Bees and their Honey
Title: Bees and their Honey
Author: Kiki
Fandom: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): April/Rachel
Rating: T
Word count: 1700
Spoilers: None
Summary: A late night run in with her would-be usurper does not end in blood shed.
Disclaimer. None of this is mine.
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It's almost criminal how easy it is to break into McKinley at night.
And no, Rachel Berry does not see the irony in that sentence.
Not that she's actually breaking into the school. If nothing is broken, then calling it breaking and entering would be rather misleading. Still, she steals through the halls, keeping close to the shadows, her ballet flats strangely perfect for nefarious activities.
She only lets out a relieved breath when she opens the door to the auditorium. Almost instantly she sucks it back in.
April Rhodes sits on the edge of the stage, legs swinging over the side, bourbon bottle half empty at her side.
Rachel thinks about easing out of the room, but why should she? This is her school after all, and some wrong-side-of-thirty usurper has no business being here.
She marches up to the front of the auditorium and takes her rightful place in the middle of the stage. "What are you doing here?" she demands, hands balled loosely at her side.
April's face never changes from its drowsy amusement. "What are you doing here, bumble bee?" Her glazed blue eyes narrow in an attempt to focus. "And why do you look like you just stepped out of a spy movie?"
Rachel crosses her arms. "I have glee business. And my attire is none of your concern!" Her all black turtle neck, jeans and beret were classic stealth and perfectly suitable for night time activities of the clandestine inclination. It was always important to dress the part.
She continues frowning for a second, but April just smiles crookedly and takes a swig straight from her bourbon.
Not getting the explanation she deserves, she huffs and heads to the corner of the stage. She drags a chair over and takes a quick look over her shoulder to make sure April's not looking before climbing on top of it. She pulls the draping that conceals Jacob's camera away and jumps, fingers stretched toward the camera. She lands empty handed. This time her knees bend slightly as she prepares for maximum height. Her second attempt is little better. Failing by mere inches, she glares up at the defiant device. She really should have thought this through before getting Jacob to set it up.
She knew there were members of the team that thought they could slack on choreography whenever her back was turned, but their misdeeds would not go unpunished. Well, not if she could get her hands on that camera.
"Want some help, baby bee?"
"No," Rachel snaps before thinking about it. "Well, alright," she concedes after a second.
She studies April critically. "How can you help?" she asks disbelievingly. Even in her stripper heels, she doubts April has an inch on her.
The blonde jumps lithely to her feet and strolls over to Rachel. She studies the girl on top of the chair and the offending camera then holds out a hand expectantly. Rachel gives her a hand up without thinking, and suddenly she's struggling to find an appropriate amount of personal space on the tiny plastic chair.
April moves behind her, and her small hands wrap around Rachel's waist.
"Come on, I'll give you a boost."
"What? You most certainly will not!"
April laughs, a sound rough and scratchy with disuse. She starts to lift, but the younger girl makes a terrified squeal and wriggles dangerously. "Don't you dare!" Rachel shrieks.
"Relax, baby bee. I'm stronger than I look."
The blonde flexes and Rachel notices the sinewy muscles in her thin arms. "Fine, but if you drop me, I'll sue."
In a quick burst, April lifts her half a foot and Rachel grabs at the camera desperately. She won't risk another humiliating second in April Rhodes arms.
Back on the ground, Rachel smooths invisible wrinkles from her jeans as April bounces off the chair.
"Thank you for your assistance." Rachel doesn't really like that her thanks comes out stiff and bordering on churlish-her fathers taught her better than that, so when April winks and strolls back to the edge of the stage, she feels compelled to follow.
She stands awkwardly behind the blonde before slowly taking a seat.
They sit in silence until April takes another exaggerated swallow of the dark liquor.
"Why are you drinking?"
April gives her a sidelong glance through heavy false lashes. "It's Friday night and you're in high school: why aren't you?"
"I wish you'd stop doing that," Rachel sighs.
"What?"
"Answering questions with questions."
"Then maybe you should stop asking so many questions." She smiles sweetly at Rachel's frustrated pout. "Here." She slides the bottle closer to Rachel. "Try it and see if you still don't know why I'm drinking."
Rachel eyes the bottle suspiciously. She doesn't approve of underage drinking, but no one's ever actually offered her alcohol before, except for her parents on special occasions. She might be dead before her peers make the same offer and she really wants to know what all the fuss is about.
She pours a nip into the cap and swallows it, gasping as it goes down. It tastes like poison and burns like fire. She swallows a few times to get the awful taste out of her mouth, and then tells April earnestly, "I really don't know why you're drinking."
April laughs and the carefree sound carries throughout the auditorium. She leans over to nudge Rachel's shoulder with her own. "At least you're a clever bumble bee."
"Why do you keep calling me that?" She asks in annoyance. It's not the worst thing she's been called, but neither was RuPaul-until she found out who that was.
The small woman shrugs. "You're like a bee: all cute and vicious, and just a tiny bit ridiculous."
"Oh." She knows she should be offended, but her mind has trouble focusing on anything when even the smallest hint of a compliment is present.
"Why are you here?" Unlike the first time she asks, this time it's merely soft and curious.
April's hands chafe at her own arms, her eyes shutting as something wistful crosses her face. "This room echoes. Can't you hear? Most of my favourite memories were made right here. You're in glee, you must know."
Rachel snorts. "All my worst were made here. See that bathroom? Last year Puck barricaded me in, and I was trapped for three hours until the janitor finally let me out. And when I led the school assembly in the national anthem, I was so happy! Then, as I walked off stage, one of the hockey players tripped me and the whole school didn't stop laughing til Coach Sylvester threatened to waterboard them in their own tears." She looks around the cavernous room, face torn. "I can't wait to get out of this place."
April looks at her with a pityingly knowing expression. Rachel pretends she can't see it.
Even if April wasn't a gloriously talented potential replacement, Rachel still wouldn't like her. The woman is a walking parable. A burnt out star that was never appreciated the way she thought she deserved.
Rachel refuses to learn whatever lesson is in April's jaded gaze.
The moment passes. "Make better memories," April orders. "This is where you sing and dance and shine. That shouldn't be tainted by a couple of juiced up jocks."
"I did try." The humiliating memory of Finn fleeing from her kiss like she really was RuPaul doesn't exactly help matters.
April latches onto her hand. "Then I'll have to help," she whispers gleefully.
She drags Rachel to the centre of the stage and sings the opening line loud and beautiful, no hint of dulling her voice just because of their not quite legal venue.
For the first two verses, Rachel can only listen in awe. Every note is perfection. April's voice wraps around the lyrics in ways Rachel couldn't even imagine.
Usually that level of talent, even as she appreciates the music, would make her nervous somewhere deep inside. But April's singing to her, for her and there's just no room for jealousy.
April squeezes her hand and Rachel starts singing without hesitation.
Cause I'm gonna make you see
There's nobody else here
No one like me
Their voices don't harmonize perfectly. Even as their voices sync seamlessly, they'd rather be heard then simply blend.
I'm special, so special
I gotta have some of your attention, give it to me
The song finishes and Rachel finally realises why Mr. Schuester looks so stupid every time April opens her mouth.
"Thank you," Rachel says shyly.
"For what?" April asks.
"I think you just made my Friday night."
April pats her cheek. Rachel notices that her fingers are rougher than Finn's.
It's not an unpleasant sensation.
April's eyes are almost completely level with her own. It anchors her. It makes her feel braver than she usually would.
She moves closer tentatively, waiting for any hint at April's thoughts. Then, before she can talk herself out of it, her lips touch April's in the softest, most careful kiss she's ever given.
She pulls away before April can, even though the blonde had no such intention.
She tucks her hair behind her ear, licking her lips unconsciously.
Bourbon tastes a lot better when it comes from someone else's lips.
April gives her a small smile, not particularly concerned, Inappropriate touches were her favourite hobby. "What was that for, baby bee?"
Rachel wishes desperately for the heat in her cheeks to subside. She really doesn't want to feel any more young or stupid than she already does. "I really like your voice," Rachel tells her honestly.
April studies her quietly. A small smirk slowly forms on her face. "You know, you're a lot more fun than people make out."
"Oh, I know."
April, still holding her hand, leads her back to the edge of the stage.
They sit in a comfortable silence. April offers her the bottle and Rachel just shakes her head.
The blonde raises her brows thoughtfully. She's not entirely certain why she's drinking either anymore.
Not when she can think of so many other inappropriate things she'd rather be doing.
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