I had a snippet of a dream where Quinn Fabray promised me she'd make the Cheerios less homophobic. Thus, this fic was born. I was hoping to finish this all in one day but it's proving troublesome, or at least my attention span is. Should have it all finished before Christmas though. :D

Title: Queerleaders (1/?)
Pairing: eventual Quinn/Rachel, established Brittany/Santana
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1630
Summary: Quinn enlists Rachel Berry's help in trying to make the Cheerios less homophobic.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters but I do own this plot.
Author's Notes: Not any legitimate spoilers (except maybe 1.04 Preggers but only kind of) since the fic is kind of AU. Quinn is not pregnant and is still on the Cheerios because I figured she should still have a little power over the girls to make the story work properly.


“It’s no big deal!” Quinn shouts after the crowd of skirts pooling out of the locker room. Their cruel words linger in the air and a few of them throw backward glares at the three remaining Cheerios. She can only describe the look on their faces as disgust. Quinn reaches out and grabs at Santana’s arm just in time to lock her hand around the Latina’s wrist and keep her from leaping out and mauling any stray Cheerios. Not that Quinn would really mind, she’s actually surprised Santana hadn’t started after the girls sooner.

Brittany quietly whimpers at Santana’s side, gripping the Latina’s hand a little tighter, and the two turn to see her on the verge of tears. Her bright blue eyes are brimming with fresh liquid and her bottom lip is trembling so fiercely that Quinn can’t believe her cheeks are still dry. Santana immediately pulls away from Quinn to stand in front of Brittany. She brings her free hand to curve around the left side of Brittany’s cheek, the pad of her thumb brushing away the tears that have finally escaped. They lean their foreheads together and then Santana tips up the blonde’s chin and kisses Brittany so delicately that their lips could have only been connected for a tenth of a second but the contact is enough to bring the light back into Brittany’s eyes.

It takes a second for Quinn to register that she’s staring but she’s never seen Santana like this, so, well loving is the only word she can come up with. A sigh escapes Quinn’s lips as she starts to worry her bottom lip gently with her teeth and turn away. Almost immediately she feels the warmth of a body pressed against her back and a pair of arms wrap around her torso. She turns to see Brittany’s chin resting on her shoulder.

“Thanks, Q.” Brittany says and kisses Quinn softly on the cheek.

Quinn holds in another sigh, tries not to think about how warm Brittany is, how soft her lips are or how she smells like bubblegum. She squeaks out a simple, “no problem, B.”

Brittany lets go of Quinn and returns to Santana’s side with a smile. Quinn turns back around and finds that Santana finally seems to have snapped out of her Brittany-induced reverie and turns away from her girlfriend to look at Quinn. “Yea, thanks Q.” She looks over to the door, her eyes darkening a bit, that familiar scowl creeping back onto her face, “I don’t understand why they have to be such cunts about it.” Santana snaps fiercely and Brittany smacks her hand lightly.

“Sorry, bitches,” Santana corrects herself while half rolling her eyes. Quinn smiles and shakes her head.

“Don’t worry,” Quinn starts, her eyes drifting down to the two girl’s hands, their fingers interlaced, then nods her head, “I’ll work on it.” She grabs her bag and heads out the door, a plan slowly working its way into fruition.


It’s when Quinn actually steps out into the hall that she realizes her plan isn’t really much of a plan at all. She’s determined to help Brittany and Santana though, she really should’ve been working on something, should have been prepared for when they actually decided to go public. But then again, today’s locker room incident wasn’t actually an active decision.

For Quinn it had been a relatively normal action, Brittany kissing Santana after the Latina made her laugh, she’d seen it too many times to count, but to a locker room full of girls it screamed lesbian. And a room full of Ohio-bred cheerleaders equipped with full-blown, homegrown homophobia at that, well the ensuing comments really should have been expected. What she hadn’t expected was how long it took Santana to react, how it had been Quinn to stand in front of the two girls once the first hateful word had been thrown. Though Quinn didn’t really find the word ‘dyke’ to be threatening it had been the tone with which it had been cast. The tone, not even laced but just entirely drenched in disgust, had set her off, lit a fire under her. She’d fended off every word, every comment, and every hiss the Cheerios had to spit at her two best friends.

There really was no way to explain any of it when the cheerleaders were so set on lynching the girls right then and there. Quinn had no choice but to put them in their place, had used everything she had within her to make the snarling girls withdraw and leave them in peace. She’d pulled out that side of herself she thought reminded her of Santana: harsh in every aspect, voice always at a roar, and it had worked.

Quinn rubs at her temples as she walks down the hall, the resultant headache from her shouting is making her a little dizzy so she turns into the nearest bathroom. She clutches at the sink, hands on either side and just lets her head hang for a second. She’s so lost in focusing her breathing that she doesn’t hear the door open, nor the shuffle of loafers make its way to the sink at her right. She only stirs when she feels a hand on her shoulder and practically jumps away from the sink before she looks up and settles into a set of deep brown eyes.

A surprising calmness spreads through her system as Rachel asks, “Are you okay, Quinn?”

Quinn hears gay and she thinks Rachel Berry, okay well actually she thinks Kurt, then RuPaul, and then Rachel Berry, or rather her oft-mentioned gay dads, but that’s not the point. It’s really a surprise she didn’t think of this before.

The sneer of disgust that Quinn once had at even the thought of the singer has died out completely. Yes, Rachel was still after Finn, yes she had had a hand in Quinn and Finn’s break up (her ‘fat day’ with Puck and the following pregnancy scare were mostly to blame though), but there was just something about Rachel that had grown on Quinn. She’d never really been able to pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t like they were the best of friends or anything. They were civil, as Quinn liked to tell herself, for the sake of Glee and definitely not because of the butterflies that beat rampant in Quinn’s stomach when she saw the brunette. Certainly not because of the stupid butterflies.

“I’m,” Quinn starts and then stops, leans down to turn on the faucet and splash a little water on her face. Rachel hands her a paper towel and she dabs at the water, trying to dry off her face without smudging her makeup. “I need your help.” Quinn says flatly as she stands upright. There really wasn’t any other way to ask and she was pretty sure Rachel would be more open to a straight-forward approach.

“With what?” Rachel says, finally lifting her hand from Quinn’s shoulder to turn off the running faucet in front of them. Quinn misses the warmth instantly.

“The girls, the squad, they know about Brittany and Santana now,” Quinn trips over her words a little and she bows her head slightly.

The Glee club knew, it was really hard for them not to notice after a while. Especially Kurt, that boy has an eye for gay that would rival the best of queens. It’s not like the girls are truly outcasts or anything, they are still Cheerios, so fitting in with the Glee club wasn’t that high on their list of priorities, but once their secret was no longer a secret (because Kurt caught them making out back stage during a break in practice and then casually mentioned once they returned that their skirts were both on sideways) they were kind of just welcomed a little more. It’s all open minds and genuine smiles at Glee, and sure the boys caused a little trouble at first but it’s only because they’re boys.

Rachel looks expectant, like Quinn’s supposed to iterate something more to her but when she realizes all she’s going to get is that simple sentence, she frowns. Quinn doesn’t know what to say, she’s so physically tired now that she care barely lift her head to make eye contact with Rachel. When she does, however, she can see that knowing glint in Rachel’s eye and offers her a half-smile. “I fought them off best I could but I don’t want to have to do that every day. It’s … I’m just so exhausted right now.” Quinn admits, sighing tiredly and leaning against the sink.

“What do you want me to do?” Rachel says in her best Rachel Berry voice, all determination and strong will. Quinn smiles a little wider. Rachel had finally started that gay-lesb-all thing or whatever with Kurt and Quinn knew that with her two gay dads Rachel would be an infinite source of all things homophobic when it came to small towns.

“I just want you,” she pauses, taking her lower lip between her teeth, biting just slightly as she tries to figure out what it is she wants Rachel to help her with. Rachel looks at her with a mix of confusion and hopefulness, a small smile creeping onto her full lips. Quinn replays the words in her head and feels the butterflies beating hard and blushes, then continues with a rather flustered, “Oh, I mean, I just want you to help me help them understand that it’s alright.”

Rachel’s smile drops slightly and Quinn feels the butterflies quiet (kind of wishes Rachel would smile again so they’d come back), the glitter in her eye shielded over. “I can do that.” She states flatly, steel determination set back into place.

part two
Current Mood: creative
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