Author: trustisalie and mooosicaldreamz
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Quinn, Santana/Brittany, a whole slew of Transformers
Disclaimer: We really don't own anything... and I doubt we'd be able to foot the lawsuit.
Spoilers: None really, it's AU.
A/N: Blame madndizzee and marshmallowhobo for this. They wanted it... and we got the idea to collaborate on it.
Word Count: 4,142
Summary: A simple car-buying expedition changes four girls' lives forever.
Chapter 1 – More Than Meets the Eye
Quinn Fabray now knew why people told her that car shopping was the most boring way to spend a day. The hot summer sun beats down on her bare shoulders as she makes her way along the rows of older cars (“old-ass clunkers” was the exact terminology Santana had used) that were in her price range.
“Why am I here?” Santana asks, rolling her eyes while examining the backseat of an old Ford. “I’m not the one who needs a car.”
“Because you’re my girlfriend?” The taller blonde questions, a slightly confused look on her face.
“That’s right B, because Santana’s your girlfriend. She also promised to come along to avoid running laps after practice, isn’t that right, S?” Quinn says with an evil smile on her face, knowing the Latina doesn’t have a comeback.
The black haired teen rolls her eyes once again before grabbing her girlfriend’s hand, mumbling as she pulls the taller girl across the car lot toward the newer cars. Quinn chuckles at her best friends before turning her attention back to the rusted cars around her. Her eyes scan the vehicles before her, catching momentarily on an old Camaro, or at least that’s what Quinn thinks it is since knowing car types had never been her forte.
She shakes her head, moving on from the yellow and black striped car, not noticing how it moved forward as if following her.
The blonde stops before a small Beetle (she knows that one, it’s the only one that looks like a damn bug), trying to guess how long the tiny car will hold up before falling to pieces as she drives one day. Quinn doesn’t get very far in her guesstimating when she feels Santana walk up behind her.
“Really, Q? A Beetle? Are you seriously considering this piece of shit?” the Latina questions.
“It’s either this or the Camaro, San. They’re the only two in my price range.” Quinn glares at her best friend; the girl already knew this bit of information.
Santana chuckles after looking at the yellow car a few feet away. “Of course you would only have enough money for another baby making car.” The black haired girl glances between both choices before turning back to her friend. “Go with the Beetle, at least it doesn’t look like an old racing reject.”
“Q! Look at my new car!” Brittany yells before she can reply to Santana.
Quinn looks up and stares at the small blue vehicle Brittany’s pointing to. It’s cute, she decides, and after seeing the small “hybrid” written on the side, finds it to be perfect for her duck-loving best friend. Hell, Quinn reasons that’s probably the sole reason the taller girl picked it, to save the ducks.
“Nice choice, B!” Quinn yells back across the lot, laughing softly as Quinn’s father Russell slowly pulls Brittany’s attention back to the papers she needs to fill out. Having her father with them makes having to actually buy the cars the blondes need far easier, since the man’s bought more cars than Quinn’s had birthdays.
“Well, Teen Mom, let’s go tell Gramps that you’re getting the car with the least possibility of having you score inside it. Unless it’s with a Munchkin from OZ.” Santana laughs loudly as Quinn flips her off and the girls make their way to the others.
“Quinn, Santana,” Russell greets before rounding on his daughter. “Picked a car?”
“Yeah, it was between that yellow Camaro and the Beetle – ” Quinn begins before being cut off.
“She picked the Beetle, at my insistence. Figured you didn’t want another grandchild to give away.” And with a quick glare from Quinn that clearly said ‘Do. Not. Talk,’ Santana shuts up.
Though, as soon as the tan girl closes her mouth, a loud, high pitched screech echoes across the lot, shattering every window in every car except for the bright blue one Brittany picked and the rusted yellow Camaro.
“Okay… change of plans on that choice then,” Santana quips, quickly moving toward Brittany as Quinn reaches to slap her.
Russell looks at each of the girls before turning back to the dealer. “We’ll be taking those two apparently.”
“Damn right you are,” the portly old man grumbles, clearly pissed off and yet mystified at what just happened. “I’ll even give you that damn yellow scrap heap for half price. Just take the damn thing away.”
Brittany claps excitedly, causing both Quinn and Santana to stare at her before shaking their heads. Quinn’s just happy she’s getting out of this deal with almost $900 in her pocket still.
“But,” the dealer starts again and Quinn feels her happiness fall away like she’s just gone over the edge of Niagara Falls. “I’m going to need the other half of the price to pay for the smashed windows.”
The small man turns around to finalize the sales and Quinn mimics strangling him with her bare hands for stealing away the largest amount of shopping money the girl has ever had at once. “Fucker,” she barely whispers before snatching up the bumblebee keychain from the counter and sulks out to her new car when the purchase is finalized.
“Why the hell is there a bumblebee on your keychain?” Quinn hears the snickering clearly behind her.
“Why the hell won’t you shut up?” she throws back.
“Because you just got the baby maker car!” Santana’s full on laughing again as she ends her sentence, leaning on Brittany’s car while the blue-eyed blonde sits inside it.
“Shut the hell up, Lopez before I make you.”
“What are you gonna do, Q? Proposition me to get in that rust bucket? Hell, the thing looks like it’s gonna fall apart as soon as you start it.” Santana just laughs harder when Quinn turns and glares at her for what seems to be the hundredth time in the past hour.
The girls are so busy with their separate activities (Brittany touching every button inside her almost brand new Chevrolet Volt, Santana laughing her ass off, and Quinn still glaring) that they don’t notice the Camaro mysteriously take off and drive down the road a ways before lifting up onto two wheels while passing a newer model. It returns just in time for Santana to shut up at a look from Brittany and Quinn to turn around.
“Whoa. Where’d the rust bucket go?” Santana asks while walking closer to the brand new yellow vehicle.
“I don’t know, but I’m not going to stick around and find out,” Quinn says and she quickly jumps in the vehicle, briefly glancing at the bumblebee air freshener. “I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow, okay?”
The Latina nods, still in somewhat of a trance at the fact that the car in front of her isn’t the piece of shit rust bucket it was just a minute ago. She slowly gets into the passenger seat of the bright blue sedan and looks at her girlfriend. “Like your car, B?”
“I love it, S! I can save the ducks now, it even said so!” the blonde replies, pointing to the LED screen on the dash that repeated the phrase ‘Saves ducks!’ over and over.
“Awesome, babe. Let’s go.” And with that, the blonde puts the car in drive and they leave the lot, never seeing a small flicker of light come from the middle of the steering wheel.
Quinn wakes up early the next morning, completely disregarding the fact that she barely slept. Though, she briefly rationalizes her lack of a full night’s rest to be from the excitement of finally not having to bum rides off of Puck anymore since her old car died.
The Cheerio captain gets around in record time, so anxious to see if her car is still its shiny new self that she thinks she set a new Guinness record. The thought flees from her mind as she jogs down the stairs from her room in her crisp uniform with her backpack slung over one shoulder, and makes a pit stop in the kitchen to eat.
“Morning,” her parents greet simultaneously, so used to this routine again that her mother has bacon (a new addition to the Fabray Morning Breakfast) on a plate with a glass of orange juice beside it.
“Morning!” Quinn replies cheerily before zoning in on the crisp bacon, quickly devouring two pieces at once. The rest of her breakfast is spent in a comfortable silence; her mother cleaning up the dishes while her father reads the morning paper and Quinn chomps down on her delicious pig product.
She drains her juice as soon as the last bacon bit is swallowed and takes her dishes to her mother. “Gotta go! Time to test out the new car some more.” Quinn kisses each of her parents on the cheek and bolts out the door, only slowing when she sees the twin sparkling black stripes and golden yellow base paint in her driveway.
Climbing in, Quinn chucks her bag into the passenger seat and sinks down into her racing seat, enjoying the way it molds to her frame. She’s startled from her semi-relaxed state when the radio immediately turns on as she turns the key in the ignition, blaring Barbra Streisand’s Funny Girl right at her.
“What in the hell?” Quinn exclaims, jumping to turn the volume to a proper level and change the station. “Crazy damn car. Playing music Berry would love. Stupid thing.”
The drive to school is eventful, far too eventful for Quinn’s taste. She’s sure her hand is going to be beet red by the time she parks her car with the amount of times she’s taken to hitting her dashboard (it’s the only way to stop the radio stations from seeking, she’s discovered). She’s sure she heard every genre from rap to country to gospel in the ten-minute drive.
With a stinging in her palm, Quinn finally parks her car in the parking lot and locks it securely before heading toward Santana and Brittany who just pulled up in the next row over. The trio of Cheerios walk into their stomping ground known as William McKinley High, heads held high, hands links for two of them, and anticipate another normal, boring day.
And for the most part, the day is so boring that the girls practically run out of their final class, praying that glee will be the least bit interesting. Quinn manages to break away from her dating best friends prior to the beginning of the club to get out of her uniform (something that’s become less and less fun to wear all day, every day since she had Beth). The blonde waltzes into the choir room with half a minute to spare and is met with a partial glare from one Rachel Berry.
Sneering at the tiny, annoying thorn in her side, Quinn takes her seat and waits for their fearless, pintsized leader to interrupt their club leader as always. Though, as the practice progresses, the lack of excitement begins to bum the re-crowned Head Bitch In Charge out. But that’s quickly remedied when she sees that time’s almost up and realizes that her precious, albeit radio defunct car is waiting for her outside the empty building, and as soon as the clock hits five, the blonde is first out the door, bolting toward the parking lot.
Quinn is pretty sure her car is the coolest one on the entire school campus, including the teacher's parking lot. She has a serious urge to kiss it when she finally gets out of school, just because it's still in the same gorgeous, shiny form as it was last time she saw it.
Once she finally gets in the car and starts driving, she spots Rachel Berry walking out to her own car, probably finished berating Mr. Schue about whatever insane rambling she had prepared for the day.
Over the year it had been since Quinn had given birth to Beth, only two things had not changed: Quinn's love for bacon and her hatred of Rachel Berry. And so she pretty much ignored the girl's presence as she was pulling out, and she ignored it when several people in matching outfits came out from behind cars and surrounded Rachel.
A flash of anger shot down her spine as one of them stepped in front of her car, sneering at her when she honked. The boy raised an egg to his eye level and looked down at her shiny, beautiful car and smirked.
The radio in her car jumped to life just as Quinn gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went white, as the group around Rachel threw their matching eggs at her, landing them with good accuracy.
Mama Said Knock You Out started blaring out of her speakers as her windows rolled down of their own accord. Quinn shrieked as the car surged forward, knocking against the Vocal Adrenaline boy and sending him sprawling forwards onto the pavement. Rachel turned to stare at Quinn's out of control car as the boy scrambled away, swearing at her. The whole group ran off to a waiting group of Range Rovers, and Quinn's own car swerved forward, stopping inches from a still-cowering Rachel Berry, as Quinn's side of the car locked and the passenger side flew open.
Quinn stared at her car for a moment, and the fact that her feet were drawn up and away from the accelerator, break, from everything and how her radio had somehow switched to Don't Worry, Be Happy, and how her car was very much not under her control.
And then she started hitting the dashboard quite angrily, as Rachel Berry leaned down to look into the car.
"YOU STUPID CAR!" Quinn yelled, as Rachel stared and the song went louder. "I can't believe I got a defective, weird, crazy-ass car! STOP PLAYING THAT SONG!"
The song immediately switched to So Sorry, and Quinn stared down at the dashboard under her fist, now completely sure she's gone insane, before Rachel clears her throat and knocks at the passenger seat window.
"Quinn," she starts, smiling as Quinn's head jerks toward her. "Thank you for rescuing me from Vocal Adrenaline. Although I suppose you could've done it with less...theatrics, and violence for that matter, and you could've arrived earlier - "
"Berry," Quinn interrupts, shaking her head to clear her obvious insanity from it. "Why don't you just say thank you and get over it?"
"Right. Thank you, Quinn," Rachel says, and starts to walk away, towards her car. Of course, Quinn's own car lets out an ear-piercing screech that has Quinn recoiling backwards into her seat and Rachel ducking in the middle of the parking lot, as car windows all around the lot break.
Quinn is pretty sure she hates her gorgeous, shiny, beautiful car. She should've known it was bad when it started playing Streisand when she had started it that morning. It should've been a sign. It should've told Quinn, "I will make you hate me with a deep, dark passion."
Rachel turns back to look at Quinn with a dumbfounded look on her face, jaw open as she runs her eyes along Quinn's beautiful, shiny, gorgeous, breathtaking, evil car. Quinn rolls her eyes and calls out, "Berry, let me drive you home."
Quinn frowns down at her dashboard as it starts playing So Happy I Could Die by Lady Gaga, and hits it just as Rachel slides into the car, muttering something about a possessed radio.
"Do not get egg on my interior, Berry, or I will kill you with my bare hands," Quinn says, reaching for the gearshift and smiling in relief as it freely moves under her hand. Rachel's door shuts of its own accord, though, and locks, and Rachel looks over at Quinn with wide eyes. Quinn tries to ignore it and starts driving, thankfully with her in control.
She knows the way to Rachel's vaguely due to a party over the summer, and they drive in silence, except for varied songs popping up on Quinn's possessed radio and Quinn beating at her dashboard every time. Rachel stares at her as if she's gone insane. And she probably has, because Rachel smiles a little at her once they arrive at her house and offers for Quinn to come in and Quinn accepts.
She hits the hood of her car as it starts playing Can You Feel the Love Tonight on her way in, and shakes her hand out as she follows Rachel in, wondering what the hell she's doing and why she's doing it and trying to ignore the answer flitting around in her head.
Rachel turns to smile at her as she sets her iPod down on the counter, walking over to the mirror hung up on the wall and tugging her sweater off, frowning at the egg all over it and dumping it in the sink. The smaller girl looks up to Quinn, who's standing in the middle of the kitchen, jangling her keys nervously as she looks around, looking anywhere but at Rachel in her tight jeans and tight t-shirt.
"You know, Quinn - " Rachel starts, just before Rachel's iPod turns on and starts blaring Don't Rain on My Parade. They both stop and look at it curiously, Quinn with reasonable contempt of all technological inventions who seem to be intent on torturing her and Rachel with obvious curiosity. As the smaller girl steps forward and reaches for the small device, something very, very strange happens.
Both girls watch in stunned silence as the iPod, still playing Streisand, starts to move, and fold and bend all over itself, until its standing on two legs, with two arms, and blinking eyes focusing on the two of them with an intent that Quinn doesn't want to consider.
Because, holy fuck, an iPod just transformed right in front of her into a little robot man and Quinn needs to go lay down because she has obviously lost her goddamn mind.
Then, the little robot man lunges for Rachel, squealing out little whirs and clicks like a language, little spinning disks on each of its arms, both of them looking painful. Rachel catches it, just as Barbra hits a high note and Quinn springs forward, unsure what to do except yell loudly as Rachel holds the thing at arm's length before throwing it into the wall with a loud thwap.
They both stare at the little crumpled robot man, before Rachel turns to look at Quinn with amazement on her face.
"Quinn, did that just happen?"
Quinn stares down at the little robot man and steps closer, nodding silently and poking gingerly at it. This was apparently the wrong decision, because the spinning disks sprung back into motion and the robot's little beady eyes opened and focused on Quinn quickly.
Before Quinn could even think about what to do, she was throwing her arms up in front of her face as it lunged at her, screaming as one of its disks caught her on the forearm and an answering chuckle from the little robot man went through the air. She was struggling to get it off her, trying to keep the spiny disks off her skin when Rachel grabbed the damn thing, still playing its demented Barbra and shoved it into the sink, flipping a switch. They both watched as the little machine tried valiantly to claw its way out of the garbage disposal, only to get itself cut in half as the disposal made a sickening crunching noise.
Rachel flipped the switch and there was silence.
They both stare from the sink to each other and back again, before Rachel is backing away and Quinn is gesturing for them to get out of the house, and Rachel is nodding frantically in agreement. They collapse into the front yard, Quinn sprawling forward as she looks over at Rachel.
"Are you okay?" she finally asks, after five minutes of silence and heavy breathing. Rachel nods, before looking over at Quinn's arm and grabbing it, running her small fingers over the gash the little robot man had left.
"We need to get this cleaned up," she whispers, and Quinn is not paying attention. Because she is looking over at Rachel's driveway, where she had left her beautiful, gorgeous, evil car just ten minutes ago. It wasn't there.
"Rachel," she asks, slowly raising the arm not in Rachel's hands to point at Rachel's empty driveway. "Where the hell is my car?"
Rachel stares at her driveway in silence, and Quinn groans, reaching for her cell phone from her jacket pocket and dialing Santana's number.
"Q," Santana greets, and Quinn can just picture her smirking down at her nails.
"Come get me," Quinn says, restraining herself from yelling, "and Berry. Some bitch stole my car, and we were just like - attacked, or something. I don't even know," Quinn says, looking over at Rachel, who shakes her head in agreement.
"You're with Manhands? God, I told you that car was going to ruin you. At least you can't make babies with her," Santana remarks, and Quinn growls.
"S, seriously. Get Brittany to come get us."
"We're already near the midget's house, okay? Stop flipping your shit."
Santana hangs up and Quinn shuts her phone in frustration, sighing loudly.
"She's coming, right?" Rachel asks quietly, still gripping Quinn's arm in her hands. Quinn nods and looks over at Rachel's house, where the remains of a dead little robot man are stuck in the girl's garbage disposal and over to the empty driveway, cursing her fucking life. Of course she gets over having a kid and has like five months of normalcy before she's suddenly being thrust back into weird world.
Brittany's bright blue car pulls up quickly, almost too quick for it to be normal. Santana scrambles out quickly, backing away from the car, and Brittany gets out more slowly, looking quizzically down at the thing.
And then Quinn nearly faints, because, fuck her life, the car starts splitting apart and bending and folding, eerily reminiscent of the little robot man in the kitchen, until it stands tall, its arms waving around and its eyes looking down at Brittany kindly. It can't be more than twenty feet tall, but it's a robot and holy shit. Just, holy shit.
"My name is Jolt. You are Brittany," he says, his fist unclenching to point down at the tall blonde, who is staring up at the robot in wonder. She nods, reaching upwards to touch the finger.
Next to her, Rachel makes a noise of something, a high squeak that indicates Rachel has probably reached her surprise limit for the day. Quinn has reached her fuck my life limit for the day, especially when the giant robot man points towards the two of them.
"You are Quinn and Rachel," it says (he says?) and then it points towards the back of Rachel's house. "Come this way, all four of you."
Rachel tugs Quinn up from the ground, her fingers digging into Quinn's arm, and starts pulling them after the robot, ignoring Quinn's stunned protests, as Brittany and Santana wander after them.
What greets the four of them in the back yard nearly causes Quinn to faint.
Her car, her beautiful, gorgeous, evil car is standing, like Brittany's big robot man, and it points excitedly at her, clapping happily as it starts playing Hello, I Love You holding out its hand to her as if Quinn would want to touch it. Rachel, though, apparently does, because she reaches out one of her hands to touch his mechanical hand, and the song switches to what sounds like a clip from Friends, with someone yelling out, "Rachel!"
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
Rachel nods, retracting her hand and gripping Quinn's. Quinn doesn't particularly notice, just watches as other big robot men come out of the trees, stepping up and towering over the four girls, until Jolt and her car are accompanied by another one around their size, and three other big robot men, all of them standing far taller over them. Her car is still a golden yellow, and Jolt is his usual shiny bright blue. The other smaller car is almost all silver, sunlight glinting off him. The next biggest robot man was yellow and red, with the word 'fire' running down the inside of his leg, and the next biggest was black and silver, covered in multiple large weapons.
But the biggest one of all was blue and red, with red flames curling across a windowed chest plate, and all six of the big robot men looked down at Quinn, Rachel, Brittany and Santana in silence.
Holy shit, Quinn thought, just as Santana hit the ground with a muttered echo of Quinn's thoughts.