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[personal profile] griefofdawn
Chapter Title: Envelope
Disclaimer: Fox owns the Glee money making machine and RBI came up with the original show idea. Still not mine. Stars Hollow and its denizens belong to others.
Characters: Rachel/Quinn.
When/Where:Seriously AU. Pretend Glee Season 4 didn't happen that way, and lots of Season 3 was different. Quinn opens an envelope.
Note: [19-Oct-2013] It's been a while. A year? Yikes! No excuses other than a traumatized muse after last year's NaNoWriMo. This year's NaNoWriMo starts in a couple weeks. I'll try to get back to posting on a regular schedule after that is over, but no promises. And at least 1 more before it starts.
Word Count: 1,510 (8 of ?)




Quinn looked up from her book at the sound of a large object hitting the coffee table with a loud thump. It was the envelope she'd been avoiding thinking about for weeks now. That Rachel had hidden away, so she wouldn't throw it out. Her girlfriend stood there, frowning, arms crossed, in the open space between the TV and the table. At least she hadn't gotten to the foot tapping stage, Quinn thought.

"You need to open this," Rachel said, tapping the envelope.

"Why?" Quinn asked, closing her book.

"I spoke with Amanda today," Rachel said. "She was approached by a well known magazine for an interview. With me."

"And?" Quinn said. "What does your agent want?"

"I… they had a request," Rachel said, nervously biting her lip. "They want to use pictures of you with the interview. Among other things. She wants you to think about it."

"Okay…" Quinn said, puzzled. She could be in magazine pictures to help Rachel out.

"You need to open that," Rachel said again, waving at the envelope.

Quinn grunted. She'd known who it was from as soon as she'd seen the bunny on the label. Rachel pushed it closer. "What magazine?" she asked, pushing it back.

"Amanda says it would be good for my career," Rachel said, not answering her. "Opportunities like this don't happen every day. And she's already talked with the producers to get their buy-in. They want to have a meeting with the investors, Amanda, myself, and you before they approve it."

"Why me?" Quinn asked, leaning back and covering her eyes with her arm.

"Open the envelope," Rachel said once more.

"I already know what's in it," Quinn said. "I don't need to open it."

"What do you think it is?" Rachel asked.

"Now that we're an us," she vaguely waved her free hand, "they want to take advantage of our 'this' to sell magazines and other things," she said.

"Who owns the pictures you did for them?" Rachel asked.

"I own them," Quinn said. "Mostly. I kept the rights to most of them and licensed their use. If they use them anywhere except their Cyber Girl site they have to pay me. Or anyone else who wants to legally use them. And next year most of the remaining web publishing rights revert back to me."

"Is that what normally happens?" Rachel asked, curious.

"No," Quinn said, grinning to herself. "Almost never. Usually the magazine or photographer own them. Frannie has a sister-in-law who's a clever lawyer. She helped write my contracts with the photographers and Playboy."

"I thought she didn't approve of the whole modeling thing," Rachel said.

"No, but she made sure I was protected," Quinn said. "Of course, I had to agree to be godmother to her daughters in exchange."

"That's sweet," Rachel said, smiling. "How many does she have now?"

"One, so far," Quinn said, sighing. "And sweet isn't exactly how I would put it. Being a Fabray godmother can be expensive."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Birthday presents, Christmas presents, vacation trips, savings bonds. And that's just the tip of the godmother iceberg. Which I would rather not think about right now."

"Okay," Rachel said, though from her expression Quinn knew Rachel wouldn't drop it completely. "And now the envelope. No more distractions," Rachel said.

"They're just going to want to renew their license," Quinn said. "Which they can request. But I don't have to agree to. And won't unless they offer a lot of money. Which they probably won't. The pictures aren't bad but they aren't Playmate of the Month, or even Year, material."

"I think they're great," Rachel said.

"You're biased," Quinn said, with a wink in Rachel's direction. "It's a business. A few of my photos might make them money on their website. Their magazine audience is after a different look. My photos, no matter how airbrushed, aren't that look. Which helped me retain control of them."

"So, the pictures will just disappear and everyone will forget?" Rachel asked. "Clever."

"Well, the official ones," Quinn said. "You can't stop the pirates. Or anyone else who's copied them. Put something on the internet and it never leaves. But no one else gets to make money from me. Except me."

"Ah," Rachel murmured. "Open," she said firmly, holding up the envelope.

Opening her eyes, Quinn grabbed the envelope Rachel was dangling in front of her eyes. And the letter opener that appeared in her other hand. "Impatient, much?"

"I've been exceedingly patient," Rachel said, sitting down next to her. "What's it say?" she asked, watching Quinn go through a small stack of paper.

"This one is the web publication license renewal request, as expected," Quinn said. "Looks just like the last one." Ripping it in half, she tossed it over her shoulder.

"Quinn!"

"If they really want the photos they'll send another one with a better offer," Quinn said. "Huh, this one is a request to use several photos as part of an interview with a certain someone who may be appearing on Broadway. Need to have the lawyer-in-law look at that one," she said, putting it down, with another wink for Rachel.

"Do they say which pictures?" Rachel asked eagerly.

Quinn handed her a proof sheet. "Some or all of these," she said. "And one or two new ones of us together."

"That's a lot," Rachel said. "Will they let you pick them? They need to be tasteful or the producers won't approve."

"They'll claim editorial control, so no. They'll want something attention-getting to bookend your interview, I suspect," Quinn said, shaking her head. "And they won't want to pay because they can claim it's supporting yours."

"Sneaky," Rachel said.

"Typical," Quinn said. "No decisions on that one until the lawyer-in-law looks at it. And then we can have that meeting with your investors."

"Okay. I'll let Amanda know tomorrow that you're checking into the magazine offer. She'll understand."

"Really? She's your agent, not mine," Quinn said.

"You're the one with the most to lose here," Rachel said. "For the play, and me, it's just extra, unexpected publicity. And she want to be your agent also."

"I don't need an agent, remember?" Quinn said. "I have a job already."

"You say that now," Rachel said. "But we can talk about that later."
Quinn nodded. "This one looks interesting." She held up another document. "They're sponsoring a round of 'Women of American Ninja Warrior', with Coach Sylvester as the 'host'."

"And your part?" Rachel said, clearly puzzled.

"You have no idea what that is, do you," Quinn said, laughing.

"Um, no. Some kind of sports exhibition?" Rachel said. "With ninjas?"

"Think game show obstacle course," Quinn said. Picking up the remote, she turned on the TV and started flipping through the On-Demand channels. "Here you go," she said, selecting a channel.


"That was different," Rachel said an hour later, after they'd watched several episodes of American Ninja Warrior. "So, you'd be one of the contestants?"

"Yup. Quote - The plucky cheerleader slash model with her Broadway actress girlfriend - End Quote," Quinn said, reading from several sheets stapled together.

"How realistic is it? Some of those stunts looked very dangerous," Rachel said.

"Not sure, exactly," Quinn said. "We'll have to consult an expert."

"Puck?" Rachel said.

"Puck," Quinn agreed, with a laugh. "Not sure I'm in shape for that but it could be fun. That'll go off to the lawyer-in-law also," she added.

"Is there anything else in the envelope?" Rachel asked.

"Another copy of the web publication contract," Quinn said, holding it up. A large yellow Post-It dead center.

"They know you," Rachel said, laughing. "What's the Post-It say?"

"'For Ninja Warrior promotional purposes' and a phone number."

"Lawyer pile?" Rachel said.

"Lawyer pile," Quinn echoed. "Darn it!"

"So, Lucy Cue is going to make a comeback?" Rachel asked, pulling Quinn over to her side of the couch.

"I don't know," Quinn said, wrapping an arm around her. "Ninja Warrior could be fun."

"And Santana will be jealous," Rachel said.

"Definitely," Quinn said, nodding. "Spending a couple days with Coach Sylvester wouldn't be too bad either."

"No nudity," Rachel said. "That's a plus."

"Except what I've already done," Quinn countered.

"Sleep on it?" Rachel suggested.

"Yes. I'll send things off to the lawyer in the morning," Quinn said. "Can we cuddle tonight?"

"Of course," Rachel said. "Need to stock up if I'm going to be sharing your charms."

"Shelby won't be happy," Quinn said, rolling off the couch. Standing up, she pulled Rachel up into her arms. "The gossips in Stars Hollow will go crazy over this one. It'll be a bigger scandal than me living with an actress."

"What's wrong with living with an actress," Rachel said, pouting. "We're wonderful people."

"It's a quaint old town," Quinn said. "You're just one step up from 'circus folk' and gypsies."

"Would it help if I found a part playing a gypsy fortune teller in a circus?" she asked, giggling. "You'd have a triple play then."


End Notes:

1.Reminder - everything (Everything!) about Playboy in this fic is fictional. Especially the bits about Quinn owning/controlling her photos. I'm maing it up for stroy purposes.
2. There is no Sue Sylvester hosted version of any of the Ninja Warrior shows. That is fictional.






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