Pairing/Character: Quinn, Puck, Beth, Shelby
When/Where: AU. Between 96 and 98.
Quick Note: Just an extra bit.
Word Count: 200 (Double Drabble ) (Outtake: 1 of 2 )
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"Why won't my sister visit?" Beth asked, looking at Quinn across her stack of blueberry pancakes.
After subtly checking to make sure Shelby wasn't listening, Quinn sighed. "You know how your mom is still angry at Mrs. Kim?"
"Yup," Beth said. "She wouldn't sell Mom that desk she really wanted, because she teaches singing."
"So your mom refused to talk to her," Quinn said. "For months. Until Miss Patty made them play nice."
"Silly grownups," Beth said, giggling.
Quinn nodded. "Your sister is the same way," she said. "She got angry at something your mom did years and years ago but there's no Miss Patty to get them to hug and make up."
"Maybe we can send Miss Patty to New York?" Beth asked.
"We could ask, but I think it would be better for your sister to come here," Quinn said, cringing internally at the thought of Rachel being confronted by Miss Patty, in all her glory.
"Can we call her?" Beth asked.
"We can try tonight," Quinn said. "Before you go to bed."
"Okay," Beth said, nodding, a serious expression on her face. Watching her carefully jab a piece of pancake, Quinn really hoped Rachel would finally cooperate.
From her perch on the bandstand steps, Rory watched the younger woman walking across the town square with her niece. Her journalist's nose told her there was something there, some hidden story. Years ago she would have jumped at the idea but time had tempered her impulsive desire to know everything.
There was definitely a family resemblance between the two, she decided. Certainly closer than between Beth and her mother.
Town gossip had it that the enigmatic Quinn Fabray lived with a Broadway actress, something that had kept the local scandalmongers talking for weeks.
"What are you scheming about now?" a voice whispered in her ear, an arm wrapping around her waist.
"Hey, Paris," Rory said, hugging her old classmate. She pointed at Beth and Quinn playing in the snow across the square, laughter drifting to them on the breeze.
"She does have a certain presence," Paris said softly, "to go with those Midwestern Princess looks."
"Midwest? I thought she went to Yale?"
"Top of her class," Paris said.
"How do you know?" Rory asked.
"I have my sources," Paris said haughtily, before laughing and jumping up. "Gilmore! Stop it!"
"You can't resist the tickle," Rory said, wriggling her fingers.
Stars Hollow was a small town in the truest sense. Growing up in Lima, there'd been a distance between people, that Quinn didn't see here. In Lima people knew your business because they went to the same churches, the same schools. In Stars Hollow, people knew your business because they were friends or family. They actually cared about their neighbors. The kinds of things that happened at McKinley, the bullying, wouldn't have been tolerated.
Not that things were perfect. There seemed to be more eccentric people in the Hollow than the entire state of Ohio. But Quinn could see Beth growing up happy here, she thought, looking out of the diner window.
"Hi!" a cheerful voice said. Turning her head, Quinn acknowledged the woman, a few years older than herself, who'd joined her, placing a large cup of coffee on the table.
"You're little Beth Corcoran's aunt," the woman said.
"Rory Gilmore," the woman said, holding out a hand. "My mom lives next door, when she's not hanging out here, with Luke, or working."
"You're the person from Chilton who recommended Stars Hollow to Shelby," Quinn said, recognizing the name.
"Yes. I'm on the Board of Trustees," Rory said.