I’m breathless and flustered when Iain lifts his head, releasing the scarf. I fix my hair and give my ponytail a pat as I’m embarrassed by the show of mauling in front of Anton, who thankfully unaware as he keeps his gaze fixed on the driver’s view ahead. “Next time, you’re taking the jet.”

“Yes, sir!” I give him a mock salute, reigning in my patience even though he’s talking to me as if I were a recalcitrant and not very bright child.

“That’s my girl.” He leans over again and kisses my forehead briefly. He then closes the door and knocks twice loudly, signaling Anton who removes his earplugs and nods in response. As the window pulls up, I look at him longingly as we drive away. He still doesn’t break eye contact until the car disappears from sight.

I arrive in an hour’s time at La Guardia. It’s early to noon and I’ve still got time to kill before lining up at the ticket booth. My parents are thrilled that I’m coming home that they’ve planned a small little gathering for my return. It’s the first time since their divorce that they’ve done anything like this. I yearn to find out how they’re doing. Hell, even what Fran’s been up to, though I doubt she won’t be as thrilled when she finds out what I’ve been sleeping with Iain these days as I recall those times she tried to unsuccessfully seduce him. Ugh, my sister is like such a desperate cougar sometimes it sickens me. I look around at the shops near the airport and figure I should buy some tokens for my friends at New Directions. Thinking that something off Yale would seem a little too elitist, I change my mind and head out to the ticket booth where a bored, chubby man of Asian descent behind the desk holds up his hand without looking at me.

“Ticket please?” he asks as I get a hint of a gay vibe off him. He reminds me so much of the comedian Alec Mapa that I almost stifle a giggle when I realize the uncanny resemblance. I keep a straight face as I hand over my ticket and driver’s license as ID.

The Alec Mapa lookalike appears nonchalant as he types in my name to the screen. His eyes turn into saucers as he now flashes a bright smile at me.

“Miss Fabray, you’ve been upgraded to first class.”

Wait. What? He ignores the incredulous look on my face as he continues on his merry speech which I feel he only reserves for those belonging to the high rollers of the airline. “Ma’am, we have a first class lounge where you can await for your flight. We at United America offer world-class worthy services that you may be interested in before your departure such as spa, massages, and other beauty treatments. Everything has been already paid for in advance and was added as complimentary to your flight. Thank you for flying with us and have a good day.”

Holy guacamole! Did he really just memorize that line?

“I think there’s been a mistake. I booked economy.”

“No Ma’am, no mistake.” He checks the computer screen again and tilts it for me to see for myself as he taps on my name. “Lucy Quinn Fabray – upgraded.” He hands me my new boarding pass and grins expectantly at me as if Santa Claus had just bypassed Thanksgiving and come early for the holidays.

“Next!!” he hollers as I turn around towards the first class lounge and silently lambasting Iain and his meddling.

In the next hour, I’ve had a manicure, a foot massage and a pedicure all the while sipping in a glass of Bollinger champagne. I open my iPad and have been on Face Time with Mark-Francis and Millet who have plied me with questions about my upgraded status.

“Oh darling, that’s so generous of him.” Mark-Francis agrees wholeheartedly. He’s been highly approving of my relationship status with Iain unlike his twin sister who still has yet to warm up to my boyfriend. I guess it’s because she still hasn’t completely forgiven Iain for not telling me who he was when I found out about him on that fateful train ride to Connecticut. I remember crying my eyes out and having her comfort me which I felt was an emotion she wasn’t very used to seeing how she and her brother have lived relatively ridiculously comfortable lives. I didn’t have the pleasure (I meant that in a hilarious, sarcastic sort of way) of meeting her elitist twin much later when I arrived at Yale. “I mean travelling coach. It’s not very chic,” Mark-Francis shakes his head in absolute disgust. “It’s stressful and ugh, the people there at the airports are so ghastly I just want to heave.” When he catches Millet glaring at him he amends. “Except for you darling, of course. We love you.”

“Tell Hargreave we said thanks for lending us his cabin at Aspen.” Millet says reluctantly as this time its Mark-Francis’ turn to glare at his twin. “It was nice…..Of him.”

“Oh, it was absolutely gorgeous. J’adore. ” Mark-Francis gushes as he talks about how he now wants to spend most of his time indoors than partying. For him, partying didn’t involve the hottest nightclubs in Manhattan, it was St. Tropez, Cannes, and most of the South of France that I’ve only read about in luxury travel guides. “It’s like I am so over nightclubs. People pushing and stepping on your feet, standing for prolonged hours with sweat dribbling all over…. Absolutely hideous. It’s not a look at all. I mean people these days don’t value their homes. They don’t spend their nights in when they should because it’s one of the nicest things.”

There was a time when Mark-Francis’ ostentatiously outlandish and snobbish remarks would have intimidated me out of my Lima Ohio small-town girl roots, but somehow nowadays, I’ve come to realize that his comments are mundane and are actually meant as a form of humor….Or so I think anyways. I’m much closer to his twin sister, Millet, who is underneath all that bitchiness and upper class aura is genuinely one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Sure, she can be just as mean and snarky as her brother and make even someone like Santana cry in fear, but I’ve come to realize that she’s actually down to earth and a good friend. After Millet pushes her brother away, we’re alone and we talk about me and Ohio which I feel is a topic which would make her twin roll his eyes at because the thought of Midwest America or anything that doesn’t possess a five star hotel would stress him out of his aura.

“Are you excited to come home?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I take a long sip of the Grande Anne Rose and savor the bubbly goodness. I recall reading it off from 50 Shades of Grey and how much Mark-Francis now hates the drink because it’s become too ‘mainstream’ and blames it on Christian Grey even though he’s a fictional character.

“You don’t sound that psyched at all.”

“It’s just—well, you know with all that’s been going on there, then Iain, and…”

“You getting fucked out of your brains every night for the past two weeks,” Millet smirks knowingly as I gasp in horror, glad that the manicurist is completely oblivious. I duly think maybe it’s either she’s used to such idle chatter or she’s been trained to keep her thoughts to herself. “Oh come on, stop acting like the virginial Christian school girl. The jig is up. You’re a woman now it’s safe to talk about things like this to your friends. Admit it, you love the D.” she breaks into the slang word and giggles uncontrollably in laughter. I reluctantly find myself unable to resist and join in the mirth.

“Well, just his.” I quip and we laugh again. I note that Sheena, the manicurist, is trying to suppress a smile on her face.

“Quinn, tell me you’ll be okay. I mean, I know you’ve been skipping classes and I hope you’re not running home to Ohio to escape?”

I flush. It’s true that I changed majors into Literature. I’m still doing the general subjects routes, most of which have been to be on the same schedule as Mark-Francis and Millet, but I missed out like almost two weeks of classes and exams are just around the corner. I admit that the sexing had been initially to blame, but then there were the parties that Millet and I have been doing, then the events and dates that Iain brings me that I haven’t had much time to sleep or study that I’d wake up at 2 in the afternoon. Plus there was that time when I had gone a-wall in deep depression missing Iain so much that hurt so bad, I’m still lucky that Iain’s great-grandmother hasn’t retracted my scholarship grant. Luckily, I managed to keep my GPA to straight As despite the turmoil.

“No, of course not, don’t be ridiculous Millet. It’s just a phase, okay? I’ll be doing mega crunch time on exam week.”

“I know. It’s just that….” Oh dear Lord, is Millet going to cry? Seriously I used to think that my friend was born without tear ducts because she’s so tough and scary, but lo and behold, her eyes well up in constant worry about my welfare that I’m utterly touched. “I worry about you, okay? You know that if you’re having any trouble with Mr. Moneybags or with anything, you’d tell me right? You can talk to me, I swear I won’t drag Mark-Francis along. I’m here for you and yes, even though I still think Iain is a prick, I won’t piss him off if that’ll make you happy because I know he makes you happy. You deserve to be after all you’ve been through in Lima and I don’t want you to ever forget that. I don’t want you to throw away what you have now. Hell, I wish things would be the same for me and Zac, but you know Hollywood celeb types these days. Promise me, you’ll tell me if something’s wrong, Quinn. I won’t judge. I’ll try to understand. I’m your friend.”

“I know.” I try to blink back the stupid tears that well up in my eyes. “I really love him, Mills. I don’t think I’ve ever been this elated in the longest time.”

“Babes, anyone can see that. He’s madly in love with you. He barely can take his eyes off you and if I may say so myself, when a man has to commute every single bloody day in a helicopter and live in an apartment with Mark and me that takes a helluva lot of commitment. If that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

I laugh uncertainly.

“Has he told you he loves you?” “Yes. He never lets me forget it.”

“I’m really happy for you, Quinn.”

“I’m happy for me too.”

“Don’t screw it up, I mean it. Yale. Your scholarship. Iain.” She glares at me with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, like a gunslinger ready for a gun fight.

“You sound like my mother.” I then hear the announcement that we would be boarding in fifteen minutes time. “Got to go, I’ll talk to you soon okay Mills? Love you lots!” I then end our chat and generously tip Sheena when all is said and done with the pampering. I take in my LV luggage (which I borrowed from Millet) and my newly manicured nails as I breathe in the last of the New York air as I mentally prepare for not just the one hour and forty minute flight, but the longest four days of my life in the last place I thought I wouldn’t miss.

* * *

It feels so good to be home.

I’ve got a minion following me around and worshipping me. I do admit that Kitty doesn’t share my delicate bone structure nor my height, but with a little Quinn Fabray tutorial, I think she can manage. I admit it’s a little bit fun having someone worship the ground you walk on. Almost like my glory days didn’t end with me getting knocked up and that I had just pressed fast forward and gotten crowned Homecoming Queen and that I never gave it to Rachel Berry. I didn’t have the heart to tell Kitty about me dating Iain. He obviously wants to keep our relationship a secret, so I just go around telling people that I’m dating an older, married professor. It sounded much more dramatic in a sinister way because I doubt anyone would ever believe that I’m dating one of the world’s youngest multi-billionaire entrepreneurs who everyone here in McKinley can only recall as being the substitute teacher and once piano player at New Directions.

Actually, a little nagging part of me feels hurt that Iain would rather spend his ‘non-Thanksgiving’ holiday doing boring corporate mergers than with me. I know he trusts me and all, but I get this sinking feeling that he’s holding out on me somehow. You’re asking too much, Fabray. My subconscious glares at me as she leans against one of the school’s lockers as she gives me my signature ‘angry’ look: furrowed brows, pursed lips and hand on hips just like the one I did when I confronted the Puckerman brothers. I felt a compulsion to protect Marley, the shy but gaunt girl that Kitty’s been so concerned of; I get a mental image of myself. Lately, it’s like coming home to a reincarnated version of yourself in people you barely know and it’s creepy.

But what’s more creepy is Kitty’s “What Would Quinn Fabray Do?” poster on her locker. That is just, in Iain’s words, mental.

* * *

Iain

* * *

“Mister Hargreave,” the secretary bends down beside Iain, her voice lowered to avoid disturbing the other men present seated at the conference room as they were currently discussing an international trade agreement. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but there’s a phone call for you...”

Iain turns his head and nods as his face betraying none of the alarm he felt over the interruption. “Who’s on the line?”

The secretary shook her head in trepidation. “H-h-he wouldn’t say, but he says it’s very important and tentative that you take the call.”

The other men present looked visibly irritated and with obvious reason. They were in the middle of a heated discussion of mergers between companies and Iain was presently acting as a consultant for the two of the world famous firms dealing with software while the other was a European car company. The current president of Loewe motors waves his hand hurriedly to dismiss Iain and he nods as he slides his chair back. The secretary showed him to a private room and Iain snatched up the telephone.

“Hargreave.” He answers.

“Greetings from Lima, Ohio.” A male voice drawls mockingly at the other end.

“Who’s this?”

“Iain, I can’t begin to thank you for helping me out with my pool business in LA. The connections you’ve given me have been a tremendous benefit.” Noah Puckerman says dryly. “Not to mention that contract stint with the Playboy Mansion where l got to meet and hook up with the hottest bunch of Bunnies ain’t half that bad.”

“Puckerman,” Iain’s voice had gone flat and deadly. “What do you want?”

“Oh, just wanted to give you a heads up on your girlfriend. I mean, that is Quinn Fabray, right? I’ve seen the lovely pics of you two on Google looking oh so right and tight…….or so that’s what I thought I saw---“ “You have a lot of fucking nerve, boy.” Iain snarls furiously. “Stay away from her or I swear I’ll—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, relax Romeo. That Quick ship has sailed. You’re far more than welcome to have all the loopy drama our dear girl is so well known for. I do admit she’s gotten hotter somehow over the past few months, but I guess that’s with all the---“

“I’m hanging up now.” Iain announced coldly.

“Alright, I’m going to say what I have to, but you better be listening real good, pretty boy, because I’m going to say this once.”

Iain slammed the phone back into the cradle after what Puck had recounted was Quinn’s latest shenanigans in Ohio. By the time he returned, the people present in the conference room looked at him with a mixture of polite concern and accusation. Iain sat down and continued with the proceedings. He tried to concentrate on the business on hand, but it was failing miserably. He was annoyed. He was so deeply pissed off to the point he accidentally knocked off someone’s glass of water when he moved his hand. He swore a mouthful as one of the secretaries huddled taking a tissue and hurriedly wiped it spewing an apology on his behalf.

The meeting finally adjourned at eight o’clock in the evening, when dinner was over, Iain excused himself and went up to his suite. He shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie as he walked over to the built-in bar and fixed himself a drink. He sat alone in the counter, deep in thought thinking of what Puckerman had just told him.

“She’s acting out,” Puck said tersely. “Quinn has gotten herself a minion and has this thing in her head that she’s the Queen Bee mentoring this girl into making this other girl’s life a living hell. She’s gotten into a slapping contest with Santana and thinks my half-brother is the spawn of Satan. Not that that should probably bother you but would you believe the stuff that she’s been telling everyone what she’s been doing at Yale? Did she ever tell you that she’s been busy rubbing elbows with Jodi Foster, Hilary Clinton and some defunct 80’s movie starlet? I just thought that you might be concerned because she’s telling everyone that she’s dating a married 35 year old psych professor who hasn’t been doing the deed with his wife for three years. I don’t know about you, pretty boy, and although this pains me to tell you this but you’re not old or stodgy enough to be a creepy pedophile professor because you’re too busy running that badass company and I highly doubt you’ve got some wife hidden away in a cellar unless of course you’re Bluebeard or something.”

Iain takes a long swig of his drink and narrows his eyes.

“If you really, and I mean really give a shit about her. You’d come to Lima for her and set her straight.”

Iain cursed and stalked off the lounge chair his drink on one hand and moved to the massive windows of his suite as he gazed at the Seattle skyline. There was something about looking afar at bright city lights that brought him comfort, but as of the moment it was doing nothing to soothe his tormented brain.

Puck was right. Quinn was indeed acting out. He suspected that Genevieve knew about her joining that bloody sorority but refused to confide in him. He felt responsible and blanched at the thought of her self-destructive behavior. If word got out about her spreading lies about her and some professor (there were a dozen of men in the entire campus who fit the profile but Iain had done his research and none of them had a class with Quinn nor had been spotted with her), or if were indeed true, she would be completely ruined and would royally fuck up her freshman year at Yale and that was his fault. He thought that she needed time to think things through, time to grow up, but what he didn’t realize that what she needed was neither.

Quinn Fabray needed him.

And he told her that he trusted her to go on about it by herself.

God, he felt like a fucking idiot for letting her go.

He also felt that no matter how much alcohol he was taking now, it was going to make him incredibly sleepy and he knew that he couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled out his iPhone and dialed a number.

“Mister Hargreave?” Martin St. James’ voice is on the other line.

“How soon can Delta fly?” Iain is referring to his newly acquired Bombardier Global Express XRS jet, the same one he offered to that frustrating blonde girl he couldn’t get off his mind.

“She’s all fueled up and ready to go, sir. The crew can be ready and leave Tacoma in an hour’s time.”

“Good. Set your coordinates and be ready to fly to Ohio tonight.” was all Iain said as he kills the phone. He then dials another number.

“Rosalie, book me a suite up at any of the best hotels in Lima Ohio.” He breathes in a long sigh of frustration at his secretary’s obtuseness. “Yes, Lima, Ohio in six hours time. I’ll be staying over for Thanksgiving.”

* * *

Quinn

***

Could this day get any worse?

Fine, I admit it was a bit fun seeing the guys all over again but seriously, it does reach to a zenith.

I honestly cannot wait to come home. Just a few more hours and we’ll be out of here.

I just have to get through the most awkward Thanksgiving in history with Mom and her new boyfriend the Reverend, Dad and Angelina Jo-hoe-lie and Fran. Actually, I don’t remember Fran mentioning ever bringing a guest home but chances are, she’ll probably drag some attractive poor dumb fellow off the street. If it were anything else, this holiday already sucks.

I’ve been e-mailling Millet and how she and Mark-Francis have decided to do an impromptu visit to Manhattan and already part of me is wishing I had used that damn ticket Rachel Berry gave me so I could meet up with them. I wouldn’t pay her a visit or anything, just drop by and see how she and Kurt are doing, no doubt I’m not really interested in going to that Meat Packing District house they now call home. Although I admit that it would be fun to see the drag queens and not just Kurt.

Seriously, I cannot wait to get home.

I just realized that I had called Connecticut home, not Lima.

I’m a bit worried about Iain. He emails me regularly and we do get on Face Time. Since we’ve been dating, he’s bought me the latest iPhone and since last night, I haven’t heard from him. I console myself into thinking that maybe he’s just tuckered out from that boring merge between Samsung and some European automobile company.

The last time I heard was that his company was thinking of making a prototype car that was designed to change the world. I give off a half-smile thinking of how excited Iain was about the whole thing. He didn’t want to bore me with the details, but he said that if the merge comes successfully, we could be looking at the first concept car that doesn’t require gasoline, but runs efficiently on electricity and sunlight. He could have said that if the car could run on water, I’d be impressed as well. I’m starting to miss him already. I give him a ring again but it just goes down to voice mail. Even singing that number with Santana and Britney the other day made me even think of Iain like crazy. I had Sugar take a video of it and thought about sending to him because while I was singing and dancing, all I was thinking was him, hoping he would change his mind and come see about me. It was like “Come See About Me” was me and Iain. I even had this idea that maybe it’d change his mind and have him come home and spent Thanksgiving with us.

Then I thought about the spat I had with Santana yesterday. It began with her accusing Kitty of giving Marley laxatives and somewhere along the way, it escalated into a slapping session. Britney had just broken up the fight and I’ve just stepped out still fuming mad. I shouldn’t have exaggerated about the professor, it was far from the truth. Yes, there was a psychology professor in Yale who was 35 years old and smoked a pipe, but the reason why his wife didn’t touch him for three years was because he was caught with his pants down doing the beasts with two backs with the star quarterback in his office. It was one of the biggest open secrets in Yale, and why I thought to use him was just another stroke of impromptu creative spark that I had picked up during a creative writing session. I would have been proud of myself of telling an elaborate tale, but right now I feel sick to the stomach. I couldn’t explain why I had felt the need to play the bad girl. It was like being around Kitty had just given me a jolt of pure power that I felt I was back in high school again wearing my Cheerios uniform and tying my hair in a high pony as if I never got pregnant and ended up staying with New Directions.

The next day the whole Slapping Santana fiasco is forgotten and everyone is busy with the preparations of sectionals. I miss the whole excitement, it’s almost like how psyched I used to get before every cheer dance. Finn calls on everyone for a show circle as we all gather around. I try as hard not to look at Santana and she pretty much avoids me as well. A part of me feels terrible for fibbing but then again the stubborn side of me stays put and shuts up her mouth. As Finn drones on about, I look upon the excited faces of the new team, wondering in awe how much similar and different they were from me and the original New Directions. I start making mental notes and comparisons all the while sending a prayer that they do well and win because at the end of the day, my glory days in high school are over and the torch has been passed to them. And I couldn’t think of a better bunch who deserve it as much as we did. I position myself next to Artie and I actually find myself missing his company. He was a pretty good friend who never took advantage of my situation behind the wheelchair. He’s a pretty cool dude and someday, maybe I could give a good word to Iain that he might consider helping Artie out someday.

Oh wow, I really do miss Iain. I look at what I’m wearing and it’s a white dress with red petals. I got this from an exclusive sample sale at Oscar Dela Renta thinking I was like Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City. I rarely got to wear this dress and for the first time I had actually more than wanted nothing more but to call Iain and tell him that I wanted to go back to New York and spend their non-Thanksgiving holiday at the Hamptons. As soon as we finish with our group high fives and everyone scrambles out of the hallway, Marley passes through me looking as pale as a ghost. Her eyes seem a little bugged out and catatonic and I know with a sense of dread that perhaps Santana’s accusations about Kitty turning the poor girl bulimic were true. I knew that look on her face. I’ve seen it on Mercedes when she tried losing weight as a Cheerio and before Beth, I had also been that girl. I shake my head and as I’m about the approach Kitty and confront about the Marley issue, I stop dead on my tracks as I watch Iain walking toward s me with a fierce glower. He looks furious.

Holy shit!

I must be imagining things. Yes, this is an illusion.

Then another thing distracts me. Iain isn’t wearing his usual wardrobe of shirts and blazers. Instead, he’s casually dressed in a Lacoste Navy green and white stripe pique Polo shirt, cream colored linen pants, and beat up canvas and suede free floating tongue TNT 5 skate shoes by Vans that my heart starts pounding like a clattered engine. He looks younger than the brightly ambitious twenty-something billionaire tycoon whom I’ve seen around in expensive custom-made Armani or suits he gets from Saville Row. In fact, today in that outfit, he could almost pass off as a high school senior. He’s also clean shaven and I’ve noticed the new girls: Marley, Unique and especially Kitty with that “Who is THAT?” look on their faces and I want to reply “He’s mine, bitches so back off.”

But instead, I watch open-mouthed thinking that if things were different, if he was a senior at McKinley High, I would be dating him, not Finn. I would have never cheated on him with Puck, and I would have never even considered being with Sam. If things were different, I would have given my virginity to him and if I did end up pregnant, I knew just knew that Iain would have done everything in his power to have raised that child with me and I would have never given Beth up. I also then imagined what it would have been like if Iain was a student at McKinley but that was just close to impossible. I envision him being the captain of the soccer team and whatever struggles he faced forming a team because Lima isn’t exactly warmed up to the idea of playing the European sport, I would have been there to support him head on. And because I know Iain’s reading off these exact thoughts running through my highly imaginative mind, his frown intensifies. I notice his masseter muscles throbbing and I know he’s pissed about something fierce. My head is swimming and I’m thinking of running to the other side when his even, deadly calm voice stops me.

“Quinn.”

“Iain,” I respond in the same deadpan tone as I ignore Kitty looking fascinated at Iain wondering who the hell he was.

“So is it true?”

Before I let him say another word I give him a pleading look. “Not now, please, Iain? Not here.” I murmur feeling my skin grow from pallid to now ashen. Please, please, can I die now?

“Wow, you are gorgeous.” Kitty spurts the words out as she gives Iain one of those seducing winks I’ve taught her and I groan when Iain spares her a glance then looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhm, Kitty this is Iain.” I give out the introductions hurriedly with a quick wave of my head. Kitty looks expectedly at Iain, hoping that he gives her his attention, but right now his gaze is deadlocked with mine and doesn’t dare waver.

“W-w-what are you doing here? I thought you trusted me.”

“I did, that was until I heard what you’ve been up to I decided you needed an intervention.” He’s staring down at me with his face carefully composed, giving nothing away. I look at Kitty who is suspiciously eyeing both of us with intense curiosity. What the hell has gotten into him? He sounds like a middle-aged man scolding me like an errant child. Part of me wants to yell and speak out my mind and for once I actually listen to Impulsive Quinn.

“Stop treating me like a child!!” I cry out and wring my hands in frustration. The entire hall turns quiet and I can already feel like as if we’re already causing a scene.

“Have you been acting like an adult?” Iain asks calmly. I peek at him and find that he looks more disappointed than irate. He walks closer to me and stops just when we’re almost close to touching, he sticks his hands in his pockets and looks at me levelly.

“Oh. My. God, you’re dating your Baby sitter!” Santana steps out and does a catwalk down the hall as she moves in towards us as she drawls out the obvious except what she doesn’t know is that Iain only posed as that so he could find Neil. She also doesn’t know that Iain is filthy rich and actually was the creator of one of the apps found on Santana’s Blackberry…..and everyone else’s iPhone.

“Nice seeing you too, Santana.” Iain greets curtly as he acknowledges her presence with a brief nod. She gets the picture and takes on Iain’s cue as she offers a benevolent smile towards Kitty.

“You see, Kitty. Is this the girl you look up to and want to become some day? Someone who comes back home and tells everyone how perfect her little life is in a fancy Ivy League and that she’s dating this older, sophisticated, married man but in reality she’s messing around with the help?” She emphasizes on the word ‘help’ big time. Iain doesn’t correct her, in fact he looks just as cool as a cucumber as if he hadn’t heard her insult him.

“I also used to be a substitute teacher,” Iain adds cheerfully as if he enjoys inflicting pain towards Kitty’s already mortified reaction. “And subbed for Brad, the pianist. You’ve probably met him, the quiet, boring guy wearing glasses with the unkempt facial hair who likes to sit around and tinker with black and white keys? I idolize the man and someday hope to be….Just. Like. Him.” He enunciates the last three words and then gives Kitty a slow wink as I watch the poor girl screams in terror and runs for the hills. Santana chuckles in the ingenious move.

“I always knew that there was something going on between you two,” Santana murmured as she pats Iain’s shoulder affectionately. “Ok, carry on. And you’re welcome.” She gives both of us a knowing wink as she sashays her way down the hall.

“Are you happy now?” I glare at Iain who looks as if he could care less. I instead focus my gaze back at my hands because right now I just want to ring them around his neck.

“Absolutely fucking ecstatic.” Iain answers dryly but I can hear the sarcasm dripping down like a leaky faucet. “Being a mentor to a psychotic teenaged brat who screams Single White Female isn’t exactly your scene anyway.”

“Who told you that?”

“Puck. So cut the drama and let’s get out of here because I believe that there are some things that we need to say, but I prefer to have it done in private.” He gently grabs my arm and is about to lead me when I stay firmly in my place and shake my head.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“No? Would you prefer I haul you up against my shoulder instead?” Iain’s voice remains calm but I can tell that there’s an underlying fury beneath that cold, detached façade he’s carrying. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t push me, Quinn.” Iain’s voice is menacingly soft. “I’ve had less than two hours sleep and missed out on a chance to witness an important golf match between Bill Gates and the President of Samsung who happens to possess a terrible handicap.”

Oh, so that explains the Caddy boy outfit. He looks great in anything anyway but right now I’m just so angry at him that I don’t forget myself this time.

“No,” I state stubbornly, I have to make a stand. He can’t just prance around acting like he’s right and I’m wrong all the time. He doesn’t have the right to control my life nor does he have to dictate how I should live it.

“Take it or leave it, Lucy Quinn. We are leaving. Now.” He calls me by my given names when he’s dead serious about something.

“No,” I scowl at him.

He raises his black eyebrows at me.

“No?”

He then half smiles at me, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Iain this is ridi—“ the words escape my mouth as he abruptly sweeps down grabs me around my thighs and lifts me easily against his shoulder as if I weighed close to nothing.

“Put me down right this instant!” I scream. It is absolutely good to scream and I could care less about the look of shock on the faces plastered on the entire New Directions team. I can see the Puckerman brothers looking on then glancing at each other with a smirk on their lips. Finn just looks on but seems unperturbed. Sam pretty much has the same nonchalant expression and Joe, well I don’t know. He just looks on giving me a sympathetic shrug, but I know he’s terrified of my boyfriend to ever butt in. Iain starts striding down the hall, ignoring me as I attempt to roll myself off, shouting for assistance but sadly even that just go on deaf ears. He swats my behind with his free hand for added effect and I stop squirming and prop my face on my hands.

Iain saunters down the hall and makes a turn for one of the emergency exits that leads into the parking lot. He kicks the door behind him and I’m glad he’s careful enough that the door doesn’t slam on my face. He easily lets me down and pushes me gently against the wall and seizes my shoulders, pinning me effectively so I don’t move.

I don’t even dare move because I'm shaking with fury. Instead of pushing his hands away I glare at him, but it’s a puny attempt.

“Who’s acting like the adult now?”

Underneath the warm blue brilliant Ohio sky, Iain releases his hands off my shoulders and throws his head back and gives out a crack of laughter. I’m too preoccupied seething in my recent embarrassed hauled-like-a-sack-of-potatoes scene that I don’t find myself laughing along with him. Instead I put my hands on my hips and give a frown when Iain quickly notices that I’m still upset, he sobers a little.

“You just bring out the best in me.”

“Oh that was definitely cave man behavior right there, Hargreave.”

“My primitive instincts kick in when they concern you,” he says dryly. “You haven’t answered my question.”

I know he meant about my so-called relationship with the professor. Every part of his body radiates tension and I could hear the panic behind his voice. My eyebrows furrow in confusion and sadness when I realize that this must have been the reason why he came all this way to Ohio. “No, it’s not true.” I watch how he visibly relaxes and looks at me questioningly. “You know it isn’t true because you’ve been the only one since Puck who has….you know, uhm…..” My voice trails and I feel the heat of the blush reaching up my face. This is so embarrassing. To admit that he’s been the one person I’ve ever made love to, Puck doesn’t count since I was drunk. Iain’s expression softens and he looks vaguely amused at my attempt to vocalize about our sex life.

“So why did you say those things then?” He whispers and I get this feeling that he thinks it’s because I’m embarrassed to admit our relationship that I respond by shaking my head. He gives a half ghost of a smile as if acknowledging that my transgressions had nothing to do with him. Hasn’t he realized that he’s the best thing I’ve got in my life and I didn’t want that part to linger here in Lima?

“I did it because Santana pushed me. She accused Kitty of giving that brunette Marley laxatives and I thought it was because she was jealous of me.” “That girl is just bad news,” Iain mutters shaking his head. I don’t answer him, but somehow I get the feeling that he’s right about Kitty. “So, what do you make of it now?”

Iain’s question takes me by surprise. It’s one of those firsts where he actually asks my opinion about something that doesn’t even concerns us. I take a moment to reflect and ponder on Marley. She reminds me of a frightened little bunny rabbit. She’s fragile, vulnerable, and looked about to be on the verge of tears whenever Finn mentioned about looking great on stage. I didn’t know her personally but from what I gathered from Kitty, other than her dating the Puckerman boy, her mother was the lunch lady and looked to be the next candidate for The Biggest Loser. Add that to the mix made her quite the oddball in McKinley. However, unlike Rachel Berry who was filled with a good sense of self-delusion, this one actually cared what others thought about her. For once, it was one of those qualities about Rachel that irked me because she was a strong girl who could give a toss because she had hopes and aspirations of moving out of Lima and making something out of herself. No, Marley didn’t have that fighting streak in her. In fact, she was a lot similar to someone I once knew and hated for the longest time.

Lucy Caboosey.

“I think Santana may be right about Marley being bulimic. But Kitty? I just…”

“Open you eyes, Quinn,” Iain encourages gently. “This isn’t high school anymore. You’re no longer that snarky little girl who picked on Rachel Berry and wanted to date the star quarterback so you could win the Homecoming title. You don’t have to feel guilty about it, that’s all in the past. Didn’t you notice the way Kitty was looking at Marley when you found me at the hallway? And by the way she just threw herself at me as if staking a claim?”

I swallow and nod, digesting everything Iain says. I did notice Kitty sometimes throw envious looks at Marley, especially whenever she was with Puck’s younger brother. I was too distracted by Iain to notice how possessive Kitty was around him that she had actually thrown the same expression. I don’t know much about Kitty Wilde. In fact, the girl has been blabbering on and on about how much she idolized me that I didn’t really know if she was truly genuine because while she had been singing my praises, she never at least once revealed anything about herself and her character. I had been her once, but somehow I knew that a huge part of me related to Marley with her insecurities. Kitty apparently had a backbone. I also recalled the sneer on her face when Iain tossed me over his shoulder, almost as if she had disapproved of me because of my relationship with Iain as she had mistakingly thought of him as hired help.

“You’re right,” I agree. “Kitty is one terrible little bitch. So what can I do about it?”

“Well, you can start by telling Santana that you believe her.” He cocks his head to the side as he looks at me. “I may never understand the friendship you have with her, but I think Santana’s a good person that she does give a shit about Marley’s condition.”

“Is that the reason why you came all the way here? Because you thought I slept with a married professor and you were worried about some girl you barely know?”

“I came here because I know you needed me and I felt ……guilty when I rejected your offer to spend Thanksgiving with your family. I realize now that it is important to you. Therefore, it should have mattered.”

I look at him wordlessly. So this is it. Iain’s half-given apology and admittance that he was in the wrong was what brought him here. But somehow it doesn’t explain why he looked concerned especially for Marley’s sake. There was something here I wasn’t picking up on yet. Then I recalled the story of why Genevieve separated Iain from his mother. She didn’t exactly spell everything out, and this was my chance to finally get a glimpse of it. Go on, my subconscious urges as my inner Cheerio and Queen Bee both nod in unison, ask him. But the thing is, I could but I don’t because I know he isn’t ready to open that painful part of his past just yet.

“It does because the last time I invited a boy for dinner, he sang to my parents about standing by my pregnancy and my father threw me out of the house.” My voice goes hoarse with emotion and my throat starts to ache as I try to choke back the tears that start welling up. I hear a breath of intake from Iain and his eyes widen with an emotion that I can’t quite comprehend. He understands, but he also looks furious about something. He says nothing but wraps his arms around me and I fold as I take in his warm embrace. I rest my head against his chest, inhaling the scent of him mixed with his aftershave, thinking how much I missed him, and letting it comfort me.

The truth is, my being thrown out of Casa de Fabray isn’t that bad….well, not anymore anyway. It used to hurt, but somehow it all feels like a distant memory. I lean into his muscular frame, taking in the strength as he buries his face in my hair taking in as much of me as I did him. We’re silent for the longest time and I know he’s doing this to comfort me but I feel as if it’s more on his behalf. We stay like this for a little while longer when he suddenly breaks his silence.

“It seems that I might have delayed us from joining your friends on their pilgrimage to Sectionals.”

“We can definitely catch up,” I say as I remind him that I brought my car.

“You’re driving again?”

“How else was I supposed to get here?” I ask, but note that his eyes narrow when I mentioned that I was driving again.

“Point taken,” Iain says grimly. “Next time, I’m adding chauffer driven car to your incentives.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “Incentives? Another part of your Iain Hargreave package?”

His mouth quirks in a half smirk. “Consider it a bonus. Or rather a compensation for my indiscretion earlier.”

“Are we pertaining to the ‘haul Quinn’s ass up my shoulder’ incident?”

“Oh no, that was payback for letting me worry about you.”

“That was Puck’s fault! He was the one who ratted on me.”

“Yes, well be glad that he did otherwise I would have been miserable in the Hamptons thinking only about you.”

“That is quite an outfit you’re wearing, Hargreave. Do you know what I was thinking about when I first saw you in this?” I tug playfully at his Lacoste polo shirt as he grins and shakes his head. “I was thinking that you look young to pass out as a senior here. And if things were different and this was high school, I would’ve fallen in love with you. I wouldn’t ever have dated Finn nor would have cheated on you with Puck. I would’ve given you my virginity and if we had gotten pregnant, I knew you would have been there to support me.”

“You bet the hell I would have. I also would have thrown your father’s ass out of your house before he had a chance to throw you out.” Iain answers flatly.

“That’s my father you’re talking about.” I throw him a mortified look.

Iain shakes his head, he still looks furious about the whole thing. “And it was an irresponsible thing for him to do. What kind of a man throws out his daughter to ‘save face’ because she made an error in judgment? You needed your family’s support and it was denied from you when it mattered.” He tilts his head and looks at me earnestly as his hands thread through my hair, sifting through the soft strands. “But there’s no use in wishing for things that’s already happened. You made it through and it’s that quality in you is what makes me in awe of you. I always thought of you as strong and that you could do things without me because I feared that it would suffocate you.” He whispers as his hands suddenly cradle my face, his eyes so tender that I lean against the warmth of his touch.

Now it’s my turn to shake my head. “That’s where you’re wrong,” I whispered. “I’ll always need you.”

Suddenly, everything else fell away. Everything else ceased to exist. Sudden hot tears brim from my eyes as Iain crushes me against his chest.

“I’ve realized lately that I need you just as much because I love you,” he says before he leans over and we were about to kiss when we were interrupted with the voices coming from the door as it swings open. I jump in surprise and Iain glowers at ‘our audience’ which pretty much was the entire New Directions group.

“Do you two ever get tired of making out?” Santana asks irritably, but I can detect a lack of acid in her voice. “Because we kinda need a ride since Finn couldn’t rent out a school bus.” Their grins were infectious because Iain found his first grin for that day.

“Sure, we can do better than that.” Iain fishes out his car keys and presses a button. A car behind us makes a resounding alarm.

“THAT’s yours?” Kitty’s eyes bug out at the silver Audi 4 door convertible. Her jaw is literally hanging open as she looks stupefied at the possibility that Iain’s filthy rich.

“Yep,” Iain throws in the key at Mike’s direction. “Try not to scratch it, Chang.”

“Deal,” he smiles ecstatically as Mercedes calls in shotgun while Puck ambles in at the backseat.

“You weren’t just Quinn’s babysitter were you?” Santana asks. I give her a half smile and she catches it and nods, acknowledging our truce. “What is it that you do?”

“I’m her boyfriend.” he says simply, his lips brushing against the top of my head.

* * *

We arrive just in time as the announcer presents the judges. The crowd’s bustling with excitement and it feels strange not only because I’m now part of the audience, but also because I’m just a bunch of nerves. I guess I’ll never get tired of the feeling especially for this new group of New Directions. As Puck, Santana, Mercedes and Mike take their cued seats and find that we’re lacking, I motion to another empty space where Iain and I settle in a few rows behind the group. I give his hand a squeeze in excitement and he turns and grins back as he returns the squeeze.

The Dalton Academy Warblers are first. Surprisingly, it isn’t Sebastian taking in the rein but this new guy whom I’ve never recognized from last year. He’s weird in an evil James Bond villain kind of way but it also takes me in by surprise that the Warblers have improved tremendously.

“I bet you must have been cute wearing a Prep boy’s school uniform.” I find myself leaning over and whispering that comment in his ear.

He shrugs and throws me a sideways glance. “My jacket would’ve looked thrice better on you than it did me.”

“Is that so?” I ask mischievously, my inner Cheerio is hugging herself happily. The Warblers move on to their second song and I happen to notice that Sebastian is frequently looking our way. He dances a little more enthusiastically than usual and is smiling and giving subliminal winks, more centered towards Iain’s oblivious direction. I frown and grab my boyfriend’s arm possessively. Iain turns and throws me a concerned look as I hastily explain about Kurt’s nemesis.

“That’s Sebastian. He’s gay and I think he’s into to you.”

“What? That’s crazy.” He looks quickly at Sebastian, who notices the attention and this time is grinning like the Cheshire Cat that anytime soon, he’s about to do backflips like his Evil James Bond Villain co-Warbler. Iain turns back his attention to me and I flush happily knowing that I know who he’ll always belong to.

“I mean, he’s like really crazy. In an evil Cruel Intentions meets Dangerous Liaisons kind of way. “

“Quelle dommage pour il because I’m not interested. We both know I don’t swing that way.”

“So which direction do you swing?” I teased as I take in that irrepressible unruly lock of dark brown black hair of his that just never stays in place. I reach out and attempt to fix it.

“Yours.”

Aww, he always says the cutest things.

I reward him by throwing my arms around him and give him a kiss that’s both possessive, tender, and with a need that makes him respond equally just when the whole crowd is shouting with excitement now that the song is over, but neither of us care. I open my eyes and glance at Sebastian who tries to cover his disappointment by smiling a little too brightly. I can also hear chuckles and guffaws behind us and we hastily break off. I’m flustered and try to fix an imaginary misplaced strand of hair as Iain throws his arm around me and pulls me closer towards him as we watch the next act. It’s a group of Amish students from Rosedale, and I instantly recognize that they pose no threat to the New Directions. I grin amusedly and find myself laughing and clapping along to “She’ll be Coming Round the Mountain”.

“Remind me to accompany you more often to events like these,” he says as he gives off one of those knee knocking boyish smiles. “I haven’t seen you this carefree.”

“I wasn’t like this before,” I admit and give another huge round of applause when the group ends their number. “Not until you.”

Iain is about to say more when the announcer then mentions the New Directions are up next. The whole crowd cheers on as I do and they burst in a myriad of black and gold singing to the Korean pop song Gangnam Style. Tina does an impressive job and I could tell that Puck’s younger brother has got moves rivaling those of Mike Chang’s. Iain raises an eyebrow in surprise as I’ve never even mentioned the number that they’re performing. I smile proudly watching Kitty give one of the old geezers my signature “come hither” wink and I know these guys have got it in the bag. The boys rip out the confetti and the crowd just goes insane.

That is until the climatic end when Marley faints.

* * *

Marley ***

It’s my entire fault.

We lost no thanks to me.

Everyone has pretty much left, Jake tried to offer me a ride home but I felt as if I didn’t deserve even his sympathy. I know my Mom’s worried about me and it was a miracle that I wasn’t brought in the hospital from my fainting spell. I sit alone in the steps trying to block out the things that went on by but it’s no use. My eyes well up in tears and sniffling again I bend my head and close my eyes tightly praying that this was just a bad dream and that I would wake up eventually.

I open my eyes but with a sinking feeling that I am not dreaming. I resort again to crying with heartbroken gulps when a voice--- deep, rich, distinctly male filled with quiet authority tinged with sympathy speaks to me. “Marley, right?” I nod as he approaches me, his steps assured with a confidence rarely found in a guy his age. I’m guessing that he’s probably in his early twenties as he’s wearing an expensive Lacoste polo shirt, white linen pants and beat up black gray vans that make him look like he had just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren catalog. In fact, he looked even better than most male models I’ve seen at the ads. I gulp back thinking that he probably even has the muscle for it and I look away before he sees me blush thinking of his bronzed tanned chest and six pack abs underneath that shirt.

“Can I sit beside you?”

Shock sends me surging to my feet but because I’m too weak it just reaches my throat. I nod wordlessly as the handsome young man sits beside me. He’s tall, around six foot two inches with a shock of dark black brown hair and piercing blue eyes that makes me even more uncomfortable and self-conscious than ever. He raises his arm slowly and offers me a scarlet red handkerchief that looks soft, and made out of the finest silk. “T-thank you,” I whisper reverently taking the billowing thing from his fine, tanned masculine and well manicured hand and offer him a teary smile of gratitude as I dab it at my eyes. Not certain of what to do or what was expected I hold it out to him.

He smiles as he shakes his head and waves an air of dismissal. “Keep it.”

“Thanks.”

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” The man asks, and I note for the first time that though I know he’s American, he speaks with a slight accent, but I couldn’t tell if it’s British but there’s something distinct about the way he pronounces the words like want as “wont” and talk as “tawk” that makes me start to wonder where he grew up. I then realize that this was the same guy who came in McKinley and hauled Quinn Fabray up against his shoulder like an angry primal Greek God. He even has the handsome features of one.

As I look closer, although he casually dressed, he’s slightly older than I thought, probably close to twenty five but the smile he’s wearing on his face now makes him look younger in a ridiculously good looking boyish quality that most guys his age and younger could never pull off. Also, he sounds more sophisticated and worldly to be just the housekeeper that Santana assumes he was earlier. Plus the fact that he had come by school earlier driving an expensive top down convertible sports car was more of a slap on Kitty’s face as she had been openly drooling at the sight of him the moment he stepped in the halls of McKinley High. But another nagging thought bothers me: why is he alone wasting his time talking to me and not spending it kissing Quinn like he did when they thought they were alone outside the school’s yard?

“You’re Quinn’s boyfriend.” I say because I’m too shy to voice out my opinion and to question why he’s here and not with his beautiful, blonde girlfriend.

“Call me Iain. How are you feeling?”

“Like crap. I just blew our chances at Sectionals.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “There’s always next year,” then he hunkers down closer as if to divulge a secret and looks sideways to see if anyone’s listening in. “Just between you and me, I don’t think the New Directions would’ve won favors singing a song that nobody honestly understands except if you’re Korean which unfortunately none of the judges were. Well maybe except for that obituary guy, he looks old enough to have survived the First World War.”

In spite of myself, I giggle. It’s the first time I’ve been able to relax in the past few days. I’m tired and haven’t had sleep and feel weak. I know I’m supposed to feel totally conscious about getting attention especially from some guy who could give any Hollywood A-list heartthrob actor a run for his money in the looks department, but somehow because Iain doesn’t belong in McKinley nor is he a part of the New Directions it makes me think of something else other than my recent muck. I relax a little and find myself doubling over in hilarity, but when I do I feel lightheaded again and Iain quickly steadies me until I signal him to let me go. He nods curtly and searches for something in his pocket.

“Here, have this.” He hands me a tiny gold sachet shaped like a bottle which he breaks the top first before I take it.

“It’s an energy gel,” he explains patiently when he notices my confused expression. “I use it whenever I do long distance runs and can’t eat anything. It won’t taste as bad unlike most because its chocolate flavored. Trust me, Marley you need one now because you look like you’re about to keel over again anytime.

I hesitate for a second but shrug and follow through. Iain was right about it tasting good. I take in the chocolate goodness as I hungrily swallow and consume the entire contents. At least my stomach has ceased its grumbling. I feel a bit peppier now and throw him a grateful glance.

“Why are you being so nice? You hardly know me. Quinn’s probably looking over for you.” “She’s busy lecturing her protégé.” Iain answers, however I get this feeling that he won’t tell me that his girlfriend is probably give Kitty hell now because he knows it isn’t any of his business and he’s far too much of a gentleman to admit it anyway. “I’m not doing this to be nice, Marley. You just…….remind me of someone.”

“Who?”

“My mother. You don’t look like her, but you have a certain quality in your eyes that remind me of her. Hers was big blue and kind just like yours.”

I note with alarm that Iain’s speaking in the past tense. Before I ask him more he hastily explains. “She died from cancer, it was a long time ago. But that’s not the only thing you have in common with my mother. She also made herself sick by throwing up whatever she ate.”

“Iain, I never—“

“Don’t lie to me,” Iain snaps and I flinch at the tone of his voice. It was clipped, authoritative, with an obvious contemptuous superiority that makes me feel antagonized and humiliated. Iain notices my reaction and he amends by grimacing as tilts his head slightly as if to apologize and softens his voice. “What I meant was I know that you do Marley. Look at your hands. I’m guessing you’re also right handed because there are chips on your index and middle fingernails and they’re also a shade darker than your other nails because that’s from the acid that’s regurgitated from your throat. Also because of that acid that’s been passing through your throat, you might have noticed that your voice isn’t what it used to be, it’s probably gone hoarse for a while hasn’t it? That’s why you’re so afraid you’d fuck up with Sectionals because you’re afraid the judges would notice. Your skin’s dry and pallid because you’re dehydrated and your hair looks stiff and brittle from lack of nourishment. You were lucky that you recovered quickly otherwise you might have been sent in to the Emergency Room to have intravenous fluids reach you before you die.”

“How do you know all this?”

He gives out a long resounding sigh as if it’s taking him a supreme effort to be patient. However judging by the look of pain etched on his handsome face, I realize that the attempt was not for my sake but for his. It dawns on me that this topic is painful for him and I can see that there’s more to this story than he wants to let on.

“I was a very young when it happened. I watched my mother lock herself inside a bathroom for an hour’s end after eating and I would stand by her door and keep an eye out for her. There were days on end when she had to paint her fingernails black so nobody would notice how brittle they’ve become or the acid stains on the finger’s she used to induce her vomiting. I did all I could to stop her from destroying herself….but it was…….useless.” His voice goes hard for a moment and then he composes himself when he notices that I’m looking at him. He clears his throat and smiles at me instead. “We’re not here to talk about my past, but I would like to know why.”

I knew he was referring to why I did it. For some apparent nameless reason, I felt like in some way we were kindred spirits in a twisted karma plot. Almost as if he needed to hear it in my own words the things that his mother should have told him if he had been old enough and like he needed some sort of redemption as to give me advice not just for my sake, but also as a way for him to vent out the things he should have said to his mother. My heart goes out for Iain and for the first time, I find myself opening up that the words just flow right out of my mouth easily that it takes me by surprise how honest I could be with a complete stranger.

“I was selfish and insecure because I didn’t fit right into my clothes. I was a nervous wreck and the pressure was getting to me.”

“How can you be so insecure? You’re talented and beautiful.” He looks dumbfounded and perplexed by the notion that I could act this way.

“You think I’m beautiful? Have you seen my mother?” The hysteria bubbles through me as I feel the panic again settling in. Instead of fleeing as I initially would have, Iain looks at me in a way that hypnotizes me to stay put. He doesn’t touch me but looks at me as if seeing me for the first time. I feel naked and exposed by his scrutiny.

“Yes you are beautiful and so is your mother, whatever it is people say she looks like.” He says in such humbled honesty that my eyes bug out. This gorgeous Greek god with the cobalt blue eyes thinks I’m beautiful? I know I’ve been showered with praises by Brody and Jake, but the way Iain says it makes me believe in his sincerity. He says it because he accepts it as the truth, not because he has something to gain or because he finds me attractive. This alone takes me by surprise.

“I take it you haven’t received much compliments from a paternal figure.”

He understands, he actually does get it. I nod wordlessly and was about to ask him how he knew, but he reads my mind quickly and supplies, “She was an orphan. Her father was sentenced in prison for being involved in a Ponzi scam and while her mother was too busy raising her and her twin on her own that she eventually gave up and ran too. For a while, she had lived in foster homes and relied heavily on her twin sister to survive. But despite the hardships she faced, my mother was the sweetest, kindest person you’ll ever meet. She never wished ill of anyone nor did she like to hurt people’s feelings. However, she was also very weak and susceptible that she succumbed to the pressures of the world that she took it out on herself. She never realized that when she did, she was not only endangering her own life, but was hurting the people who loved her most.”

“And that included you,” I add correctly guessing from the anguish that he’s trying desperately to suppress.

“Yes,” he answers tightly.

“I’m sorry.” Is all I could say and I honestly don’t know what I’m apologizing for. If it’s Iain’s sad story or because for once I never realized that being bulimic not only was self-destructive but that I’ve in effectively hurt the people who mattered the most to me. My mom, Jake, Brody, the entire New Directions whom I’ve let down because I was weak. I see the pain in Iain’s eyes and I knew deep in my heart that my apology was actually meant more for him than it did for me. I reach out and touch his arm giving it a little squeeze and he looks nonplussed and rewards me with a ghost of a smile as if saying that I’m forgiven.

We sit in silence, accepting that our sins of omission have finally been liberated and not a moment sooner, I glimpse Quinn Fabray walking slowly towards us. She’s more beautiful than Kitty will ever be, I note as she walks in a red and white floral dress and sparkly red pumps that looks like it came from a high fashion designer label and a large expensive manly leather jacket that I assume is Iain’s. Her long, straight blonde hair is immaculately perfect and her white porcelain skin is clear that I start to think that if ever she ended up with Iain in the long run, they were going to have such gorgeous babies. I quickly remove my hand from Iain’s arm as he steadily watches her walking towards us. She looks calm and contained, but I knew that from her narrowed gaze that she looks slightly jealous and I’m actually afraid that she’ll kick my head in for touching her man. She does relax a bit when I’ve given her a guilty apologetic look as she stops in front of us with an angelic smile on her face.

“Well, I guess Kitty’s going to be leaving you alone for a while.” Quinn says smoothly but even though I know she’s talking to me, she never lets her gaze falter from Iain who looks noncommittal but I seriously detect a sizzle underneath those frosty stares they’re exchanging. I mumble something about my mom looking for me and hastily move away from the couple. Iain just quickly nods as if dismissing me and when I’m a few feet distance away from them, I turn my head and smile gratefully at the man whom I just believed saved my life while I redeemed his.

* * *

Quinn

***

I’ve just given Kitty hell about the whole Marley situation. I quickly patched things up with Santana backstage and we both go full on the little brat who had just ruined their chances at Sectionals. Iain was right about her being a fine piece of work, the girl was a remarkably good actress, claiming that she was just helping Marley who took it too much further. The truth was, bullshit like that never worked on me because I invented that whole sham act I tell her as her eyes blaze in fury that changed her into something evil. Like Sue Sylvester when she was much younger, I simper thinking just how wrong she was to think I was anything like her. I adored the woman once, but seeing this kind of destruction on such selfish deeds made me sick to my stomach that I started to wonder how was it that I could have been so blind and think that those two were anything like me?

I would have never done this to Rachel Berry. Never!

Even though there was that time I had nearly convinced her to get a nose job. Hey, it would have definitely been an improvement in my defense. Plus didn’t she say something about it also improving her voice octave?

But something like this, destructive in a manipulative way was like a like to a man’s groin. It was definitely below the belt. I was used to stage-managing things to work my way, but these days the taste of it feels like it’s gone dry and left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth that I just couldn’t comprehend why.

Iain was right about me letting go of my past. I’m no longer that Cheerio who craved being the center of attention and wanted to be Prom Queen. I wasn’t the angry teenager acting out because she had just ruined her life by becoming pregnant. No longer did I feel the need for Beth, or the need to don the Cheerio uniform or be whoever people thought Quinn Fabray was in Lima, Ohio.

I am growing up.

Finally, Lucy Quinn Fabray, you have matured into a respectable adult, my subconscious gives a gallant bow of acknowledgement. My inner Cheerio smiles ruefully but this time she’s no longer wearing the red and white cheerleader outfit and has her hair tied up in a high pony. Instead the new Quinn is calmer, serene, and almost channeling Kate Middleton as she wears her hair loose letting the golden curls wave to perfection and is clad in an elegant blue violet Prada dress and Christian Louboutin skyscraper heels that sparkled in white and gold as I find myself thinking that it would be the most perfect dress to wear on Thanksgiving.

Iain would definitely love seeing me wear this! I smile giddy inside thinking of the possibilities of him trying to sneak me away from my parents and Fran that I find myself searching high and low for him. I don’t know how long I’ve been walking or how many minutes have gone by from my search that I’ve found myself stepping outside and almost walking into the couple who were lounging easily by the steps. My heart stills for a moment when I see Iain sitting comfortably beside a pale wisp of a girl with brown hair as they talk in companionable ease. Relax, he’s not hitting on Marley, my former inner Cheerio is now known as Grown-Up Quinn who steadies my arm and clucks her tongue disapprovingly. Just look at his face and you’ll know what they’re talking about, she urges.

And it takes a supreme effort on my part, dreading the pain and jealousy twisting my heart but as I turn to look for once my man wasn’t focused on me, I watch as a myriad of emotions pass through Iain’s face. For once, he isn’t his usual contained mercurial self. I see a vulnerability etched with pain and loss. The last time I’ve seen him like this was when I was at the hospital during my accident when I thought I could never walk again. I strain my ears to hear what they’re saying, but sadly even I can’t read their lips at this distance. He’s breathing heavily, almost like as if a bullet was lodged from his chest and was about to be removed. Marley looks on wordlessly sympathetic and apologetic at the same time an then it dawns on me that she isn’t even looking at him in a way that most girls usually have.

She understands where he’s coming from.

Suddenly, I recall the encounter I had with Genevieve a few months ago.

“I deemed Iain’s mother unfit to raise him. Perhaps that had been my mistake. She wasn’t strong enough to handle the pressures of being married to a man like his father. Maybe someday, he’ll be able to explain the details of his past.”

Could this be it? The one thing linking him to his past? I wasn’t dumb enough to assume that somewhere along the lines Iain also had another half-sister in Marley considering that they looked nothing alike except they both had blue eyes. But Iain’s was darker and shone like dark sapphires whilst Marley’s was light blue like marbles. They couldn’t be related but somehow the conversation they shared was so personal they seemed like kindred spirits.

Suddenly, I felt jealous and hurt thinking as of why Iain wouldn’t share his pain with me. I was sick and tired of waiting I found myself walking towards them, ignoring the pleas coming from Grown-Up Quinn who wobbles at my wake, apparently she’s going to need some time to get used to wearing five inch heels and my subconscious who rolls her eyes, having given up on me for the longest time when I know I want something.

I keep my control for the sake of Marley. The poor girl looks exhausted and probably will have to eventually face the angry mob that is Tina Cohen-Chang who is apparently pissed that her first solo minus Rachel Berry became an absolute flop. Not that I wanted to hurt Tina’s already busted feelings, but there was no way that they were going to win singing a song that nobody knows what it really means. In fact, I have no clue as to what Gangnam Style is or how if it has anything to do with the dance moves or if it was a manner of dress. I didn’t feel like pointing out that this was Finn’s fault either for picking out such a horrible number. He’s new to the whole being the new musical director thing since Mister Schuester left.

I have a feeling that Grown-Up Quinn’s maturity index is highly infectious that I’m now rationalizing things.

I focus instead to Iain who’s looking at me warily. Marley slips away from us and neither of us notice her departure.

“Are you done here?” I ask calmly.

“Yes.”

“I got off in time to watch you talk to Marley,” I say trying to cover the possessiveness in my voice but I know I’ve failed that seeing Iain raise his eyebrow. “If it’s not too much to ask, could you care to indulge me on what you two were talking about if it’s not too personal?”

“We were talking about her.”

“There seemed to be a lot more sharing on your part.”

“Hmm.” He tipped his head and looked at me as I sat down beside him. I then start to think that it had to be fate that I had chanced upon his great-grandmother telling me that she felt responsible for separating Iain from his mother when he was younger and now witnessing him and Marley divulge in a secret that I knew had a much deeper meaning which didn’t concern the girl who had just blown her chances at Sectionals. Now’s your chance, Quinn. My inner Queen Bitch has now morphed into a more assertive mature version of myself. She’s still dressed in the same cute, girly outfits, but this time she’s wearing moon-shaped plastic black spectacles and has her hair pulled back out into a tight ponytail and is now known as Miss Assertive. Go ahead and push him into telling you!!

“What did Genevieve mean that she thought that your mother was unfit to raise you? Is this why you’ve been acting so concerned about Marley?”

More silence.

“You know, this conversation is about as painful as having my teeth pulled out,” I snap.

“Then maybe we should change the subject,” Iain suggested helpfully.

I stand up from the steps and turn around to face him.

“Iain, please don’t shut me out. You promised you would never leave me, but how am I expected to stay if you won’t be honest with me? You said it takes a leap of blind faith to love someone and here I am doing just that. Now it’s your turn.”

He rose to his feet. “My, aren’t you the therapist of the day?” He tilts his head to look at me but I’m so angry I turn my head and wrap my arms around myself.

“No, of course not,” I deny that statement hastily without realizing then that I myself am not being as honest. “Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”

“I hurt your feelings again,” he said softly as he takes in my chin for him to look at him. I budge eventually an gaze into the apology written on his face and the sincerity of his deep blue eyes.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” He pulls me up against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “I don’t know why in God’s name do I fuck up and keep shutting you out, but I sure as hell don’t deserve anyone as good as you.”

I lean into him, loving the feel of his warm, muscular body and the scent of his mixed with aftershave, bodywash, shampoo and him. He rubs my back in a manner that’s comforting and yet I get this feeling he’s doing this for his own benefit than mine. He takes a deep breath and swallows.

“My mother was bulimic, Quinn. I guess you were partially right about my concern for Marley because she reminded me of her.”

My eyes widen in horror.

Oh my.

This is bad. I fully understand now why Genevieve opted not to tell me this story. I lean back and gaze at him, waiting for him to explain. I don’t say anything because he continues on his ‘prepared soliloquy as if he’d practice this opening salvo for days and is desperate to be rid of it.

“My mother was a ballet dancer, so there was a certain figure that she had to maintain and she would make herself sick enough to lose all the weight. She stopped when she met my father and everyone thought that things were going on well. But she couldn’t handle the pressure. She was so unhappy with my father, because he was always away. She was lonely and depressed that she started making herself sick again. I was a toddler back then so I wasn’t much help either but I knew that she locked herself in the bathroom to throw up and I would just sit behind the door and cry, begging her to open the door until she came out. At first, nobody noticed because she was naturally slim, but when I had gotten older, people started talking. The rest of my family didn’t believe them. They easily blamed it on the stress from all the social functions that my mother hosted and attended. Then on the morning of my fifth birthday, my mother was preparing me my favorite cake. It was a triple fudge Devil’s Food cake. I remember even telling her that it was going to be the best birthday ever. I knew she was feeling sad because my father couldn’t make it to my birthday that I wanted to make her feel better.” He drew out a shaky breath. “I told her I loved her, and that afternoon during my party, she fainted and was rushed to the hospital. She was so weak and dehydrated that the nurses had some difficulty starting her on venous fluids and the doctors at the emergency room had to give her rapid bolus drips because they feared that she would have died right there.”

I let out a gasp of shock. I knew I recalled asking Iain if he remembered his mother and he said that he barely did, but I had no idea that he lived with a memory like this and had to block it despite feeling its terrible aftereffects through the years. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper as I hug him tighter. I close my eyes and try to imagine a little boy with tousled dark, brown black hair and big dark blue eyes crying and knocking on a bathroom door, begging his mother to come out because he was so worried for her. Tears fall unabashedly as I weep not for the man holding me in his arms, but for the youth that he had been and how traumatic it must have been to live in hell for an innocent child who must’ve been alone and depressed thinking it was all his fault that he couldn’t save her.

“So am I. I’m sorry for my mother, who was unhappy, sorry for my father who didn’t show her he loved her enough, sorry for everything that transpired thereafter that made me doubt in ever loving someone. Until you came along, that is.”

“Iain, I—“

“Promise me you’ll never be like her. I’m not like my father. I won’t leave you. That’s why I’m here and I wanted you to know that because I love you.”

I nod and gaze at the sadness in his eyes. He gently wipes a stray tear with the back of his knuckles.

“Yes,” I whisper achingly as I put both my hands on his face. “I love you, too.” A low groan tears from Iain’s chest as he smothers my mouth with his. He kisses me fiercely, passionately, then tenderly all reflecting that he could never get enough of me. I respond with the same fervor and return it as if it could erase every sad memory we ever possessed but I knew that could never be enough and that the only thing we have is here and now. And right now all I care about is the man who I’m desperately in love with, more so after his confession about his earliest childhood memory that left him traumatized. At last he drags his mouth from mine and holds me in his arms, pressing me against the rapid pounding of his heart. He doesn’t move for several minutes and when I raise my face to look at him, he gives me a weak smile.

Wait!!! You thought it was over did you? I added another bonus, this time with Iain befriending Artie. Enjoy.

***

As they walked into a huge paneled room, Artie noticed that there were no windows just large tiles plastered from ceiling and floor that just by looking at it seemed hard to distinguish which was up and which way was down. It reminded him of a chamber that could have been found in a computer game like the ones Sam and Jake Puckerman enjoyed playing. He turned over to the towering man with a shock of brown-black hair and startling blue eyes.

“What is this place?”

Iain Hargreave gave off a lazy half-smile as he scanned the room. “This is one of the training grounds used for potential test pilots for NASA.” He pauses and nods to a group of people who approach him eagerly. Some are donned in lab coats while the others look like pilot cadets in their shiny space-like suits. “Over the years, it’s been expensive to shoulder cadets with living and travel expenses that NASA has decided to expand their horizons so Ohio seemed like the perfect candidate. Besides,” he smiled wryly. “Unlike Chicago, Wisconsin, Michigan, and New York taxes are lower so it’s another win for the people who work here.”

“Is this the anti-gravity chamber?” Artie’s eyes bug in disbelief as he looks on in wonder.

“Actually, they call it a micro gravity chamber,” Iain corrects him. “Technically there is still gravity present in the room, but it’s been reduced significantly that it can maintain a body weighing less than 200 kilos suspended in air.” “How’s that different from a drop off point tower?”

He raises a dark eyebrow and looks slightly impressed by Artie’s knowledge of aeronautic physics. “Drop off towers test weightlessness, but the principle of dropping a human from a ‘theoretic’ cliff isn’t exactly a good way to test it. But yes, this in fact is the by-product of this. In fact, it’s the first one ever built. It would definitely be the less expensive alternative astronaut training since the only other way to simulate weightlessness is by flying an aircraft stimulating G force and inertia. Another plus is that the effects are far longer than 12 seconds. A person inside a microgravity chamber can maintain a state of weightlessness for at least an hour.” He speaks with such pride that makes Artie ask the next question.

“Did you invent it?”

Iain chuckles as his hard handsome stern face relaxes slightly. “As much as I’m flattered you’d ever think me as that much of a genius, Artie, no I did not.” He nods to the group of lab coats. “They did. I was only responsible for the funding and using the technology to develop an anti-gravity treadmill that could be used to rehabilitate runners, the elderly, and..”

“People who suffered trauma and have learn how to walk again,” Artie finishes now looking at Iain differently. He did this for her, he thought as he gained new respect for the man who won Quinn Fabray’s heart. He was now truly happy for her because she was like a friend to him for that short period when she herself was in a wheelchair. However, unlike Artie, she was able to stand and get back up thanks to that machine ‘Bruce Wayne’ patented.

He notices the look on Arties face and says quietly that only the two of them could hear. “Artie, if I could have made things different back then, I would have. The technology and the timing just wasn’t there when you needed it and for that I am sorry. But I hope that both could now at least compensate even for just the briefest of minutes.”

“What do you mean? Being in this chair is a part of who I am.”

Iain Hargreave looks stunned for the briefest moments as he gains a humbled respect for the boy in the wheelchair who has more courage than he ever will. He nods and clears his throat because for the longest time he really didn’t know what to say. He was raised in a cold, stark environment despite the rich, glamorous life style; but he had always reached out and helped those who were less fortunate than he was. He also knew the workings of a mind of the business men and those he dealt with and knew how to handle people relations and was good on reading people’s action. Iain had this feeling that Artie was like those stubborn businessmen who were too proud admit their sad condition. He expected that reaction, but not this scene where the boy tells him now serenely with the sincerest expression on his face that he was happy in a wheelchair as he would have been if he had still been able to walk.

“Have you ever considered that while you’re up there,” he nods towards the heavens, “your legs won’t matter?”

Artie lifts his head and just when he does, the black panels glow on the ceiling glow and each turns on like a flat screen TV displaying an array of stars. He looks on in awed wonder now that the wall panels have gone and done the same thing.

“Pretty neat, huh? It impresses me too every time,” Iain says dryly, but he’s actually smiling. He then swiftly introduces him to a tall, powerfully built older man who reminded Artie of Clint Eastwood in an orange space suit. “This is Captain Robert Reynolds. He was one of the astronauts present during NASA’s flight to Mars. He’s going to walk you through the simulator.”

Artie was speechless. For the first time, he was going to be able to know what it feels like to be weightless, and he was going to be just like everyone present in this particular room, people who were built like athletes struggle around in an almost zero gravity state. Iain was right that his legs wouldn’t matter, because he and these people present would all just be equals underneath a dark, starlit sky. It wasn’t close to walking again, or being able to dance.

This was so much better.

One of lab rats has removed him off his wheelchair and Captain Reynolds is carrying him like as if he was already weightless as he easily briefs him in on the procedures of what’s about to happen, just as Artie turns around to thank Iain, he notices the young man turn toward the door as one of the senior lab rats follows his trail.

“What about you? Aren’t you going to hang around?”

Iain turns around and grins wryly. “I’m afraid of heights.”

#glee #glee fanfiction #glee fandom #quinn fabray #kurt hummel #rachel berry #fan fiction #fan fic writing #ocs #romance

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ispyblu · 8 years ago

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Rubies Are Red, Azurite Is Blue

A super long oneshot based on @parfaitperi's super wonderful art of the Voltron lions as humans and @a-little-hot-mess's post that contributed to some details and a couple personality traits I can't explain how grateful I am to them to inspire me to write this oneshot thank you both of you! ----------------------- “Lance! Mijito, c’mon baby, we're going to be late!” Azura said as she tried not to yank on her nephew’s arm too hard. “But tía! I don't want to go see your friends, I want ice cream!” His exaggerated pouty lip and and the crocodile tears threatening to come out were trying Azura’s patience. “Hey hey hey hey hey, none of that now. C’mere.” She picked up the 5 year old and bounced him on her hip. “I promise you, as soon as we're done catching up we will go get ice cream, but you have to promise me you will be a good little munchkin, ok?” Lance kept his head down while his face kept a scrunched up look. “Hmm? I can't hear you…” she said playfully before attacking his little belly with tickles and raspberries. “Ahh! No! Stop Tía ‘Zura!” The little boy said between giggles. “Ok! Ok! I promise!” Azura stopped and readjusted Lance back on her hip. “Thank you. I promise you won't be too bored, Hunk is going to be there and the girls said they'd bring some kids your age too! Maybe you'll make some new friends!" Her little nephew gasped happily and proceeded to explain in great detail what games they would play and how excited he was. Azura just listened and answered any of Lance's questions. She loved her nephew dearly and even though she loved and cared for each of her sister's children, Lance was a kindred spirit . They were so much alike, always smiling and adapting well to bad situations, of course Lance was a child, but Azura was sure that once he was older he'd be just as attentive to those situations as she was. They walked for ten more minutes before finally reaching a sweet looking cottage like house, it was surrounded by a short white fence and different flowers surrounding the yard, rose bushes, hydrangeas some huge pink and white flowers that looked like they'd topple over with their own weight, different shrubs and baby trees were seen here and there scattered around the yard. Lance was amazed. "Wow! Tía, are your friends fairies? It's so pretty!!" Azura just laughed and pushed open the gate following the little cobblestone path to the front porch. When they reached the front door she placed Lance down in the floor, straightened his shirt, and took his hand before knocking. There was loud shuffling coming from inside and a muted "Katie Holt! You get your little naked ass over here!" More loud crashes and screams were heard until suddenly the door opened by a small little girl probably half Lance's age, in nothing but a huge fluffy green towel swallowing her slight frame. "Hello! My name's Katie! But auntie Esme calls me Pidge!" "Gotcha! You little gremlin! Hey Zura, how's the husband hunting going?" Esmeralda stood there with a wriggling little girl in her arms acting nonchalantly as if it happened everyday. Overcome with a sudden shyness, Lance stood behind his tía. "Esme watch your language there are children present!" Azura said with mock offense but shortly pulled a brilliant smile. Esme leaned against the door jamb returning the playful smile. "Aw, don't worry Pidgeon here has heard much much worse." The little girl stopped her escape attempts to smile and nod at their guests. Esme laughed and spotted Lance peek out behind Azura's leg. "Hey little guy, oh my gosh don't tell me this is Lance! What a handsome little man!" Azura saw Lance's chest puff out and he came out of hiding. "Thank you very much ma'am." He said with a wide grin. "Ooh and polite too! Maybe you could learn a thing or too from him Pidgey, but first let's get you some clothes. Come in you guys, sorry you had too see my little streaker, but she really needed the bath. Little stinker decided it would be nice to have a dirt war with herself before guests came." "Oh no, go ahead I remember babysitting Lance at that age, he hated wearing his diaper." She laughed while Lance tried to defend his honor. "And as for the husband hunting, god Esme! I haven't been any luckier than when we graduated! This is a total blow for my street cred! I was voted Most Likely to Date Her Whole Life, and since then I've been cursed to die alone!" Azura sat on the bar stool at the counter with Lance on her lap, hiding her face in her nephew's loose curls. "Damn, sounds like a bummer. Wish I was more help, but hard to give advice about relationships when you aren't into those kinds of things. You'd probably be better off when Amber or even Ebony comes." Esme said as she came out of a side door with dear little Pidge in green short overalls and little orange Crocs. Azura set down Lance so the two of them could play, they walked off to the next room where a chest of toys awaited them. The two older women talked a bit until the doorbell rang again. Esme quickly launched herself around the counter just in time to catch Pidge from opening the door again herself. "Nuh uh, my little sapling. Not this time." Together they both went to the door and Azura heard and smelled Amber before she saw her. The lovely heavyset woman peeked her head in before nearly dropping her huge bag of cupcakes and cookies on the counter to crush Azura in a hug. "Girl, I missed you so much!" Azura laughed as she returned the hug. "Honeydew I just saw you last week for Lance and Hunk's play date." Amber grabbed her by the shoulders. "And do you know how long I've suffered by not being in your presence?!" The girls were interrupted by a sudden cry of "Hunk!!!" And watched as little Lance launched himself in the stockier boy's arms causing them to fall over. Esme put down Pidge at that moment just in time for her to run over and join in on the pile of twisted limbs. The little kids were giggling and the older girls chuckled at their antics. "I'm so sorry I'm a bit late, I was waiting on the cupcakes to cool off long enough to frost them, and by the time they were good I realized I only had a few minutes to decorate them, pack them, and get Hunky and myself into the car!" She said as she took the said pastries out of the bag and onto a cute little display Esme had purchased just for the occasion. "It's worth it if it means I get cupcakes!" Esme said excitedly trying to snatch one, but unfortunately Amber slapped her hand away. "Wait until Ruby and Ebony come at the very least." Esme grumbled and clutched her 'injured' hand to her chest, perking up when the door sounded again. "Please tell me they carpooled, please tell me they carpooled.." she mumbled under her breath. Azura and Amber stayed in the kitchen to unpack the rest of the treats when the heard a loud groan come from the front. Esme came back a little later with her shoulders slumped and Ebony behind her with an older boy in tow. "I have never felt so loved before." Ebony deadpanned before cracking a grin a ruffling the shorter girl's hair. The other two joined them and more hugs were exchanged. Then Ebony introduced the boy with her. "This is Shiro, he's part of the Big Brother Big Sister thing I started with Alfor, you guys remember Alfor, right?" "You mean the adorable little twink from high school?" Azura asked. "How is he now?" "Take a look for yourself." Ebony then took out her phone that showed a picture of group of people and their 'little brothers and sisters'. Ebony stood with Shiro in front and at her side stood a broad shouldered, mocha skinned man with a goatee and light blue eyes. "Holy shit! When the heck did that happen?!" Azura took the phone from Ebony's hand and zoomed in on Alfor's face. "How did- when did- huh??" The girls merely laughed and Ebony told Shiro to go keep an eye on the younger kids for a bit. Azura snapped out of her stupor. "So, is Mr. Hotbod looking for a missus?" She waggled her sculpted brows. Ebony shook her head good naturally. "No after we left school, he actually found himself a nice girl to settle down with and they have a sweet little girl a year younger than Shiro." "Aww man! Why is fate so cruel to me! Please diosito, I'm sorry for anything I've done to deserve this!" She slumped into Amber's cushy shoulder while she patted her friend's head. “Aww come on Zura don't be like that. You know you'll always have us.” Amber said trying to comfort her. “Well come back to this soon, but for now have you guys heard from Ruby? She told me she was going to be late but I expected her to be here by now…” Ebony looked concern, which wasn't a surprise considering the two were friends long before meeting the rest of their group. "I'm sure she's- Ding dong! "-already here!" Amber said positively. "I'll get it this time!" Azura called out as she made her way quickly to the front door. While the other four gave knowing looks to each other. Azura paid no mind to them as she subconsciously combed back a loose curl from her face and opened the door. “Hey carrot-top, long time no see.” She said with a sly grin, leaning dramatically against the door frame. Ruby did not seem amused. “It's not my fault you grabbed the wrong hair dye! When are you going to put that lame nickname to rest?” “Never. I still have pictures if it makes you feel better!” Ruby just pushed her way into the house, a little boy in tow. “Oh! Is this-?” “Huh? Oh. Yeah. Zura, this is Keith, my new son.” Azura knelt down in front of the little boy, who had yet to look up from the ground. “Hey Keith. My names Azura, I used to know your momma.” Azura used the quiet voice she used when she was dealing with her sister’s youngest kids. Keith looked up for only a bit before returning his gaze to his little white sneakers. “Hullo.” He mumbled. Azura looked up at Ruby who momentarily had a pained look on her face before taking a breath and hardened her eyes. Azura knew that look. Knew that the pain Ruby felt was still fresh from the accident that happened almost a year ago that took away her sister and her brother-in-law. But Ruby was stupidly dutiful like that, and she would not let herself grieve terribly when she had her sister's child to look after, Azura admired her for that. She acted before thinking and stood with her arms open letting Ruby know she wouldn't judge and she definitely wouldn't say anything if that's what she wanted. Ruby merely leaned her head against Azura’s shoulder and wrapped her free arm around Azura’s. They paused for a moment so Azura could pick up Keith and let him hug his aunt turned mother. The other girls came trickling in, causing Azura and Ruby to separate quickly. But Azura kept a hand on the small of Ruby’s back as they traveled further into the house, to give that little bit of reassurance to her. Keith was dropped off with the other kids perking up a bit when he saw Shiro, whom he had taken a strong liking to. The group of women told each of their charges to be good, gave them each a cookie that Amber said Hunk had made especially for them, and left them in Shiro’s care before going back to the kitchen to catch up. Being a good three years older, Shiro felt good that his new aunties trusted him enough to keep an eye on their babies. Pidge was the youngest at the age of three, and Shiro had already taken to carrying her almost everywhere. Esme warned him he was going to spoil her, but Shiro didn't mind, she was an angel with him. Maybe it was playing favorites, but Shiro had already invested too much attention to Pidge in the short time he'd known her. The only one he'd probably put over Pidge was Keith. Thanks to Ebony and Aunt Ruby's tight bond, Shiro and Keith spent a lot of time with each other. Ebony would tell him that everyone needed someone to look up to, like he looked up to her, and Keith seemed to have imprinted on him like a baby duckling. The little boy wanted to be just like Shiro. He would follow him around the house and share all his stories about what he did in school. Shiro liked having Keith around, and when Keith and Aunt Ruby stayed over Ebony's home after the accident, Shiro had made it his personal mission to help his 'little brother' out. It wasn't easy at first, considering Keith didn't know what had actually happened, and even after he was told in the most gentle of ways instead of flat out throwing tantrums to see his parents again, he just became sad and quiet. Acting as if he accepted never seeing his parents again. It was a few months before the two were well off enough for Aunt Ruby to get them a little apartment and a few more to obtain and sign the papers needed for Aunt Ruby to adopt Keith. In the meantime Shiro had tried being the best brother he could be, but Keith still would clam up and didn't speak unless it was necessary, but Shiro wouldn't give up. It wasn't until one rainy day when Shiro went to visit that he found out what was going on in Keith's head. He and Aunt Ruby were trying to get Keith to do a puzzle with them, but the little boy just sat and watched them instead. When Aunt Ruby left to get snacks from the kitchen Keith spoke. "Shiro, do you think Aunt Ruby will leeb me too? Like mommy and daddy?" Shiro just stared at him. "What? Why do you think that?" Keith just played with his socked feet, curling himself up into a tiny ball. "Mommy and daddy didn't want me anymore right? Ts'why they leff me." "Oh, baby..." Aunt Ruby had entered the room and Shiro watched as Keith tried to hide from her gaze. Aunt Ruby sat next to him and pulled him into her lap. His little shoulders were shaking with the force of his unshed tears. "They didn't want to go baby, they would never have wanted to leave you if they had a choice." Aunt Ruby was strong, Ebony always called her a great and terrible force of nature, and it brought tears to Shiro's eyes when he heard the crack in her voice and her own shoulders quake with wracking sobs. She saw him and lifted her arm waiting for him to crash into her lap and the three of them just cried and cried after almost a year of pretending they'd cried enough. After they all calmed down some Aunt Ruby had put her hands on either side of Keith's face. "Now you listen to me little man," She said gently. "You were always wanted, life just knew how good your parents were that it wanted them for itself. And it's not fair. But just because the world did a bad thing does not mean they loved you or me any less! You were always wanted and you are wanted now, that's why we signed all those papers, so you would never be alone and I will always stay with you and love and take care of you forever." She wiped away the moisture from his cheeks and Keith's big indigo eyes met hers. "So...does that mean you're my new mommy now?" Aunt Ruby hugged both of the boys to her chest. "If that's what you want me to be firecracker, then that's what I'll do." Keith just pushed his tear streaked face and runny nose further into the softness of her shirt and just kept saying "Mommy! Mommy!" over and over again. After that Shiro saw a gradual change in his little brother, there were still times when Keith would get sad for his first parents. But then when Shiro visited he would bounce back a bit and let himself smile. Shiro knew it would take time to have Keith fully recover from this experience, but he was willing to help as much as he could. Which is why he was so confused with Keith's sudden change of attitude when he met the other kids at Aunt Esme's house. Shiro was fully prepared to have two little kids at his side while the other two played together. Instead he found the little blue eyed boy named Lance challenge Keith to a Lego building contest. "C'mon! It'll be fun!" Keith just stood there staring defiantly at the boy, probably not planning on leaving Shiro's side. "Ohhh, I get it. You're just escared of losing aren't you?” Lance had his hands on his hips and a cheeky smirk on his face. Keith pushed his face up and creased his brows. “No I'm not!" Shiro watched as the anger shined through Keith's eyes, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. "Yeah right! Prove it then!" "I will!" With that the two boys raced quickly to the big bucket of Legos that sat in the middle of the floor. Lance and Keith split the Legos evenly amongst them and had Hunk be the referee. "Ok, whoever makes the biggest tower wins! Ready?" The two boys stared down the other, each already holding onto a brick to start. "Set?...GO!" Shiro sat Pidge on his lap and watched as the two boys aggressively started clasping bricks together. Keith had already started stacking his into a singular line already having to stand on his knees. Lance's wasn't very high yet, but Shiro saw he had made a base of sorts to balance the weight of his tower. Which would've been helpful to Keith, whose tower leaned to much to one side and came down with a crash, breaking into different pieces when it came in contact with the floor. "No!" Keith moaned as he started gathering his pieces and tried to refit them again before Lance finished his tower. He had to keep a hand on his tower at all times, until he realized the last piece was out of reach. He vainly tried to stretch his small little arms to it but moved to much and sent his tower tumbling once again. Just as Lance placed the last brick on top of his still-standing tower. "Ha! I beat you! Whoo!" Lance started running around the room with his arms stretched out like a little airplane, while he hummed a familiar little song out loud. "Lance? Is that the Space Ranger Buddies' theme song?" Shiro asked. Lance nodded his head super fast. "Uh huh! It's my favorite! Mama says I might get the Ranger Red toy for my birthday if I'm good!" His little blue eyes sparkled as he showed how excited he was by running in place. "That's Keith's favorite show too! And he really wants the Ranger Blue toy, don't you Keith?" Keith, who was pouting up until he too recognized the catchy little song escape Lance's mouth, uncrossed his arms and nodded equally as excited. "The Rangers are so cool! Beating up the bad guys like whoosh! And wham! And blak-chika-bla!" Keith made little finger guns and pretended to shoot. “I think it's more like pow pow pow!” Lance interjected pulling out his own ‘weapon’. “No it's like this! It's like this! Ka-chow ka-chow ka-chow!” Hunk joined into, practically vibrating in excitement. “Pew pewpew pew!” Pidge was the loudest obviously trying to voice her own opinion and join in the fun. "Shiro! Shiro! Do the thing! Do the voice!" Keith screamed, a happy sparkle coming into his eyes. Shiro sighed, but smiled, and in the best evil alien voice he could, said "I'm coming for you Rangers! I will have the Black Lion, and the ultimate weapon will be mine! Mwahahahaha!” The little kids laughed and chased after Shiro when he ‘took hostage’ of Pidge and ran around the house. “Lookie what I brought!” Azura said excitedly. Ruby glanced up from her plate (Amber had outdone herself once again, dammit, she was going to gain another 10 lbs...oh well!), and saw Azura holding up a bag of herbs. She groaned. “Zura, no! When are you going to get it through your head that you are not psychic?” Azura pouted. “I very well could be! My grandmother was a fortune teller! I just...haven't unlocked my true potential, that's all!” Ruby rolled her eyes, she would never tell Azura, but she found it quite adorable the way she tried relentlessly to predict their future. Everyone's future. She corrected herself. Everyone's. "Regardless of some people's lack of faith. This time will be different, I can feel it!" "I'm pretty sure what your feeling is just an ominous cloud ready to rain acid through your happy daydreaming." Ruby went back to attempting to steal treats from Esme's plate but would get smacked instead, fully intending to avoid Azura's pouting look. "I'll go first Zura!" Amber raised her hand as if they were back in high school. Azura's sad face magically slipped off her face a she squealed and grabbed Esme's tea kettle. "Ok, I think I figured out what went wrong the last time," she said over the running of the faucet. "Obviously, working with just any tea lying around won't work. I need to use one that represents me on an astral level, so obviously I need to align myself with my Pomegranate Green tea and focus our energies together to actually be able to read all you guys’ futures!” She put the kettle on the stove then ran back to the table before launching herself into Ruby's lap and stealing a bite of the cookie she was about to put in her mouth. “Azura!! You don't steal another woman's cookie! We have rules for a reason!” "Aw come on Ru-ru, I know you're not really mad at me." Azura fluttered her lashes and wrapped her long arms around Ruby's neck. Ruby had two options; become flustered and show everyone and their respective child how much Azura could get to her or...not. I think we all know which one she chose. With an impassive face, she merely hooked her arm underneath Azura's knees and lifted her up. She ignored the shrill squawk that exited from the other girl's throat and chucked her over the sofa in the front room. "Don't eat my cookies again, savage." Azura just giggled until the kettle started whistling, at which point she raced back to the kitchen and mixed the dry mix and water into cups. "Ok! Everybody drink at your own pace, whenever you're done Amber, I'll start with you." The girls smiled fondly at their friend and through a variety of blows and sips and gulps they steadily finished their cups. Amber sat in front of Azura holding out her cup in anticipation. Azura took out her ‘scrying saucer’ (it was just a plate with cool painted pictures, let's be real here) and made a big show of lifting the cup over her head and called forth the spirits of her dead ancestors to help her see the events yet to come. It was actually really fantastic to watch, what Azura lacked in actual prophetic skill, she made up for in wonderful showmanship. She then carefully turned the cup over and placed it upside down on her saucer, giving it a couple of pats to its bottom. "Ok here we go!" She lifted the the cup with a flourish, the dregs of tea scattered along its surface in random places. "Now Amber, according to the leaves...you will be taken someplace new, ooh lucky, oh! Never mind." "What? What is it?" Amber asked. Leaning over the saucer as if she too could see something more than soggy tea leaves. “It looks like trouble will follow you, a fight of some kind takes place, oh! But look, you come out victorious!” “Yes! So all in all seems like a good day, whoo hoo!” Azura laughed at her best friend's antics. Ruby was grateful that Amber would do anything to make Azura feel more confident in herself, she just wished she could be more like that, be the one Azura could go to as well, be her shoulder to cry on, she knew Azura was the most self-sacrificing person to ever live, she does so much for others she forgets about herself...ugh, maybe she should face the facts, her and Azura's relationship was nothing like what Amber and Azura had. “Ok! Who's next?” Azura read that Ebony would travel somewhere far, most likely job-related, she assured her she will have enough money so souvenirs were greatly accepted, insert her smirky wink-face. Esme needed to watch herself or she would carelessly break another bone, again. (“I have done no such thing before!” “Lies, blasphemous lies.”) “Ru-ru~ It's your turn~” Ruby let out an expected groan and pretended to drag her feet as she switched seats with Esme. “Fine. Here.” She plunked her cup on the table and waited with her arms crossed. Azura tipped the cup and patted its sides like before. “Alrighty, let's see what the world has planned for you carrot-top.” Azura said with a sweet smile. Ruby just huffed and glared at her to hurry up. Azura took a look at the tea leaves, the grin slipping off her face. “Huh.” “What?” Ruby said looking much more interested than she seemed. “You- you're- the leaves say there's a promise of love in your future…” Azura's voice had lowered exceptionally. “Oooh, Ruby! Who are you crushing on? You planning on asking them out soon?” Esme egged on her, giving knowing smirks and glances. “I don't know what you're talking about…” Ruby grumbled, obviously lying as a blush formed across her nose. Azura looked her in the eye. “Who-?” She was interrupted by loud squeals of delight from their charges. The older kids had found toy guns to help better act out their adventures, while Pidge toddled after them with a paper crown that was falling over her forehead and an old apron tied up as a cape, indignant cries to ‘slow down guys!’ coming from her mouth. The little girl seemed tired, her steps a bit unbalanced. Esme scooped her up, letting her lean against her chest. “Hey stinker, I think it's time for a nap.” She said gently while bouncing on the balls of her feet.: “Noooo, I'm na sleepy…” Pidge said with a large yawn. Esme just giggled at her goddaughter. “Close your eyes little sapling, dream of talking flowers.” The little girl curled up in her embrace and slowly complied. Hushed coos came from everybody else. “Well I think that's our cue to be on our way.” Ebony said. Amber agreed stating that her mother told her to go with Hunk to his kid-safe cooking class. And Esme went to quickly put Pidge to bed before saying good bye. “Tía! Tía! Can Keith come get ice cream with us? Please please please?” Azura picked up lance and nuzzled his nose with hers. “You don't forget anything do you?” “Nope!” He wriggled out of her arms to go and grab Keith's hand. Azura looked over to Ruby. “Do you guys have any plans for today?” Ruby smiled and shook her head. “Keith baby? You wanna go get ice cream?” The boys nearly screamed in joy. The women said their goodbyes, promising to catch up with each other a lot sooner and left their separate ways. Keith and Lance held each other's hands to Ruby's car, who had offered to drive them home as well. Luckily she had two car seats for when Shiro would come visit. The four climbed in and rode off to the cute little creamery in the center of town. All the while the boys play fought, and talked about other shows and toys they have. They each got an ice cream cone and walked over to park across the street, the boys eating on the swings while their guardians watched from a park bench. “So…” Azura started airily. “So…?” Ruby responded focused on getting the drops of strawberry threatening to spill over. Azura cleared her throat. “So, do I know this person you have a crush on?” Ruby almost choked on the bit of ice cream she was savoring. She coughed while Azura rubbed her back. “Why are we talking about this now?” Azura shrugged. “I don't know, I've just been wondering. Who in this entire world could've caught the great Ruby Kwang’s eye? How wonderful must they be to achieve that kind of honor?” Azura said this with an easy smile but couldn't help the plummeting feeling in her stomach. Someone caught Ruby's attention, someone Ruby deemed worthy enough to be considered an equivalent. Azura couldn't help but feel bitterness for whoever they were, they were going to get one of the greatest people to ever grace the earth with their presence. She looked back to her friend who looked a bit red in the face, but that could've just been from the coughing fit she had. “You really think that? That I'm wonderful?” Azura hid her face and nibbled on her waffle cone. “Of course I do,” Ruby looked down at her own partially melted cone. Azura thought she was wonderful. She couldn't even comprehend how that was possible. Azura was like all the stars in the sky, she outshines the sun, her smile alone could cause wars like that of Helen of Troy. If Ruby was wonderful, Azura was 10 times that amount, how could she not see that? The two stayed silent and watched the boys climb onto the jungle gym pretending they were space pirates or something, until Azura spoke again. “They must be smokin’ hot, huh? The person you like?” Ruby felt her cheeks burn. “Why are so adamant about this?! Just let it go, Zura!” “I need to know! It's killing me from the inside! Tell me!” “No.” “Ru-ru come on! How am I supposed to know if they're a good match for you? You gotta tell me! Are they from work? Did you bump into each other in the supermarket? Did-?” “I have liked the same person since high school!!” The confession had just burst from her mouth with no warning, both parties were shocked, by the volume and bluntness of her response. “Wait, what? Seriously? How could you have been crushing on the same person for almost 7 years and I didn't know about it!? We were together everyday! We were roommates in college!” “Well, that just goes to show you the person I like is completely obtuse…” Ruby mumbled under her breath. But Azura caught it. “What does that have to do with anything? We were talking about….me….” Ruby wouldn't look back at her, she kept her arms tensed and crossed, her posture, defensive. “Me?” Azura said again. “You liked...me? All this- all this time?” Ruby lifted her knees and held them to her chest, hiding her burning face even more. “You're telling me you've had a crush on me since high school?” Ruby nodded. “For seven years?!” Another nod. “You're telling me I could have been macking on your fine ass for years now and you were keeping it a secret!!!” Ruby nodded only to stop halfway and slowly turn her head. “Wait, wha-?” Azura reached over and took Ruby's hand in hers. “You beautiful idiot, why wouldn't you tell me?” She whispered gently, fondly. “I- I didn't-” she swallowed. “I didn't think you felt the same…” Azura exhaled and raised their joined hands to her lips, kissing each pale knuckle. “Stupid carrot-top…” she mumbled against her skin. “Will you go out with me sometime?” Azura asked, lips never leaving her hand. Ruby nodded and Azura smiled slowly and widely. She pulled them up to their feet and corralled the boys back to the car, all the while never letting go of Ruby's hand. When the boys were seated and Ruby started the ignition, Azura took hold of her hand again. “Hey?” Ruby looked to her. Azura looked at her happily. “Told you I was psychic.” Ruby snorted out a laugh while Azura placed one more kiss on her hand. It was the start of beautiful relationship.

#parfaitperi #a-little-hot-mess #you guys are an inspiration #thank you...#i love you both #even tho you don't know me

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